The Postmodern Family Vacation: What is the new normal?

I sifted through my Sunday paper yesterday morning, pulling out the usual bits- coupons, TV guide, Target ad, and USA Weekend. On the latter’s cover were pictures of the characters from NBCs debut of “The New Normal” and the corresponding story inside was titled “The Postmodern Family.”

“The Postmodern Family?”  Really?  How could I resist?

The article talked about the multitude of upcoming shows based on non-traditional families. TV historian Tim Brooks notes that television has often presented us with non-traditional families, as it reflects what’s already going on in our current society. For example, The Brady Bunch in its time reflected “the trend of a blended family,” where adults with children from previous marriages came together to form a new family unit.

This particular example rather amused me, as I just had a Very Brady Summer Vacation…

Back when I was pregnant with my son, there was a story on one of those news shows- 60 Minutes or 20/20- about the Donor Sibling Registry and families who had found each other through it.  These were families who had used the same donor in order to have their children. The story was about a set of half-siblings whose families had contacted each other with the help of the Registry, gotten to know one another, and eventually not only met, but went on a family vacation together.

I was amazed and impressed by the story, but at the same time was somewhat taken aback.  “That is great for them,” I thought to myself, “but I cannot imagine me doing that.  I think I would feel a little weird.”

The whole idea of using a donor, of having a child on my own, was so new to me at that point.  And while I was curious about other families that had used the same donor and was not above communicating with them, even meeting with them, I could not really picture myself hanging out down the shore with them.  It just seemed a little “out there” for me.

Nearly six years later, Little Man and I found ourselves on a plane to the West Coast for vacation. Where were we going? To meet two of his siblings and their moms and hang out at a beach house…down the shore…for a week.  Wait, what?

Explaining this to outside folks, hearing the words coming out of my mouth, it sounded so surreal. It was so interesting, fascinating.  People were fascinated. Truly. And excited. Excited at the opportunity for Little Man and for the mystery of it all. Perhaps we three Moms should write a pilot for our own show. I bet it would sell, too.  We have tons of material.

We had actually already met one of the siblings twice before, as he and his mom live in a nearby state. The other one we had never met.  We were going on vacation with people we had never met before. A little voice in the back of my head screamed, “what are you thinking?!” Yet the rest of my brain, the bigger, louder, more intuitive part, somehow knew it would be alright. That it was right. We have all kept in contact for so many years through FB, that in an odd way I did feel like I knew them.

Still, as we sat on the plane, eating our complimentary peanuts and drinking our tomato juice, little black clouds of doubt appeared in my mind, like pop-up thunderstorms in the summertime: what if the boys don’t get along? What if the moms don’t get along?  What if they don’t like him?  What if they don’t like me? What if we don’t like them?

And yet, it all seemed to fall into place.  We met Brother 1 and his mom at the airport and proceded to our rental car, following the directions to meet Brother 2, the one neither of us had met before. We immediately discovered that two boys born three days apart are LOUD. Being a one-child family, that was the first of many revelations. The boys were all so excited to meet each other, and spent quite a bit of time (after bonding over Angry Birds) running around shouting “Brother Hug!” followed by a sort of pile-on brother sandwich. They got along surprisingly well, although not without the typical arguments that ensue when you have both children of a similar age and siblings. We got a brief yet sufficient taste of what it might be like to have triplets.

Overall, it was a typical family vacation.  We got lost going somewhere we were sure we knew how to find.  We got sunburned at the beach. One brother spiked a mystery fever a few days in and was out of commission for two days. We went to an amusement park. We lost power and spent ½ an hour searching for candles and matches and flashlights with dead batteries. We took TONS of pictures. We bought souvenirs. We laughed a lot.

And in the Very Brady tradition, the boys decided to put on a play, which they wrote and performed for us.

All too quickly the week passed by and as the time came to leave, I felt as though I was parting with friends I had know for a long time. As Gonzo says, “there’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.” At the end of the week, the “three brothers from other mothers” went their separate ways, back to their individual families, yet having a clearer sense of a larger familial bond out there. There is still a brother and three sisters we know of that we have not yet met.  I wonder what other family outings lie in our future?

And that was just our FIRST summer adventure. Upon leaving our beach home, we met up with my mom and set off even further west, to visit my brother and his wife. Well, that sounds like a ‘regular’ family vacation, right? Ummmm…yes and no.  So, both of my parents were married before and each had a son from their previous marriage.  I grew up in the same house with the brother we were going to visit, although I had not seen him since I was a junior in high school. He was in the military for many years and was overseas for much of that time.  He had seen our mom more recently than me, although it had been far too long for her, too. We write occasionally and talk on the phone at Christmas.  He and my sister-in-law were married in the Philippines where she is from while they were both in the service, and we had never met her although they’ve been married for several years. My son as not met either of them before.

