So a gay couple (male) in
New Zealand New South Wales* had a “surrogate” carry their (whose?) baby for them, and the “surrogate,” who is also referred to in the article as the “birth mother,” agreed to have her name left off the birth certificate so the child can be the legal (or, in Adopto-speak, the Actual Factual) but impossible offspring of two men, because growing up Frankenstein’s Fucking Creature is (you guessed it!) in the best interests of the child.
Look, a person cannot come into existence without a woman’s genetic contribution. To me, “surrogate” means a woman who agrees to carry in her womb for nine months the product of someone else’s sperm and another someone else’s egg. In this case, whose egg? Whose sperm? Whose? Surrogacy aside, who is this kid’s mother, who is this kid’s father, and how will s/he ever know?
“Stop asking such questions. WE had you made to order for US and you are OURS and that is all you need to know. It was in
OUR your best interests, so shut up!”
That poor kid. S/he may well have the two best, most loving dads in the Universe, but s/he’ll never know where s/he came from. And it’s no sad accident: s/he was created that way to order, on purpose. And this is not a crime against the child but A Landmark, because in an ideal world we would all be decanted and taught via conditioning which questions to ask and which ones never, ever, ever to ask at the risk of losing our parents’ love, assuming we still had parents, because what does that word even mean anymore?
Again, I think gay marriage and gay parenting are fine. I also think no one has a desire to parent that should be allowed to negate the parented’s need to know who they are and where they come from.
I mean, holy shit. Ho. Lee. SHIT.
*Thanks, Lauri Lee.