Pride Angel

ScienceDaily (Mar. 30, 2010) — The rise of multidrug resistance in gonorrhoea-causing bacteria is threatening to make this sexually-transmitted infection extremely difficult to treat. Professor Catherine Ison, speaking at the Society for General Microbiology's spring meeting in Edinburgh, highlighted the very real possibility that strains of Neisseria gonorrhoeae resistant to all current treatment options could emerge in the near future.

Professor Ison, from the Health Protection Agency (HPA) in London, described how some strains of the gonococcal bacteria that cause the disease are now showing decreased sensitivity to the current antibiotics used to treat them -- ceftriaxone and cefixime.

Gonorrhoea is the second most common bacterial sexually-transmitted infection and if left untreated can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease, ectopic pregnancy and infertility in women. Current treatment consists of a single dose of antibiotic given in the clinic when prescribed, by mouth for cefixime and by injection for ceftriaxone.

"Choosing an effective antibiotic can be a challenge because the organism that causes gonorrhoea is very versatile and develops resistance to antibiotics very quickly," explained Professor Ison. "Penicillin was used for many years until it was no longer effective and a number of other agents have been used since. The current drugs of choice, ceftriaxone and cefixime, are still very effective but there are signs that resistance particularly to cefixime is emerging and soon these drugs may not be a good choice," she said.

Bacteria isolated from patients diagnosed with gonorrhoea are tested for their susceptibility to various antibiotics to monitor patterns of resistance at a local and national level. Ongoing monitoring of antimicrobial resistance is critical to ensure that first-line treatments for gonorrhoea remain effective. "There are few new drugs available and so it is probable that the current use of a single dose may soon need to be revised and treatment over several days or with more than one antibiotic will need to be considered," Professor Ison warned. "If this problem isn't addressed then there is a real possibility that gonorrhoea will become a very difficult infection to treat," she said.

Article from ScienceDaily (30th March 2010)

Read more about Gonorrhoea

‘The nurse handed me a plastic jar and led me to a small room. There was a TV showing a porn film...’

Hospital workers hustle past, oblivious. They’ve seen it a thousand times. I’m standing outside the delivery room, a newborn swathed in a blanket in my arms. If there’s an amazed look on my face, it’s because the child is my first. The hitherto hypothetical being is now embodied in precise measurements: she weighs 8lb 1oz; she is 20in long; her head, which fits into my hand, has a circumference of 14in; she was born at 8.39pm; she is a girl. When she screws up her face against the hospital’s fluorescent lights, I instinctively shield her eyes.

Wind back three years to April 2007. I was a single guy living in a flat by the beach. I had just bought a motorcycle. During the day I worked at a magazine, while after hours I was writing a novel. One Sunday night, I came home, switched on the computer and received an e-mail from an old friend:

“Hi gorgeous family & friends, “For the first time in my life I can’t call, e-mail or text you individually thus the group e-mail. You may or may not have heard that I’m heading to Sydney to get treatment for breast cancer on Monday. It’s stage 1 and they have caught it early but apparently quite aggressive so seems I’m in for a bit of chemo.”

I was 11 years old when we met, on a family holiday at a ski lodge in the Snowy Mountains. Tina was 13, the second of four kids. She had thick black curls above a ready smile and sharp blue eyes. Her father was a sheep farmer who, when I was 14, slaughtered a lamb in the shed, cut out its beating heart and handed it to me. By then we were close family friends.

Tina grew up to become a trader in Hong Kong, from where she sent the e-mail.

My reply felt unequal to the situation: “What a shock. Thinking of you. Will help in any way I can.”

Two days later, Tina replied: “I have no idea how to phrase or approach this so am going to come straight out with it. Would you consider sperm donation?

“I don’t want you to feel pressure to do this just because I am sick. It would have to be something in principle you felt happy to do.”

OK, there it is – right there on the table.

“It felt like a frozen pea,” she said of the first lump she’d felt on her breast early one morning, dressing for work. We were sitting on a cliff overlooking the sea. The swell was rolling in, in long, tidy lines. The sun was out. Tina smiled a lot, though her smile seemed unnaturally fixed. She’d had a lumpectomy ten days previously, and her doctors had said that she had “clear margins”, meaning they’d found no cancer in the tissue surrounding the tumours they had removed. But it was a high-grade cancer, and they were putting her on an aggressive course of chemotherapy.

