Sunday, June 22,
2003 (San
Francisco Chronicle Magazine)
Who's the Real Mom?/The law lags in custody battles
between lesbians
Patricia R. Olsen
All Lisa
Tortoriello (not her real name) wants is to be a mother
to the 7-year-old twins she created with her partner.
But like many lesbians whose relationships have ended,
Lisa, a Bay Area resident, finds herself in legal
never-never land. Her complicated case, which is winding
its way through the California courts, has at its heart
the "best interests of the children." The ultimate
outcome may have far-ranging repercussions for all
lesbian couples considering parenthood.
Lisa's heart was
broken twice. Her partner moved out of state two years
ago - supposedly to care for an ailing parent for a
short time, Lisa says - and she took the twins with her.
Once there, however, she ended the relationship,
apparently wanting the girls all to herself. (Lisa's
partner declined to be interviewed for this story.) Now
Lisa sees the girls only once every six or eight weeks
by means of an informal agreement that the women's
lawyers have reached. It is not lost on Lisa that in a
divorce, a parent who shares custody cannot easily leave
the state with the children. But that is part of the
problem - because the two women were not married when
the twins were born, Lisa must fight to be recognized as
a legal parent, even though one bioethicist says Lisa is
as genetically linked to the little girls as the birth
mother is.
In California, a
legal mother can be a woman biologically linked to the
child by either genetics or gestation, so it might
appear that Lisa has no problem. However, Lisa's
partner, Judy, (also not her real name) started with the
advantage in court as the woman who gave birth and the
one listed as the mother on the birth certificates.
Before Lisa can argue in court for anything relating to
the girls, like custody, she has to be granted "legal
parent" status.
Dr. Arthur Caplan,
chairman of the Department of Medical Ethics at the
University of Pennsylvania, points out how science and
the law can differ. In Anglo-American law, he notes, the
woman who gives birth is traditionally recognized as the
child's mother. But biologically, the woman who supplies
the genome - the genetic material - is the mother, he
said. By extension, he adds, if two women donate genetic
material, then either or both can be the biological
mother.
Lisa's lawyer, Jill Hersh, of
Hersh Family Law in San Francisco, says that this case
differs markedly from those involving lesbians who
adopted children and later split up, or cases where only
one partner either provided the eggs or gave birth.
According to Lisa and her lawyer, there are two legal
mothers in this case, and it is time the law reflected
such societal changes. To complicate matters further,
the highly charged issue of two mothers is not the only
legal issue in this case.
As head of a local nonprofit
organization, Lisa, 41, ably manages a $4.8 million
budget. She moves easily between take-charge mode and
gentle persuasion, depending on what fits the
fund-raising need. But ask her how the court case,
already in its second year, has been and she crumbles.
It takes a minute before she can talk at all. "Some days
it's hard to even move, but I know it's just for a short
time and the next day I'll be better. I have two little
girls that I'll fight for for the rest of my life," she
says.
In 1993, after a brief earlier
relationship, Lisa and Judy became serious. They moved
in together in 1994 and shortly thereafter decided they
wanted to have children together. Lisa was facing
imminent uterine surgery for fibroid tumors that she
knew could result in the loss of her reproductive
ability, and Judy was diagnosed with eggs that were
incompetent to achieve a pregnancy. Their gynecologists
were in the same medical practice, and one of them
suggested what seemed like the perfect solution: Lisa
would provide the eggs, which would be fertilized with
sperm from an anonymous donor, and Judy would carry the
embryos.In April 1995, multiple fertilized ovum were
implanted in Judy's uterus, and in December she gave
birth to healthy twin girls, each about 4 1/2
pounds.
Lisa, who before being
interviewed for this article had just packed the girls'
remaining personal things in preparation for selling the
house they shared, breaks down again when talking about
the girls' birth. "We were ecstatic," she said, "like
any two people who finally have the children they've
worked so hard to have."
