The recent publicity frenzy that our family and 3-week-old daughter has received has been somewhat overwhelming. While I am used to my Jewish mother and certain entitled friends having opinions and judgment about my choices, I was ill-prepared for the barrage of public sentiment regarding the decision Bevan Dufty and I made to create family together. In the way our story was portrayed by KGO's Pete Wilson, much of the humanity was lost. Our story is one about relationships, love, loss, and ultimately hope for finding new ways to create family within a queer paradigm.
It all started over lunch at dim sum, approximately three years ago. After the unanticipated ending of our long-term relationships, Bevan and I found ourselves single. Over lunch, we talked about our breakups, our hopes and fears, and our desire to have a child and create family. I lamented the shortage of available butches in San Francisco, while he listened patiently and left me the last of the dim sum. We had been friends for many years, and like many queers in San Francisco, friends become our family.
I was entering my late 30s, and the prospect of having a child had been at the forefront of my mind for quite some time, but I was starting to despair. I knew I didn't want to be a single mom, and I was beginning to seriously doubt I'd ever meet my besheret (life partner or soul mate) É and certainly not before my fertility options had run out. At that point in my life, I was unsure I'd ever find romantic love again, but I knew in my heart that I wanted to parent, that I had so much to offer a child, and that this was the correct next step in my life. I just wasn't quite sure how it could happen.
A tremendous amount of planning, foresight, and love came out of that luncheon. Slowly, Bevan and I moved into each other's worlds, even more than we had done previously. His group of friends got to meet mine and vice versa. I became exposed to the world of SF politics and City Hall. He learned more about women's health nurse practitioners than he cares to admit. We shared our intention with our community of friends, and soon started the process toward conceiving.
I keep telling Bevan he should just reply, "I did not have sex with that woman!" when asked if we conceived our child in the "traditional" way, but the real response is "We're gay!" So conceiving meant many anxiety-provoking months of blood tests, ultrasounds, and inseminations. We were helped by many friends along the way, especially John Fassett, my fabulous gay midwife. After six months of unsuccessful attempts, we added intrauterine inseminations and finally a few cycles of injectable fertility meds. Upon facing my 39th birthday and over a year of failed inseminations, we decided to pursue in-vitro fertilization.
During the course of this arduous process, Bevan and I went through many changes. We knew it would be our last attempt. We vacationed together. We shared holidays. I had my girlfriend of a year move in with me, though the relationship sadly ended shortly thereafter. Bevan also had special men in his life. With any new partner, we shared what we were doing and hoped to create one big, gay family.
Finally, after one cycle of IVF, we conceived in January of this year. And like many IVF pregnancies, we conceived multiples, or twins. Within a very brief period of time, however, we were told that one of the twins had anomalies incompatible with life, and the heartbeat would probably stop by 12-14 weeks. The other twin was healthy. We were heartsick, and I was physically sick from the high level of pregnancy hormones. I was also heartbroken over my breakup. Too much was happening at once.
As predicted, the first twin's heart stopped beating at 14 weeks. This was a very difficult period of time for both Bevan and me.
The second twin, our daughter Sidney Maely Goldfader-Dufty, passed all of her testing with flying colors and was born on October 2. Sidney was named for my father, and Bevan's mother. Sidney was born on the sacred Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. She came into the world surrounded by our community of friends and family. The love in the birth room was palpable. Sidney is a true SF baby. She has been blessed and welcomed by rabbis, drag queens, the mayor and the Board of Supervisors, and the community at large.
Thus, I was shocked by Pete Wilson's inflammatory and hurtful comments. To liken Sidney to a football mascot or serial killer is mean and bizarre, never mind his assumptions regarding Bevan and me. I realize that Bevan is a public figure and by virtue of my affiliation with him, I am subject to public scrutiny, however, the attack felt personal and truly ill-informed. Co-parenting is not a new phenomenon in the queer community, and the criticism that because we are not romantic partners we are more likely to "break-up" is illogical. Unlike many families that divorce once the romance dies, we came together for the purpose of co-parenting this child, and tremendous thoughtfulness went into the commitments and legal agreements of that intention.
Pete Wilson has yet to apologize to me. I had to deal with the very real consequences of his remarks and solicitation of public comment with my extended family, employer, and patients. Bevan gave him my phone number after I requested a personal apology. There has been no reply. While I recognize the political significance inherent to this subject, and appreciate the politicians and queer activists who stood up for us, there is still someone's life behind this frenzy. And all of this will become part of Sidney's scrapbook. So when our daughter grows up and asks me how we responded to this crazy period of time, I will tell her that her dad allowed me eight hours of uninterrupted sleep this week and more love and support than I could ask for, and I am always learning from his example.