I never blogged about it when I was TTC (trying to conceive) — I was still trying to find my voice as a blogger, and I didn’t realize that I absolutely positively had to find other pregnant lesbians or lesbians with babies on the Internet until I was a pregnant lesbian on the Internet.

(Uh-oh, I shudder to think what this post is going to do to my placement in search results. Move along, there’s nothing to see here, my fetishy accidental readers. Repeat, no pictures, nothing to see. Move along.)

Anyway, that was before. But we are getting ready to launch round two of this babymaking business, and the idea of not blogging about it is — pun unavoidable — inconceivable.

Next up in project Booski Family, is getting Jill pregnant. Yes, this time the plan is that I’ll be the “baba mama” instead of the bio mama — and blogging about it from the supportive spouse perspective instead of the “are these implantation cramps or menstrual cramps” perspective.

Since I got pregnant, we’ve heard a shocking number of homophobic reviews about the fertility practice where I got pregnant. When our adoption lawyer heard where I got pregnant, her jaw dropped.

We suspect that my girly-girl appearance and the fact that Jill was still living in DC at the time may be part of why I didn’t have any issues with them, although you know me — I was fully out to everyone including the assistant who has to explain the insurance coverage.

Indeed, the one uncomfortable moment was when I tried to get her to skip the 2 pages devoted to male infertility treatment covered by my insurance. “We don’t need to go over this — I won’t be needing it.” “But it’s covered.” “Yes, but I won’t be using it.” “But it’s covered.”

I can’t complain, though. I was treated with warmth and welcomed, and if I were the one TTC again, I would probably go back. In fact, as I tell anyone who will listen in real life, my care there made me retroactively dissatisfied with my doctors in DC. (Where I had my first two cycles. And those doctors had a great reputation.)

But I am not, and furthermore that practice turned out to be hideously inconvenient. (Only 1 office deals with frozen swimmers, which I didn’t realize until I had gone through their whole screening and pre-insem medical testing process. That office is an hour from our house. An hour if it isn’t rush hour.)

Jill is going to a totally different fertility practice, and we have our orientation appointment in a month. The place couldn’t be more different.

They have specialized services and materials for lesbian families, with questions about whether or not you are out, have social support for TTC and having children, etc. But they do seem oriented towards first time parents who haven’t yet chosen donors. I will be floored if our 2 hour orientation appointment takes the full 2 hours.

Hopefully the orientation will go well, the battery of tests will be quickly scheduled and not indicate anything too scary, and we will join the ranks of the actively TTC in the late spring or early summer.

Myself, I have emotions all over the map. Will I love another baby as much as I love Noah? Will I be jealous of not having the same physical connection to the new baby that I have with Noah? Will I be jealous of Jill getting to be pregnant, knowing that I probably won’t get to have that experience again? Will I be able to let her have her pregnancy and be pregnant her way, instead of butting in being miss know-it-all already-been-pregnant? At the same time, I’m thrilled at the idea of a second baby, I want Noah to get to be a big brother, and I know that it will be amazing for Jill to become a bio-mama.

And because it occurs to me you may want to know: We’re trying to use the same donor. We have 4 “units” left, which we hope will be enough. We don’t have a plan “B” if it isn’t — and I used 6 getting pregnant with Noah.

Wish us luck!