Looking down into his wide brown eyes, I saw him trusting the softness of this day, basking in the predictability of love, and enjoying its warmth and attention. I knew then, as I reflected on the losses that 2004 has brought to the GLBT community, that the world we have created for him would not last much longer. I thought about his future and how the issues of homophobia are being directed toward him and toward us as a family as well as President Bush’s stance that denounces gay families proving that there is no arcadia to move to, no safe haven for gay families in this nation.

Other than group political action and voting in November, I have no way of protecting my son from those opposed to what is different than themselves, to those who only see one kind of family. The very legality of our existence as a family and my status as a parent is in question. Will I be able to adopt him through the co-adoptive process with my partner as planned or will that be blocked as it has been in other states, like Florida, solely because I am a lesbian? The fear is palpable day-to-day because I know that his future is in jeopardy and that with each decision my partner and I make, where to live, which school to send him too, and so on, we are setting in motion a chain of events that risk the future of our family.

But I cannot live in fear every moment. For each moment framed with fear there is another portrait drawn with the dreams, love and hope of a mother. Hope holds our future and hope is courageous. The hope for GLBT families is in the living of life, taking one step at a time, day by day, as the three of us do as we watch our family take shape. In the here and now, I am more worried about my son singing the "poo-poo in the potty" song in a restaurant, or pulling the cat’s tail when company is over, or having a screaming tantrum when it is time to leave the mall’s play area for a nap.

After all was said and done today, he laid down at bedtime for a story, made funny faces and practiced his new eye-wink, in order to pry a laugh out of his weary mothers. Then topped off the day with a sweet good night kiss that has become like whipped cream on Jell-O—we just gotta have it.

Micaela Raen has a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Creative Writing. During her college program, Micaela studied in Mexico and also spent a significant amount of time in Palestine and Israel. In Palestine, she studied the culture of conflict that outlines her family history, and located her grandfather’s family and birthplace in Ramallah, Palestine.