I'm going to describe many of the common emotional experiences that lesbians go through in the process of inseminating. Obviously I can't cover every aspect of everyone's experience, but hopefully I'll touch on the bulk of them. I'll be describing the experiences of a fictional couple--a composite of lots of lesbian couples I have worked with or known.

Abby is 40 and proud of her Jewish heritage. Jennifer is 35, and proud of her Asian-American heritage. Abby wants children very badly. Jennifer wonders if it's worth the trouble, and if she could really have the energy and money to support children. She wonders if she'll get enough attention from Abby if Abby has a baby, and she wonders if she'll really be included if the baby is biologically Abby's.

Jennifer also wonders if it is fair to bring a baby into a bi-racial, lesbian home where there'll be homophobia and racism to deal with, and where there is no Dad (though she feels guilty about this politically incorrect fear). She thinks a known donor would be a good idea, but fears she'd be left out and feel invisible. Abby wants a known donor too, so that the child can know it's father, and so she and Jennifer can know that the donor is a good and healthy guy. She hates the idea of not knowing exactly what genes her child will have.

The two of them talk intimately with each male friend they have about being a donor. Each one gets excited about it, and Abby and Jennifer feel excited and scared as they picture their lives with a child and this man. Ultimately, each man either wants to be as involved as Abby and Jennifer in raising the child, or is unwilling to do it al all, or has a partner who is unwilling to let him. Jennifer feels increasingly threatened as she hears men talk about being "Daddy" and telling his parents about his child so they can spend time with their grandchild. She imagines scenarios like schools calling the parents in for a conference and herself being the third wheel.

Abby is sensitive to Jennifer's feelings and gets tired of presumptuous, entitled men anyway, so agrees to use an unknown donor--one from the sperm bank who's willing to be known when the child is 18; this is their compromise between known and unknown. Still, Abby feels sad about not knowing what the guy looks like, how he treats women, whether he has a propensity for car sickness, or nose hair, etc. She also feels anxious about the idea of growing a baby inside her body that came from a total stranger.

Both Abby and Jennifer feel sad about not knowing the donor, and angry that the baby can't just come from the two of them. They hate that there's this major intrusion into their relationship of a third person they don't even know. Their grief about these loses makes them irritable, and gives them vague doubts about whether it's really okay for lesbians to do this. They also have a vague sense of profound difference between them--Abby will have this experience in her body; the child may look like her, and people will treat her, when she's pregnant, with special admiration. Jennifer will not have any of these experiences.

Because of the grief, the awareness of difference in experience between them, and of the difference in power and privilege in a heterosexist, racist culture between a pregnant woman and a pregnant woman's female, Asian-American life partner, they begin to pick at each other. They feel intolerant of each other's habits because of their effect on a child. Each fears the other will raise the child with her own bad habits. Abby can't stand that Jennifer eats greasy, sugary fast food, because she wants her child only to eat healthy food, and knows kids learn eating habits from watching their parents. Jennifer can't stand that Abby runs up bills on her credit cards when she's depressed, because she wants her kid to treat money with more respect. They fight and are tense with each other. They feel overwhelmed by the commitment involved in agreeing to parent a child together for the rest of their lives. They begin to feel trapped with someone who is really not much better than their own parents, and this makes every difference and every criticism of one another feel very important.

In spite of these hard periods, they begin to inseminate feeling hopeful and excited. They do a loving, welcoming ritual and nervously inseminate. Both have a sudden flash of panic as the sperm goes into Abby (having a sense of not being able to turn back now), but neither admits her panicked thoughts. They are afraid if they're panicking now, maybe they don't really deserve to have a baby; maybe they don't want it enough. Abby had been taking her temperature for six months already, and used an expensive ovulation kit to determine when to inseminate. She's pretty sure they hit it right.

For two weeks they wait to see if Abby is pregnant. Abby checks her breasts for pain or swelling several times a day, and tries to determine if her uterus feels changed. Jennifer asks her several times each day if she thinks she's pregnant, and near the end of the two weeks, even glances at Abby's wad of toilet paper for blood. They talk about plans for the baby and Abby buys some baby clothes. They talk about their fears and excitement. After 14 days that are the longest 14 days they ever experienced, Abby takes a pregnancy test. It's negative. Abby feels a heavy dropping sensation in her chest and belly, and feels despondent--as if she'd just found out a friend had died. She tells Jennifer, and Jennifer is sure the test is wrong, since Abby hasn't gotten her period. The next day, Abby starts to bleed. Both of them are very disappointed, but get busy arranging for the next sperm buy and ovulation calculation.