I was frightened. If my oldest friends were getting cancer, why not me? And death had been on my mind anyway: my father had died suddenly of a heart attack the previous year. But I knew my fear was irrational. Tina’s wasn’t.

“I’m worried the chemo will fry my eggs,” she said. “I want an insurance policy.” The fertility specialist had told her that freezing eggs was a waste of time. Embryos are a lot hardier. But she didn’t have time to find an anonymous donor. There was (and still is) a severe donor-sperm shortage in Australia. You can spend years waiting. Her oncologist had agreed to delay the chemo only long enough for her to have one period: as soon as she started menstruating, she needed to extract the eggs, fertilise them and freeze the embryos. Then she had to start chemo.

If I agreed, she said, the possibility of it resulting in a baby was remote. First, there was the cancer: she wasn’t in the clear yet, and she wouldn’t know more until after the chemo and radiation therapy. Then, there was the fallibility of IVF: plenty of things could go wrong, especially since we only had one shot at it.

But even with the long odds, I knew it could lead to a baby. I thought about my beachside pad, the draft of my novel, my motorcycle. I valued my bachelor life. Tina said that in the unlikely event that the baby was born, she’d ask nothing of me. I could remain anonymous if I wanted to.

I meant it when I offered to help. I tried to imagine how I would be with cancer. What would be my priorities? What would I hope for?

My decision boiled down to this: baby or no baby, I knew I could live with myself if I helped her. I didn’t want to face the feeling that would follow turning down a friend in serious trouble. Plus, I was flattered.

Not that I had reason to be. She was asking me because I was single, straight and healthy – a rare hat trick in Sydney. She planned to recover, then meet a man and have babies the old-fashioned way. But just in case, knowing the embryos would be there, frozen in nitrogen, while the cancer-killing drugs polluted her body, would give her something to hope for.

Ten days later, I was in the IVF clinic. A nurse handed me a plastic sample jar and led me to a small, windowless room in the centre of the building. There was a TV showing a porn film, a side table with porn magazines and a box of tissues on it, and, aptly, a La-Z-boy recliner. A button on the wall had a sign next to it that read, “Press here when you have produced a sample and a scientist will collect it.” I felt like the king bee in the royal cell of a gender-flipped hive.

The IVF was successful. I wondered at the scientists in their lab, orchestrating on behalf of total strangers a phenomenon that usually happens in intimacy, then going to lunch. They froze three of our embryos and five of Tina’s eggs in nitrogen.

First Tina’s hair went. Then her eyebrows. Then her eyelashes. After four months of chemo, Tina did seven weeks of radiation therapy. Then she went skiing.

Meanwhile, I had started dating a woman and was discovering consequences to what I’d done that I hadn’t anticipated. My mother had warned me that the embryos would be an issue for other women in my life, but I hadn’t believed her. I was sure they’d see the bigger picture.

In January 2008 – eight months after I’d donated – I got an e-mail from Colorado. Tina had had her first period since the clinic. She’d beaten the cancer and she was ovulating. Her hair grew back, black and curly. She came back to Sydney and met someone. In October, she found out she was pregnant. I was off the hook.

Three months later, I received another e-mail: the baby had a chromosomal disorder. Tina had been through too much; she decided to terminate. But it cost her dearly. She went into a meltdown. The boyfriend was out of the picture. She asked if she could use her insurance policy – the embryos made with the pre-chemo eggs.

My relationship with my girlfriend had deteriorated by then, and the embryos had become a bone of contention (we split not long after). And quite apart from that, I was terrified of having a baby.

I didn’t have to do it. If I said no, Tina could try thawing her pre-chemo eggs and looking for an anonymous donor. But I remembered what the fertility specialist had said. You need embryos.

My generation is smarter, freer and probably happier than my parents’. But there is one torment unique to us, or at least half of us: all those single women approaching 40 and terrified by the prospect of never having children. Think about that for a moment. By virtue of being a man, I’ve had the time to travel the world, try one profession and then another, go back to university, and remain a bachelor as long as I like, knowing that whenever I’m ready to settle down, I can. I understood why so many women in Sydney were becoming choice mothers.

I considered Tina’s situation. She had courage and determination. She had a successful career and owned a nice house where she could raise a child. She was close to her sister, who had agreed to adopt the child if the cancer returned and the worst happened. Most of all, I knew that the baby would be born into welcoming arms and excellent, if unusual, circumstances. I thought about the amity between us and went with my gut feeling. Now I had nine months to put some order into my thoughts and decide what role I wanted to play in the child’s life.