And so we sat on yet another plane, crossing the Pacific, headed for a new week of a very different family vacation. Once again, the scene was surreal as I headed out to spend another week with someone I had never met before.  It just did not really seem to be happening. When I told people about this impending trip, they were excited, but also in disbelief.  How could I not have seen my own brother for so long? I mean, what was wrong with us, anyway? No one said that, of course, but I could tell that some people were thinking it.

And you know what?  I didn’t really care. Circumstances were what they were and we simply did not have the funds on either end to make it happen. It was only by a bizarre twist of fate that I was able to make it happen now (but that story will have to wait for another post). The point was, it was happening now.

We finally got to meet my brother’s wife at the airport when they came to pick us up.  I haven’t seen my brother in such a long time I actually walked right past him at the baggage claim (although, to be fair, I was distracted by my mother who was fretting at the time over how we were going to find him), but the minute I heard his voice, I whipped around.  My son was just beaming with excitement. He hugged his uncle and auntie, just thrilled to be in their presence.

It didn’t take long for these pieces to fall into place, either.  Before the end of the day, Little Man and his Auntie were snuggled together on the couch watching PBS. My brother was cracking jokes and our mom was giggling hysterically. We settled in and were made to feel completely at home.

Overall, it was a typical family vacation.  We got stuck in tourist traffic.  We used lots of sunscreen.  Mom had tummy trouble. We went to an amusement park. My SIL had a problem with a client and had to stay home for part of our adventures.  We took TONS of pictures.  We bought souvenirs.  We laughed A LOT.

Again the week flew by and I found it hard to believe that it was already time to go. We had not seen each other in so long, yet it felt as if no time had passed at all between our visits. Having been surrounded by so many people over the past two weeks, it seemed a little odd to be heading home, just the Little Man and me. Yet as much as I enjoyed our travels, I was happy to soon be back to our own little house in our own little beds. It’s always nice to come back home again.

At home, we were met at the airport by yet another part of our family, what we refer to as our “extended” family, which contains honorary uncles and aunts who have been friends of mine for many years but are so close they might as well be official family members. We recounted to Uncle Charles as many of our adventures as our sleepy heads could conjure. He dropped us at our house and left us both with a hug and a kiss, and the promise to meet up with him and Uncle Stuart soon to recount the many stories we had to tell.

The USA Weekend article in Sunday’s paper talked about how the new season’s shows “push boundaries” in their depiction of families today. My family may not be “traditional,” but I assure you I’m not actually trying to push any boundaries; I’m just trying to live my life.

What is “the new normal?” It’s quite simple, really, and actually, nothing “new.” My family, in all its variations, is full of love and that, to me, is exactly what a “normal” family should be.

On Family: What’s Your Definition?

The word family is a funny one to me. Not funny ‘ha-ha’ (what a funny joke!) or funny ‘blah’ (that milk tastes funny; I think it’s gone bad). But funny ‘curious.’

A search on “family” in the Merriman-Webster online dictionary yielded eight individual definitions. These included variety of references to different types of ‘families,’ including those pertaining to science, math and the Mob (#8: “a unit of a crime syndicate (as the Mafia) operating within a geographical area”).

I’ve been through quite a few of these definitions of family throughout my life (although not #8…yet (hey, I am originally from Jersey—so I’m not quite ready to rule anything out just yet)). I am the product of a family unit in the strictly traditional sense that I had a father and mother, married to one another, who had me  (#5a, part 1: “the basic unit in society traditionally consisting of two parents rearing their children”).

However, both of my parents had been married before and each had a son from their previous marriage. My Mom’s son lived with my parents and me, which seems more like #1 (“a group of individuals living under one roof and usually under one head; household”), while my Dad’s son lived with his Mom, making he and I fit #2a (“a group of persons of common ancestry: clan”).

When I decided to become a single mom of a donor-conceived child, I became part of the second half of #5a: “any of various social units differing from but regarded as equivalent to the traditional family <a single-parent family>.” So glad to see that the dictionary officially qualifies my son and me as a family! But wait, there’s more…

Early in my pregnancy, I remember seeing a segment on one of those news shows (60 Minutes or 20/20 —I can’t remember which now) that was a story on donor-conceived families.  The story talked about the children of several families from the same donor; these families had made contact and the children had met. The children they had spoken to seemed happy to meet one another and enjoyed comparing notes about themselves and each other. Some of the families now even go on vacation together.

