I literally photograph everything.
Every day my poor kids are subjected to the old ‘Smile!’ as I yet again shove my IPhone into their faces. I used to think I must have lost someone very dear to me in a past life, as I feel this burning need to capture and cherish every moment. I can’t do grudges, I can’t stay angry, I can’t let someone drive away after an argument. And I can’t let my children’s lives pass without capturing as much as I possibly can.
I am a same sex mother of five children, and no, I have never been in a straight relationship. I am one of the lucky few who has had access to a range of assisted reproduction techniques, all thanks to one man who decided many years ago to donate his sperm. Little did he know that one day there would be 48 children out there from his donations, five of which I’m lucky enough to call mine.
Credit must also go, of course, to the clinic, doctor and admin staff at Qld Fertility Group who facilitated the whole process. Without them, I fear my polycystic ovaries would have left me a highly attentive auntie rather than a mother.
I have a fourteen year old boy, Master Z, a twelve year old girl, Miss D, a seven year old boy, Master M, a four year old boy, Master C and a one year old girl, Miss L.
I carried four children, three of those biologically mine, one biologically my ex partner’s and am mum to a daughter that I did not carry, who is not biologically mine. I’ll just let that sink in for a minute. It’s a lot to swallow.
I’ve basically seen and done it all as far as the fertility journey goes. And I can tell you categorically that the hows and whos make no difference whatsoever to the end result. I have 5 children who are my life. I love each and every one of them unconditionally and uniquely for the amazing and beautiful people that they are. They are all so incredibly different, it keeps life interesting that’s for sure.
I turn 40 in January, and having been legally married not yet two weeks ago, I find myself reflecting on my life journey thus far, and how very much has changed for me as a gay female since first ‘coming out’ at age 19.
My ‘coming out’ involved me accidentally kissing the girl of my dreams in front of my entire family at my cousin’s 21st. But that is a story for another day… For all the hurdles, the ups and downs and hair raising experiences over the years, I couldn’t be happier. My five children, my loving wife and my many, many happy photographs.
21 years ago, I never, ever would have seen myself here.