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Coming out... as pregnant

Telling your folks you're up the duff as well is a whole other ball game

Steph Mann

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 10:18:33 GMT | Updated 4 years today

Coming out can be pretty hard can't it?  I remember it very well. It was 13 years ago but it is crystal clear in my memory banks. My mum's reaction was absolutely great. She couldn't have cared less. In fact, she now said she had one of each, a girl, a boy and lesbian. My mum then went on to break the news to my dad. She sat him down and told him she had something to tell him about me.

He thought for a moment and said "well she is either pregnant or a lesbian, which one is it?". When my mum told him I wasn't pregnant he said "thank god for that!" and carried on just relieved he wasn't going to be a grandfather again.

So you can imagine my trepidation when several years later I did decide I wanted to be a mother. Should I tell my dad I was planning it or just wait until it happened? Getting pregnant could take months! I decided to go with the latter. My plan backfired completely. I genuinely believed I would have months to bring him round to the idea.  But of course, I got pregnant first time.

I sat him down to break the news. He knew instinctively that something was coming and looked at me quizzically.  "You're not coming out as straight are you?" he asked. "No dad, not that bad, but I am pregnant," I said.  "How?" was his one and only reply. I was floored. Would I really have to explain to him that I had taken a train to meet a man I'd met online, collected a pot of sperm and went home to make friends with a turkey baster? Well, it was a syringe, but you get the cliche. I told him to think about the question for a minute and consider if he really wanted an answer. He soon went very red and headed towards the whiskey.

Luckily he got over himself pretty quickly. And 9 months later held his grandson (grandchild number 6 I may add, so he is no stranger to it) and that was it.  When I told him I was pregnant again 18 months later he was much more relaxed about the whole thing. Thankfully he didn't ask" how" this time as it involved my wife driving an 80 mile round trip to collect from our donor, and drive back with a pot of sperm in her cleavage.

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