They call the sperm bank and find that the sperm from the donor they'd painstakingly picked has all been sold for this month. They take time off from work, and rush in to look at files of donors. They have to pick a donor they don't feel as comfortable with as their original choice. Compromises seem to keep being required. Abby checks her body constantly for signs of ovulation-both women feel the pressure of doing it right and both feel a sense of shame about having failed the first time. Among other issues, the cost of the sperm, and the amount of money they have saved, limits the number of times they can try.

All of this is repeated over the next four months. Except they stop doing the ritual before each insemination, and begin watching television and answering the phone during the insemination process. Both of them focus on little else besides inseminating. It is difficult to talk or think about anything else. Both of them begin to view Abby's body as a fragile pregnancy machine, and the idea of making love with this object of their mechanical focus becomes less appealing to both of them. It is as if they want to protect Abby' vagina, mucus, and whole reproductive system from anything but nurturance of their role in fertility.

In the mean time, they continue the roller coaster of hope, fear of disappointment, and total deflation through each month's cycle. They try to force themselves not to get hopeful, so the disappointment won't be so great, but each time Abby gets her period, they find themselves feeling grumpy and miserable again. The feelings of shame and failure increase for both of them; the grief builds, as does the irritability. Each fears that the other blames her. Jennifer begins to wonder if Abby is too old for this, and if she, Jennifer, wouldn't be able to get pregnant more easily.

Of course, she wouldn't dare say this to Abby who already feels insecure and pressured as her biological clock ticks. Abby wonders if she's facing menopause sooner than she'd expected and fears she'll never get pregnant. Jennifer feels a sense of impotence and infertility herself because she is unable to make Abby pregnant. Their savings are dwindling, and they feel increasingly desperate to get pregnant. Abby begins crying every time she sees a pregnant woman or a child. She craves control over her body, and begins to feel willing to do almost anything to get pregnant, even things she would never have considered at the beginning of this process.

Their friends ask them frequently how it's going, and their heterosexual friends tell them stories about people who got pregnant when they "relaxed" and "stopped trying." Abby and Jennifer are acutely aware of how hard they have to try just to make this happen; they resent and envy the ease and fun most heterosexuals have in getting pregnant.

Jennifer tells her family that they're trying, and her family refers to the baby as Abby's and does not understand (though Jennifer has been out to them for years) what Jennifer has to do with Abby's having a baby. Jennifer is left feeling invisible, enraged, and undeserving.

Jennifer and Abby question whether to plan for a baby or not. They have to move from their apartment and don't know whether to rent a bigger one or not-or to try to buy a house, something they want to do eventually, but seems overwhelming on top of all this.

Abby doesn't buy new clothes because she's afraid she won't be able to wear them long if she gets pregnant soon. They can't plan a vacation because it might occur when Abby's ovulating, and they don't want to miss a month, because each month they wait adds to their despair and hopelessness about ever getting pregnant. Abby wants to leave her job, but doesn't want to have to take maternity leave soon after she's in a new job, so she stays in her current job in case she's pregnant this month, or will be next month. Two weeks of the month, Abby doesn't take hot tubs, drink alcohol or coffee, do drugs, eat raw fish, change the cat box, get x-rays, or use cleaning products with hazardous fumes. Their lives are on hold in many, many ways. Because of all of this, they constantly feel a sense of deprivation. Abby charges some stereo equipment to her credit card, and Jennifer begins consistently eating at the 7-11 for breakfast, McDonalds for lunch, and KFC for dinner. Both women begin to feel like a failure at everything they do.

After eight months of this, Abby can't take it anymore, and goes to a doctor for fertility testing. The doctor tells her she is not defined as infertile until she "has had unprotected sex for one year," and that her insurance won't pay for testing or intervention before that. She feels as if she's been doing this most of her life already, and can hardly stand the idea of waiting four more months before even finding out if she's doing all this for nothing because something is "infertile" about her-perhaps something that could easily be corrected. She doesn't know how to tell the doctor that she's at the end of her rope, and can't wait four months because she and Jennifer haven't made love for five months, and that they are fighting and tense much of the time. She begins to wonder if there isn't something terribly wrong with her or her relationship. She wonders if she should even be doing this with Jennifer and Jennifer wonders why she's doing this at all.