The easiest line to take was to call it her baby. I could tell myself I’d done a favour for a friend in need, get a pat on the back and step out of the picture.

Then, there was the godfather line. Tina would parent the child, but I’d be there at the periphery. That seemed the fairest deal – she got the child she wanted and I got a bit part. Friends of mine, fathers, said, only half-jokingly, that I’d have the best of both worlds: all the pride of being a father without ever having to change a nappy.

But how far out was this periphery? The “godfather” analogy falls down under scrutiny. What was I planning to do, buy the kid a subscription to National Geographic and phone on his birthday for the next 18 years? I realised that I had nothing to pattern after.

I had to work it out for myself. Three months passed. I flipped the whole thing around and tried to imagine it from the child’s perspective. On a piece of paper, I made a list of things I would want from my father, were I a child. I wrote down “loved”, “valued”, “protected”. I wrote down the word “conversation” and stared at it a while. When I was 28, I had called my father some names in anger. We didn’t speak for years. Then he died suddenly. Conversation seemed important. Tina was now in her second trimester. Friends were intensely curious. Men especially asked, “What’s the legal situation?” The legal situation was that when the child was born, Tina would leave the father’s name off the birth certificate. If I wanted to, I could put it in later. As far as the government was concerned, she was a single parent. Still, my name was all over the IVF documentation. People suggested I get something in writing from her. I told them we had done everything in the spirit of friendship. “Friendships sour,” they said.

On the web, I found cases where the relationship between a donor and a recipient had soured. And I knew from experience that we have it in us to spit poison at one another – my parents’ divorce had been one of the most toxic events of my life.

Despite that, I didn’t want a contract. We weren’t dealing with a commodity here. The media always report it when donors and recipients turn against each other, but never when things work out. Tina and I understood one another perfectly. She had assumed financial responsibility from the start, that day on the cliff. There had never been any question on that front. She was happy for me to have as much or as little engagement with the kid as I wanted. The only thing she asked was that whatever I decided to do, I do it consistently, for the child’s sake. That made sense to me. There’s an old gag: how do you make God laugh? Tell Him your plans. The baby was due in early February. In January, I fell in love.

I made sure my new partner met the woman carrying my child. If it was a deal-breaker, it was better to find out now. My partner wasn’t thrilled, but to her eternal credit, she could see the bigger picture. Her first question was, of course, what role are you going to play?

The answer came on February 9, when I arrived at the hospital half an hour after Tina had given birth. Donors are less prepared than most men for what happens to you when you meet your child. I know now that what you feel when you become a father is beyond the understanding of non-fathers. It’s difficult to put into words. It feels like your being billows out from you like a womb. You become larger. All the questions that had plagued me for nine months seemed irrelevant. All the intellectual disciplines – ethics, sociology, psychology – that frame those questions seemed profane. They deal in abstractions, whereas my child was in the world. She weighed 8lb 1oz and measured 20in. She had a name: Sabine. I held her in my arms and knew that I was meeting a witness to my life and to its worth. I felt I had to examine more fully what I believe. I knew I loved her. I thought of my father and the troubles we’d had. I shielded her eyes from the light.

From The Times March 27, 2010

Read more about donating sperm or finding a known sperm donor.

Julie Cameron was just 15 years old when doctors told her she would never have children. The distraught teenager was diagnosed with Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser Syndrome, an extremely rare condition that meant she was born without a womb, cervix or fallopian tubes. So imagine her surprise 20 years later when Julie learned that she actually had two healthy ovaries - by using Google.

She typed the name of her condition into the search engine one night and was stunned to find that although she could never carry a child, her ovaries could produce eggs

Doctors 'never mentioned' that modern fertility techniques meant she could, in theory, could have a biological child using a surrogate. After discovering her ovaries carry healthy eggs, Mrs Cameron has found a willing surrogate and is now rying to raise £5,000 for the first round of IVF treatment.

If that works, she will need a further £10,000 to pay for surrogacy expenses. She said: 'It was a complete revelation - I just Googled it and the article that came up was about surrogacy. 'The article mentioned that women with my condition have no womb but still have healthy ovaries. I thought, "you have got to be kidding me".

