The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided to Go Get Pregnant by Dan Savage

about it.”
    To make the telling of lies possible, the birth mother naturally had to disappear. Terry and I couldn't hide heterosexuality from our child if this woman was coming around asking to see her baby. Some women who placed their children for adoption through the agency did want to disappear, and were only doing an open adoption because they wanted a hand in selecting the family that adopted their baby.
    “They care about their kids, and want them to be happy and well taken care of, which is why letting them play a real role in shaping their kid's future is just so right. Most of the women who come to this agency tell the counselors that if they couldn't do it this way—pick the family, have ongoing contact—they wouldn't place their kids for adoption. Some would raise them themselves, but most indicate they would have an abortion before doing a closed adoption.”
    When abortion was declared a woman's constitutional right in 1973, the number of children available for adoption plummeted. Abortion is a tough choice for some women, but so is carrying a baby to term, giving birth, and then being told to pretend your baby died or didn't happen. Perhaps there are women who can walk away from a baby, and not wonder all their lives where that baby is or how it's doing. At least if she has an abortion, a woman doesn't have to wonder. She knows. Why pretend your baby “didn't happen” when you have the option of actually making your baby “not happen”?
    * * *
    We took a break, then listened to a presentation about the mountains of paperwork we'd all have to do in order to adopt. We learned about the home study and the other hurdles we'd have to jump before we could join a pool of couples for birth moms to select from. Then two birth moms were shown in and took seats at the conference table. We'd been talking about birth moms all afternoon, so actually laying eyes on two of them was like having Madonna and Cher join us.
    The paranoia that plagued me earlier in the day had subsided, and I was feeling pretty at ease. We'd had a chance to ask a few questions, make eye contact with the other couples in the room, and be taken seriously. I wasn't feeling like one of “the gay guys,” but more like one of nine wannabe dads. Until the birth moms opened their mouths.
    “It was so important to me to find a family that would bring my child up a good Christian,” said one. “Yes, that was important for me, too,” said the other.
    They said other stuff, too, stuff about finding adoptive couples they felt comfortable talking with, the amount of contact they wanted, how important it was to them to play a role in shaping their child's future, how wonderful it was to have a relationship with their child, how neither had ever doubted their decision, and how both regarded their biological children's adoptive parents as the “real” parents. None of that mattered, of course, because all I heard was that “Christian homes” were important, and important to both birth moms. Terry and I were wasting our time.
    During the next break, Terry and I rented skates, tossed our shoes in a locker, and went around and around Lloyd Center's ice rink. We were quiet for a few minutes.
    “Maybe we should go home,” Terry said. “We know lots of single lesbians. Let's see if one wants to be a surrogate mom. No birth mother will ever pick us.”
    “Paying someone to be our surrogate mom will probably cost less than doing an adoption,” I responded. “Did you see the fee schedule?”
    “I think we're kidding ourselves being here,” said Terry.
    Before I could answer, Carol and Jack waved us over to the side of the rink.
    “You two are so lucky,” Carol told us. Terry and I looked ateach other, and then asked her what she meant. “You're so different! Everyone in the pool is exactly the same. Everyone's white, suburban, middle-class, and straight. You guys will stick out, birth moms are going to notice you in the pool.”
    “Yeah,” said