They press on. Abby goes to a different doctor and tells her she's been trying for a year. The doctor does tests on her-blood tests, and a hysterosalpingogram-which Abby finds to be very painful and frightening. The doctor finds nothing wrong. She tells Abby to relax and keep trying, but agrees to do intrauterine inseminations to increase her chances. After several more cycles, Abby demands a fertility drug, and begins taking it. Each new technique gets their hopes up again and dumps them in despair when it doesn't work either. The drug makes her irritable and depressed, and Jennifer gets the fallout. Finally, after two years of trying, Abby is ready to give up, though with tremendous feelings of loss, when on her last try, she gets pregnant.

Clearly, this story doesn't include some major issues, such as the experience of miscarriage, which occurs in about one of four pregnancies. Miscarriage adds to the grief, despair, sense of defectiveness, and feelings of guilt, shame and failure. I also haven't included many scenarios that go smoothly, or have other obstacles.

Also, I haven't talked about how Abby and Jennifer might have handled their stresses better. Even with all these stresses, there are many ways for lesbian couples to get through this and even get closer because of the experience. I have included some suggestions for this at the end. First I want to emphasize a couple of points now with regard to the stress. The first thing that needs to be available to every lesbian going through this is information about the emotional experiences to expect. For a woman to hear other lesbians talk about having the same feelings she thought were crazy or wrong to have can go a long way toward easing the stress. In addition to that information, it is important to have information about fertility, as it applies to lesbians who are inseminating. This is clearly not generally what is being addressed when doctors talk about fertility, because they are referring to heterosexuals.

Fertile heterosexual couples having sex have about a 25% chance of becoming pregnant each month they try. In addition, they are engaging in an act of love and pleasure, supported by family and culture. Lesbians inseminating with frozen sperm have about a 3-4% chance of becoming pregnant each month they try. (This statistic comes from the Northern California Sperm Bank in Berkeley). In addition, lesbians are engaging in a mechanical act that involves a great deal of money, effort, organization, and tolerance for doing something most of the world believes to be immoral. So the heterosexual definition of infertility does not work for lesbians in two ways: first, the stress is so intense that to wait a year before assessing and enhancing fertility creates burnout. Secondly, not getting pregnant after a year with a 25% chance each month may be a significant reflection of fertility, whereas, not getting pregnant after a year of a 4% chance each month is nowhere near as significant an indication of fertility.

Following are some ideas that may help emotionally with the insemination process, particularly when it takes longer than 3 or 4 months. They are oriented toward couples, so single lesbians and lesbians in relationship with more than one person will have to adapt some of the ideas to their situation. Everyone is different, so use what makes sense for you!

1) Understand heterosexism in fertility definition.

 2) Get information about what other lesbians feel during the process so you don't wonder if you are crazy or your relationship bad.

 3) Lesbians getting together now need to discuss, while they're dating, whether or not they want children.

 4) If you want a known donor, begin talking to men about it long before you need them, and then be very clear with them what your expectations are.

 5) Consider whether it is better for you, personally, to plan for the possibility that inseminating could take years, and prepare yourself emotionally, financially, and in other ways (of course you also have to be prepared for the possibility that you'll get pregnant right away). Or whether you are more suited to taking it one month at a time with the expectation that you'll get pregnant each time.

 6) Learn as much as you can about when you ovulate before you begin inseminating, unless you are likely to burn out on assessing ovulation if you practice too much.

 7) Try to choose a time in your life when there are no other major stresses during the time you'll be inseminating.

 8) Use outside resources for support-workshops, groups, individual or couples counseling, books, and get positive support for your identity as a lesbian.

 9) Talk to each other honestly about your vulnerable feelings, especially when you are spending a lot of time picking at each other or fighting.

 10) While things are relatively calm and connected in your relationship, strategize together how you can cope as a couple when both of you feel anxious and/or insecure at the same time. This is the hardest time for couples.

 11) Consider taking breaks in inseminating when you start to get burned out.

 12) Make a commitment to continue your sexual relationship, to take special time, preferably out of your normal routine, to be together.

 13) Make a commitment to encourage each other to express the feelings that result from the many deep heartbreaks usually involved in the insemination process.

 14) Don't expect not to be stressed.

 15) Don't expect your partner to react the same as you.

 16) Tell your partner what you need from her to help you cope.

 17) Take care of your health.

 18) Do what gets you through any other stress, whether that is a spiritual life, journal writing, relaxation techniques, healthy food, regular exercise, or whatever.

 19) Directly address your feelings of shame-feeling like a failure, a defective woman, a person undeserving of parenthood, etc.

 20) Get support in therapy for the painful feelings, the places you get stuck emotionally, or in the relationship, or the feelings left over from childhood that inseminating stimulates.