'I got myself checked out and found I too had healthy ovaries. 'I always thought having a child was impossible for me and would Unable to qualify for IVF, Mrs Cameron and her chef husband, 31, are now on a fundraising drive to make their dream of becoming parents come true.

Mrs Cameron said: 'Having spent 20 years believing I had absolutely no chance at all of having a child, to discover I have healthy ovaries and there is a chance for me is still all quite surreal.

'As a teenager I had always wanted to be a teacher because I loved children and always had done. 'I took for granted that in some point in my future I would get married and have children of my own. 'So it was devastating when I was diagnosed, it felt like the bottom had fallen out of my world. 'I couldn't get my head around the thought that when I was gone there would be nothing of me to leave behind - that when I died it would be like I never existed.'

Husband Marti said that for 10 years he too had thought he would never be able to have his own child with his wife.

He said: 'We would have been looking into fostering and adoption and things like that and we still would have been none the wiser. 'The internet is full on information for people of all sorts of ages but I wouldn't have expected Julie not to have known something like that anyway. 'She's an intelligent woman and I thought every avenue had been explored.

'Now it's just a case of keeping our fingers crossed and hoping it works.'

Susan Seenan, from Infertility Network UK, said: 'Infertility is extremely difficult to deal with and finding out you will never have children is one of the hardest things a woman could face. 'It must have been awful thinking she was infertile for such a long time.

'It is absolutely lovely that they can now look forward to having a child of their own.'

If you want to help the Camerons raise the money for IVF, join the Help Julie and Marti Cameron to get their very own Baby Cameron! group on Facebook

Read more: www.dailymail.co.uk

Read more about IVF and Surrogacy

The equality bill, with its provisions for churches to host civil partnerships, has cracked Westminster's veneer of tolerance

Anyone would think there's an election on the horizon. Jubilant Labour activists are delighted that David Cameron has been caught on camera – in an interview broadcast on Channel 4 News last night – appearing to prevaricate evasively not only over his dodgy European allies but also over whether he should have told his MPs and peers to back amendments to the new equality bill which will permit churches to host civil partnership ceremonies if they wish.

What short memories politicians have. Just three weeks ago it was the Labour party itself that refused to whip members of the House of Lords in support of this perfectly reasonable provision. Labour peers were subject to furious arm-twisting from cabinet ministers in a bid to frustrate a modest further step towards equality.

Consequently it was a heroic quartet of backbenchers, including Lord Alli, Lady Neuberger – "Which Jewish mother wouldn't want to see their child married in a synagogue?" – and the Tory peer Lady Noakes, who shamed the Lords into adopting this perfectly fair-minded proposal supported by Stonewall and others.

The Tories initially put up Lord Hunt of Wirral to explain their opposition. In the end, just like the government, the Conservatives gracelessly offered their peers a free vote.

Liberal Democrats, however cuddly, aren't immune from anti-gay spite. Yesterday the Roman Catholic peer Lady Williams also sought to move an amendment in the Lords that would have given adoption agencies the right to turn away homosexual clients. Her suggestion would have driven a coach and horses through the now settled principle of adoption, that it's solely the welfare of the child and not personal prejudices that should always come first. (You might think that if Lady Williams was motivated, as suggested, by the need to "protect children", the Roman Catholic church might have other priorities at present.)

The message seems pretty clear. Whatever parties tell gay voters they've done for them in the recent and distant past, ask what they'll be doing in the future. And don't make presumptions about individual candidates on the basis of their party allegiance either.

Stonewall's analysis of MPs' votes in the current parliament shows that George Osborne and Francis Maude have better recent voting records on gay equality than one in five Lib Dem MPs. And Kate Hoey, the least gay-friendly of all Labour MPs, has a voting record worse than more than 120 Conservatives.

All of which demonstrates that, however gay-friendly they are or claim to be, most politicians still lag sadly some years behind the progressive instinct of a decent British public. But then we, of course, are the one group of people whose voices won't get heard in the next six weeks at all.

Article by Ben Summerskill from www.guardian.co.uk

Read more about gay parenting options

Doctor's Diary: James Le Fanu from the Telegraph looks at the complex issue of egg donation

The prospects for women wishing to have children but unable to do so because their ovaries cannot produce eggs are compromised by the limits of human generosity. People may be only too happy to provide for (virtually) nothing their blood or sperm for the benefit of strangers, or donate a spare kidney to a relative in need, but the practicalities of donating eggs that may require taking drugs and a laparoscopic procedure to harvest them is a call too far.

