Louise
Sloan—a single, 41-year-old lesbian and new mother--has written a book
sure to drive the Bill O’ Reilly’s of the world absolutely bonkers. In
the vastly entertaining and heartfelt Knock Yourself Up, Sloan
tells her own (and the stories of many other single mothers, both gay
and straight) amazing story, highlighted by tales of Fed Exed sperm,
turkey basters and lots and lots of love and support from family and
friends.
 |
"If
my book helps single lesbians decide whether or not single motherhood's
for them, or to not feel so alone if they've chosen to pursue it,
that's great, too!" |  |
|
We
caught up with Sloan, a resident of Brooklyn, between feedings for her
now 16-month old son Scott to get some firsthand insight into her
eye-opening new book.
There's
so much talk now about gay “couples” adopting or having
children-certainly Rosie O' Donnell and Melissa Etheridge come
immediately to mind-- but now you're in a sense 'coming out' and
celebrating being a single gay parent. Do you feel like a role model?
Oh,
jeez. Not really! It's a strange position to be in, actually. I just
wanted to have a child, end of story. But then I basically fell into a
book deal—it wasn't even my idea to write a book on this topic; it was
an editor's—and now I'm a public figure representing both single
motherhood by choice and lesbian moms. Yikes! That said, I'll be
thrilled if my story can help some straight women see that lesbians
aren't so different from them. And of course, if my book helps single
lesbians decide whether or not single motherhood's for them, or to not
feel so alone if they've chosen to pursue it, that's great, too!
It's been said your story actually defies right wing stereotypes of gays or gay parents? How so?
That
was the salon.com writer's observation. I'm not sure she meant it
entirely from a gay angle. I think she meant that the stereotype of a
single mom is a poor, uneducated teenager who got pregnant by accident,
and whose child is likely to suffer due to poverty and an unstable home
environment. But she may have also meant that here I was, a politically
progressive, out lesbian choosing to be a single mom via sperm
donation, and I was doing it with the knowledge and full support of my
conservative, Southern, Republican family, and in some cases I was
actually having the tank of frozen sperm FedExed to my mom's house!
My
last at-home attempt was at my mom's house and she and my sister came
into my bedroom to chat with me while I was lying there, "basting,"
after the deed was done. I wrote that my insemination had turned into a
family-values event.
What's the biggest obstacle that a gay single woman faces when she wants to have a child? Is there a road map to follow?
Actually,
I think straight single women have more obstacles. First off, they have
to come to terms with the fact that their romantic partner won't be the
father of their child, which is something any lesbian who wants kids
realized the minute she came out. And artificial insemination is much
more of a new idea for straight women.
For
lesbians, it's the norm. For gay single women, there's a very detailed
road map to follow, since the lesbian baby boom has been in full force
for quite a while, now. There are books like Rachel Pepper's "The
Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians" (Rachel's a single mom by
choice, herself) and the comprehensive "New Essential Guide to Lesbian
Conception, Pregnancy and Birth" by Stephanie Brill. Those books are
aimed more at lesbian couples, though they are inclusive of single
lesbians and single straight women. In fact, many straight single women
have turned to lesbian friends and lesbian books for advice and
information--in this arena, we have definitely led the way. I think
some single lesbians still are thinking that being gay means not having kids, but that's much more rare these days.
Have you encountered any resistance or discrimination from people who may disapprove of your book or choice to become a mother?
I
haven't had any bad reactions in my personal life, and I was surprised
to find that most single moms by choice, even in states like Kansas and
South Carolina, encounter mostly support from their families and
communities. I thought there'd be more of a struggle, socially, for
women outside of big liberal cities like New York, L.A., and San
Francisco. But there seems to have been a big cultural shift--as I
wrote in the book, even Kansas isn't in Kansas anymore. Fifteen years
after the Murphy Brown brouhaha, most Americans realize that a mature
woman making a carefully considered, responsible decision to have a
child on her own is a good thing.
There
are so many kids born to people who didn't really think about it, don't
particularly like kids, or are in bad relationships. So, even if
there's some initial shock or reservation, when most people see a
wanted kid coming into a stable home, they see it as something to
celebrate. At least when they know the woman in question. There are
some pretty nasty comments about me online, which prompted the London
Observer to report that a "wave of rage" is sweeping the U.S. about my
book.
I
think that may be a wee bit of an overstatement, but there are
definitely some people who feel the choice to become a single mom is
selfish in the extreme, harmful to the child, indicative of a
man-hating and fatherhood-bashing perspective, and just plain immoral.
According to them, I am selfish and thoughtless child abuser who had a
child as a lifestyle accessory, like an espresso machine or a designer
handbag, and when poor Scott ends up in prison as a result of my choice
to become a single mom, I should be jailed, too.
What would you say to the right-wingers out there who would challenge or criticize your decisions or definition of family?
Well,
I agree with them that it's ideal for a child to have two parents and
to be able to know his or her biological father (and mother). The
former is why I wanted to coparent with a partner, and the latter is
why I initially wanted to use a known donor, and why I ended up
choosing an open-identity sperm-bank donor when that didn't work out.
But I think that the most important thing is for a child to be raised
in a stable home by a loving parent.
Two
parents doesn't mean two *good* parents, and not all fathers (or
mothers, for that matter) are good ones. In fact, there are some people
who would have been a lot better off not knowing one of their parents.
There isn't a person in this country, I'll bet, who doesn't know of a
family with a married mom and dad that was a terrible and damaging
environment for the children.
Turns
out the academic research comparing the kids of single-moms-by-choice
and lesbian moms to traditional heterosexual parents all shows the same
thing: what matters most to kids is not the number or sex or sexual orientation of the parents, but the quality of the parenting and the stability of the home. Duh!
What
I found reassuring about the research is that the vast majority of kids
of donor insemination don't seem to experience their lack of a father
as a wrenching loss, the way I do, having had a dad and lost him (he
died when I was not quite two). They are curious about their donor and
generally want to meet him or find out more about him, but they're not
looking for a dad, and when they have a loving mom or moms, they don't
seem to suffer too much for the lack of a father.
I
put a list and summary of the relevant research up at
www.knockyourselfup.com, because the questions about how this affects
the children come up a lot and people are quick to spout negative
statistics about the effects of single motherhood that are based on
kids who lost their fathers due to some sort of trauma, like death,
divorce or abandonment.
If you had this to do all over again, would you?
Absolutely.
I have never been happier. Scott is so much fun! Sure, I would have
preferred to do this 10 or 15 years ago, with a close friend as the
known donor and the love of my life as my coparent. But having Scott is
the best thing I've ever done. He is a joyful child who spreads joy to
others, as well. Of course, this is his mom speaking, but the world
would be a much poorer place without him in it.