I have to admit, this one took me aback a little.  Vacation together?  Really??  That seemed a little extreme. But then again, I was just trying to make my way through a happy, healthy pregnancy, in order to birth a happy, healthy baby boy. I hadn’t even thought about what other siblings might be out there or how to find them.

The story made reference to the Donor Sibling Registry (DSR), a site started in September 2000 by Wendy Kramer and her donor-conceived son in order “to assist individuals conceived as a result of sperm, egg or embryo donation who are seeking to make mutually desired contact with others with whom they share genetic ties.” The site allows you to anonymously post information about a specific donor used, and gives you the option of allowing confidential contact with fellow parents, and in some cases, donors themselves, who choose to share their information within that group. To date, nearly 8,000 half siblings have been matched.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I went to the web page and searched the registry. I had scrolled through lines and lines of other donors with matches from my cryobank, only to find that my donor had no one listed. What?! Suddenly, I was very defensive—what was wrong with MY donor?  Why had no one else picked him?  He seemed just as good as 2142 and 1858—how could THEY have so many matches and I had none? Did I make a bad choice? Egad! Who knew this little search would turn from curiosity to angst in the click of a mouse?

I didn’t post any anonymous info at the time.  I hadn’t had the baby yet and didn’t want to ‘jinx’ it.., and I didn’t want to be the first (only?) one for my donor.

After my son was born and I’d gotten through the first few months of being a new parent, I went back to DSR to take another look. NOW there were several postings for my donor: girl born in 2005; boy born in 2006; etc. HOLY COW! A new wave of anxiety came over me. There were people out there with families of their own, who had children with the same paternal DNA as my sweet little angel.  What were they like?  Did they want to make contact?  Did I want to make contact? Were those children ‘family’ to Christopher in the same way that my parent’s children were to me? Would our individual families somehow blend to create something else?

The DSR webpage encourages families to think carefully about if/when they wanted to make contact with half sibling families, noting that each family comes with a different set of expectations that could change one way or the other as time went on. Some parents might just ‘lurk’-curious to find if there were any other donor families out there (sound familiar?), while others might be “hoping to develop an ongoing relationship that will become a friendship or resemble extended family.”

Was I ready for that?

I decided to create a post noting the birth of my son, and make initial contact with those who were already listed. I admit, I was giddy as I began to hear from this or that mother.  Nervous, cautious, but giddy nonetheless. First, it was very general and basic info: this one lives on the West Coast; yes, her daughter’s eyes were blue, too; no, we haven’t discovered any food allergies yet. Several of us eventually became comfortable enough to share our personal email addresses and we’d write back and forth on occasion, sharing various bits of information.  We began to share pictures. Emails were flying back and forth.  A better way to communicate was needed.

And so, we took the leap and utilized a social networking site.  We discovered many common interests and beliefs. We began talking about meeting. We fantasized about renting a cabin somewhere where we could all meet.  Wait, were we talking about trying to take a vacation together?! Suddenly, the idea did not seem so crazy. It seemed exciting!

In contacting these families, I feel I’ve found a kinship.  And a family. Perhaps a combination of a “clan” and #3a: “a group of people united by certain convictions or a common affiliation: fellowship.” The social site allows us to share those everyday things that you cherish about your kids…but might not include in the annual Christmas card letter.

Speaking of which, last year we decided to exchange Christmas cards with one another, which meant telling all the kids about each other.  Some had already broached the subject. Several of us were a little anxious.  How would the kids take it?  What do we call each other? How much info is too much?  Too little?  Since all our kids were under age 8, we were not all sure how things would go.

Turns out, once again, all the anxiety was for naught.  The kids seemed just fine: both excited and interested in their half siblings.  Some of us are single moms and some are lesbian couples, which led to a lovely discussion in our house about different types of families and how wonderful it was to all have different groups of people who love and care for us.  When we got our first card from a fellow single mom, my son, with a huge smile on his face, exclaimed, “he only has a mommy, just like me!” I could not help but grin. We still have all the pictures of the kids on our refrigerator. We went to the map in his room and drew stars on the cities where all his half siblings live. We even met one of them this summer. But that’s a story for another post…

I have a window sticker on my car from an organization called “Love Makes A Family,” a group supporting marriage equality for LGBT couples.  I put it on my car for two reasons.  I support their fight for marriage equality:  the right to be a “legal” family. I know many LGBT couples, and their families are just as ‘legitimate’ as anyone else’s.

But I also put it on my car because I believe in the simple, clear overall message: LOVE makes a family.

Perhaps that should be definition #9.