This is one of the few situations in which the market offers a better (or indeed the only) way to match supply with demand by paying prospective donors a generous sum for their eggs – highlighted by the decision of the Genetics and IVF Institute last week to “raffle” a human egg as a way of drawing attention to the service that it provides.

There are several practices – cloning, experiments on human embryos and the like – that are morally highly contentious but providing women with the opportunity to appreciate the joys of motherhood they would otherwise be denied can scarcely be described, as claimed, to be “a ruthless exploitation of the vulnerable”.

Become an egg donor

Becoming an egg donor takes a special person and is so important in transforming the lives of infertile couples. By deciding to be an egg donor you have the opportunity to help an infertile woman bring a child into their life, which is by far the best gift anyone could receive. There are an increasing number of women worldwide who, for many reasons, can not conceive and need an egg donor. Unfortunately many women never get the opportunity to undertake treatment due to a shortage of egg donors.

Willing to help women by donating eggs?

Pride Angel is looking for genuine women, lesbian, straight, single or married who are willing to help infertile women achieve their dream of becoming parents. Egg donors are able to donate directly to the woman or couple of their choice by personal arrangement.

Read more about egg donation

Sports players and fans are being targeted in a campaign to get more sperm donors to help couples struggling to conceive.

The National Gamete Donation Trust wants to increase the number of new donors in the UK to about 500, from its latest figure of 384.

Leaflets and posters are being sent to 30 sports clubs and venues in the pilot area of Greater Manchester. One in six couples in the UK struggles to conceive and some areas have waiting lists for those who need donor sperm.

In the UK there are hundreds of couples who need a sperm donor to help them conceive the child they long for so much, either because of infertility or genetic disease

Laura Witjens, from the National Gamete Donation Trust It is hoped that the sports theme of the posters will encourage more men to come forward.

One says: "Strong swimmers wanted" and another encourages volunteers with "Whatever your shape and size, couples need your help".

The number of new sperm donors dipped in the UK in 2004 to 224. The law changed in 2005, meaning egg and sperm donors did not have the right to anonymity.

But since then the number of new donors has increased with 384 registering in 2008.

The children of donors can trace their biological parents when they reach 18.

Donors are not paid, but can claim expenses.

Laura Witjens, chairwoman of the National Gamete Donation Trust, said: "In the UK there are hundreds of couples who need a sperm donor to help them conceive the child they long for so much, either because of infertility or genetic disease.

"These couples rely on men stepping forward as sperm donors."

In the latest figures from 2006, there were 5,000 cycles of fertility treatment in the UK which used donor sperm.

Pride Angel parenting website connection service aims as helping lesbian couples, single women and infertile couples achieve parenthood. Sperm donors and co-parents are able to donate directly to the woman or couple of their choice.

Members communicate safely by means of an internal messaging system to find their suitable match. Pride Angel also provides information on health screening, artificial insemination and legal rights with fertility law specialists giving advice through the Pride Angel Forum.

Read more about helping women and donating sperm directly at www.prideangel.com

Women are ready for motherhood at 14, claims a leading author. What dangerous nonsense, says this former teenage mum.

Watching my daughter Olivia and her friends preparing to celebrate her 15th birthday last week, the bathroom awash with false lashes and lip glosses, I couldn't help but smile. I'm thrilled to see her so happy and carefree.

But, as I watched Olivia and her friends giggling about boys and swapping make-up tips, I realised with a tinge of regret that this was an experience I had never had.

Olivia's main worry is finding enough money to buy a new top for Saturday night. At her age, I had totally different priorities. I was busy preparing to have a baby - Olivia.

Now, 31, when I could still be dreaming about babies on the far horizon, I find myself the mother of a teenager. Looking at my little girl suddenly brought with it a searing sense of loss over my own interrupted youth. There is no way Olivia could deal with becoming a parent right now. So how on earth did I manage it? And, much as I adore my daughter, what would life have held in store for me if motherhood hadn't kidnapped me so soon?

Booker Prize-winning novelist Hilary Mantel said recently she is convinced she would have been 'perfectly capable' of being a mother and running a home at the age of 14.

She went on to say that 'having sex and having babies is what young women are about, and their instincts are suppressed in the interests of society's timetable'

All I can say is she has clearly never tried it. Yes, I was capable of being a mother. But there is a vast gulf between being a capable mum and a good mum.

