“I’m obviously fine with it,” Vanessa says.
“Yet you’ve never expressed a desire to have a child before now . . .”
“Because I wasn’t with a partner I’d want to have kids with.”
“Are you doing this for Zoe, then, or for yourself?”
“How can you ask me to separate those?” Vanessa says, exasperated. “Of course I’m doing it for Zoe. But I’m also doing it for me.”
Felicity writes something down on her pad. It makes me nervous. “What makes you think you’d be a good parent?”
“I’m patient,” I reply. “I have a lot of experience helping people with problems express themselves in a different way. I know how to listen.”
“And she loves harder than anyone I’ve ever known,” Vanessa adds. “She’d do anything for her child. And I—well, I’m a school counselor. I have to believe that will come in handy eventually with my own kid.”
“She’s also smart, confident, and empathetic,” I say. “An amazing role model.”
“So Ms. Shaw—you work with teenagers. Did you ever babysit when you were younger? Have any younger siblings you helped raise?”
“No,” Vanessa says, “but I’m pretty sure I can Google how to change a diaper if I get stumped.”
“She’s also funny,” I interject. “Great sense of humor!”
“You know, I’ve come across a few teen mothers during my career,” Vanessa points out. “They’re close enough to childhood to remember it intimately, but I wouldn’t say that makes them better equipped for parenting . . .”
Felicity looks up at her. “Are you always this sensitive?”
“Only when I’m talking to someone who’s a—”
“What else?” I say brightly. “You must have some other questions for us.”
“How are you going to explain to your child why she has two moms, and no dad?” Felicity asks.
I was expecting this question. “I’d start by telling her that there are lots of different kinds of families, and that one isn’t any better than another.”
“Children, as you know, can be cruel. What if a classmate makes fun of her for having two mothers?”
Vanessa crosses her legs. “I’d go and beat up the kid who teased her.”
I stare at her. “You didnotjust say that.”
“Oh, fine. We’d deal with it. We’d talk our kid through it,” Vanessa says. “AndthenI’d go beat up the bully.”
I grit my teeth. “What shemeansis that we would speak to the bully’s parents and try to explain a way to get their child to be a little more tolerant—”
The phone rings, and the social worker answers it. “I’m sorry,” she says to us. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
As soon as Felicity Grimes steps out of her office, I turn to Vanessa.“Really?Did you really just say that to a social worker who is going to decide whether or not we get to use these embryos?”
“She’s not deciding. Judge O’Neill is. And besides—these questions are ludicrous! There are plenty of deadbeat dads in the world who are reason enough to glorify lesbian parents.”
“But the social worker has to give us the green light before the clinic will start any procedure,” I point out. “You don’t know how to play this game, Vanessa, but I do. You say anything and do anything you have to in order to get her to sign off on us.”
“I’m not going to let someone judge me just because I’m gay. Isn’t it bad enough that our relationship is being dragged through the court system? Do I really have to sit here and smile while Pam Ewing here tells me I can’t be both a lesbian and a good parent?”
“She never said that,” I argue. “That’s just what youheard.”
I imagine Felicity Grimes listening in on the other side of the door, and putting a big red X through our file.Couple can’t even see eye to eye during an hour-long interview. Unfit to parent.