Olivia is a confident, well-rounded A-grade student. Proudly watching my daughter take her first tentative steps into womanhood, I know I succeeded. But it wasn't without huge heartache.

And now, at 31, I can see only too clearly just how tough it was and how many mistakes I made through childish ignorance. I was never short of love for Olivia, but my age meant I lacked so many other maternal attributes.

I'd been dating my boyfriend, who was four years older, for more than two years when we discovered I was pregnant. I was 16 and he was 20, my first love.

I'd visited my GP to get the Pill at 15. But, when she prescribed antibiotics for a minor ailment, she failed to warn me that they might affect the Pill. And I was too young and inexperienced to ask.

I was already four months' pregnant when the nurse at the family planning clinic broke the news to me - and, thankfully, to my mother.

Mum, a teacher, had taken me to the clinic because I'd missed three periods and had been feeling under the weather. I had seen my GP, who assured me repeatedly I had a stomach condition that could also cause my periods to stop. But Mum had a sixth sense and requested a pregnancy test.

I will never forget the panicked look on her face when we learned it was positive. Now, as a mother myself, I understand it. How was her baby going to cope? At the time, I was offended. I imagined myself grown up. But now I can see that's what I was - a baby.

My reaction was one of stunned shock. I felt numb. Most women have trouble grasping how irrevocably becoming a parent will change their lives. As a teenager, I didn't stand a chance. I also felt incredibly ashamed that I had let everybody down.

Read more: www.dailymail.co.uk

Legislation has effectively dismissed the contribution of half the population to the upbringing of the next generation, says Ruth Deech, the chairman of the Bar Standards Board.

Over the last half a century there has been a sea change in society’s attitude towards same-sex relationships, marriage and the family. Homosexuality has moved from criminal status to legalisation, from legalisation to acceptance and the same respectfulness as heterosexual relationships. We have now reached the stage where, in the event of an election victory, the Conservative leader has promised that civil partners will benefit from extended paternity and maternity leave (in the case of adoption or artificial insemination babies). David Cameron has also promised that proposals to extend flexible working and married couples’ tax breaks would be granted as well. He has stated that the party is no longer hostile to same sex couples.

While changes to the law which have given homosexual couples the same rights and responsibilities as heterosexual couples are welcome, there are two issues involving modern society’s attitude towards children which give me unease.

One is the new possibility of birth certificates for children born to couples of the same sex, which name two persons of the same sex as their parents. This is logical following on the extension of rights to same sex couples, but there is an issue of principle here, which is the truth. Sections of the 2008 Human Fertilisation and Embryology Act (HFEA) even allow a dead woman, never known to the baby and not related, to be named with her previous consent on the birth certificate by the choice of the birth mother, while preventing the child from having a father. Birth registration is about genetic inheritance (albeit that sometimes the truth is not told) and about the welfare of the child, not about the relationship, legal or otherwise, between the adults whose will gave rise to it. The birth certificate that names two female parents will disclose to anyone perusing it that the child was necessarily born from donor sperm or a donor embryo or a surrogate mother. It could even result in deception to exclude the natural father where the mother conceived naturally but uses this provision to cut him out of the child’s life.

There are other ways for two adults of the same sex to gain parental responsibility over a baby, and it should not have to be through the birth certificate. It puts the demands of the adults ahead of the rights of children to know and benefit from both sides of their genetic makeup. It sits uneasily with the ending of donor anonymity in reproduction generally, and for the call for mothers to name fathers on birth certificates. This is not a moral issue; it is about disguising true facts, and it is about confusing biological parenthood with legal and social parenthood. Civil partnerships do still differ from marriage a little, and this is an area where the difference ought to be preserved with justification.

The other area of regret for me is the removal from the law of the provision in the 2000 HFEA that when a doctor is considering whether or not to give infertility treatment to a woman, he or she had to consider the welfare of the potential baby, “including the child’s need for a father.” It was removed on the ground that it was discriminatory against single mothers and lesbians, and replaced by the need to check for “supportive parenting”, whatever that may mean. Reproductive services are in fact quite readily available to single women, and it is thought that about 25 per cent of lesbian couples have children. I regret the downgrading of the father as a person of importance – the legislative dismissal of the contribution of half the population to the upbringing of the next generation. The removal of the requirement to consider the need for a father is to make a fresh statement that the child does not need a father, no matter how liberally the old law’s requirement was interpreted. It sends a message to men, at a time when many of them feel undermined as providers and parents, contrary to government policy in this field.

Read more: www.telegraph.co.uk

Do you ever wonder what mother’s day is like in a house with two mums?

In a home with lesbian parents raising children, the emphasis is on Mother’s day being about ‘Mothers’ or parents rather than on an individual.

Mother’s day in a house with two mums can be an extra special event. The only challenge however, is that when you are celebrating both of your mums on the same day, then mother’s day doesn’t actually celebrate either parent as an individual. Instead of being about one parent it is about both parents which makes it more of a family day.

Other challenges which differ in a house with two mums include: which adult does the organising if the children aren’t old enough themselves? How do you make sure both parents feel equally important? How does special attention between parents get divided? For example who makes breakfast in bed if the children aren’t old enough to do it by themselves?

In Erika and Karen’s house their daughter who is now 10 years old, delights in making special handmade gifts and individual mother’s day cards for both of them, and rushes into their bedroom in the morning, so not much of a lie in can be had!

Erika often chooses to help their daughter make breakfast in bed for Karen (biological mum). However Karen is always sure to give Erika (jokingly called ‘mum number 1’) her 'special time' which she has already requested to be a foot massage on mother’s day evening.

Erika said ‘Overall our mother’s day is all about having a relaxing family day together, visiting grandparents , having a walk on the beach, an ice cream and enjoying a watching a film together in the evening’ .

‘Gifts aren’t really necessary, all that’s needed is to show each other how much we are both valued and appreciated as parents’ added Karen.

We at Pride Angel wish all mums a very happy mother’s day and for all those hoping to become mums in the near future we wish you much happiness in your journey to become parents.

Read more about looking for a sperm donor

Pride Angel

Eating breakfast and fatty diet during early pregnancy increases chances of having a boy

What women eat while they are in the early stages of pregnancy influences the sex and health of their unborn baby, new research suggests.

Women who eat a full breakfast and a high fat diet at the time of conception are more likely to have a boy, scientists claim.

A low fat diet with periods of long fasts favours girls, the researchers have found.

The findings seem to give some credence to to old wives' tales such as eat "bacon for boys".

Dr Cheryl Rosenfeld, of the University of Missouri, and colleagues said: "High calorie diets generally favour birth of males over females, whereas low calorie diets tend to favour females over males.

"In humans and mice, food restriction and a suboptimal diet during the period around conception and early pregnancy also lead to a surfeit of daughters, most probably due to selective loss of male foetuses, the most vulnerable sex in the womb."

Researchers analysed the genes in placentas of pregnant mice fed diets high in fat or carbohydrates and low calorie diets and found each one had a distinctive effect compared with a third group given normal soybean meal-based food.

As well as the changes in sex, female foetuses were more sensitive to their mother's diet and their genes were more likely to be affected or altered, it was found.

After 12 days – just over half the animals' pregnancy term – there were differences in almost 2,000 genes including those involved in kidney function and smell.

They concluded gene expression in the mouse placenta is "adaptive and shaped by maternal diet" with the biggest effect on the placentas of females.

The research, published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, follows a study two years ago that found a woman's diet around the time of conception may influence the gender of her baby.

A high-calorie diet at this time – and regular breakfasts – might increase the odds of a boy while women with a lower energy intake were likelier to give birth to a girl.

The research shows a higher calorie intake around the time of conception can shift the odds of having a son from ten to 11 boys in every 20 births.

Sons and daughters are also at different risk for diseases later in life, apparently related to either the mother's diet or body condition while pregnant.

For instance, sons of obese mothers are more likely than daughters to become obese and develop diabetes as they get older, even though no differences in birth weight may be evident.

The researchers added: "The reason why a maternal high fat, low carbohydrate diet favours survival of sons and a maternal low fat, high carbohydrate diet results in more daughters continues to elude us.

"The effect was such that the more women ate the more likely she was to have a boy.

"Women who had sons were also more likely to have eaten a higher quantity and wider range of nutrients including potassium, calcium and vitamins C, E and B12. They were also more likely to have eaten breakfast cereals."

There has been a small but consistent decline of about one per 1,000 births annually in the proportion of boys being born in industrialised countries, including the UK, over the last 40 years.

It could be because women have been consuming low fat foods and skipping breakfast, among other things.

Article from www.telegraph.co.uk

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