She recalls her role in the
girls' lives: She was in the operating room when they
were born, and she was the one who carried them to the
hospital nursery. After the two women brought the twins
home, she was the one who rocked them to sleep, got up
with them in the middle of the night, gave them their
bath, read to them. "I took them with me everywhere,"
Lisa said.
But while the girls thrived,
Judy and Lisa's relationship did not. During one
argument, Judy threatened Lisa with a hidden weapon -
the ovum donor consent form Lisa had signed at the
fertility clinic where the in vitro fertilization (IVF)
was performed. Lisa hadn't thought anything of it when
the receptionist handed her a clipboard with the
clinic's standard forms to be signed; this was simply a
step to be completed preparing for IVF. But along with
asking for the patient's informed consent and medical
history was language advising egg donors that by
affixing their signature, they were giving up rights as
a parent to any children that were born as a result of
using their eggs. When Judy brought this up during the
argument, Lisa recalls, she talked as if it gave her
carte blanche to make all decisions about the girls.
That form, which Lisa barely remembered, would come back
to haunt her.
In the summer of 2001, after
Judy left, Lisa called the girls every day and flew to
see them every month for 10 days. She thought she and
her partner might work things out. They tried
counseling, but their relationship only deteriorated
further, and they both sought legal help
over contact with the girls, among other things.
Lisa decided she'd had enough.
No way was she going to take being separated from the
twins like this sitting down. In October 2001, the
distraught executive hired Hersh to help her fight to
maintain her relationship with her daughters. Hersh
filed suit before Judy reached the six-month residency
requirement in her new state, so that the case could be
tried on Lisa's turf instead of Judy's. A year later
they went to court.
With its sky-blue arched roof
and sand-colored exterior, the Bay Area courthouse
nestles peacefully against its surroundings. But for
four days in October 2002, the atmosphere in the
courtroom was anything but peaceful for Hersh's client.
"I remember getting dressed for the trial," Lisa said.
"My sister had stayed with me the night before, and I
walked downstairs and said, "I don't think I'm going to
make it.' I hadn't eaten much of anything in two or
three weeks except for Reese's peanut butter cups and
water."
"To have your entire life put
out there and have one person determine your fate and
your children's fate - it's indescribable," Lisa said.
"There is nothing like that experience. You pray that
the judge will do what's right." She credits Hersh for
keeping her spirits up, for "saying and doing exactly
the right thing."
Hersh hoped to establish a legal
precedent. "The law has not kept pace with our changing
definition of what makes a family, so that
nontraditional families do not enjoy the same legal
rights and protection as traditional families. When
traditional parents divorce, their children are assured
that both parents can argue in court for parental
rights. Children of nontraditional families do not
receive equal protection - as do children of traditional
relationships - of their same right to an enduring,
established, social, psychological and stable
parent-child relationship.
The lawyer argued that Lisa is
just as much a parent to the girls as the birth mother,
and by only recognizing Judy as a legal parent, current
law is penalizing Lisa for her nontraditional
relationship. California law recognizes nonbiological
fathers as legal fathers under section 7611(d) of the
Family Code, and recent case law has declared that this
statue is equally applicable to women. The legal
framework is there to declare her a legal parent, the
attorney says, and she believes that this case is even
more compelling than those that have come before. "It's
time the law was updated to recognize Lisa's rights and
the children's rights to their parent-child relationship
with her," Hersh said.
In addition, Hersh argued about
the legality of the ovum donor form that Lisa signed. In
legal terms, the form that she signed is an "adhesion"
contract, a prerequisite for receiving medical
treatment. Because she and her partner agreed that each
would contribute genetic material to create a child,
Lisa was no ordinary egg donor, Hersh argued. By having
to sign a form really meant for anonymous egg donors or
strangers in order to obtain treatment, her client was
placed in an unequal bargaining position.
And finally, the lawyer focused
on how current law affects the children. For more than
five years, Lisa and the girls lived as part of a
family, and that bond shouldn't be cast asunder because
of outdated law, she said. The twins have a right to
have a continuing relationship with Lisa, and for this
to happen fairly, Lisa must be able to argue as a parent
in court. Hersh continued to argue that there are two
legal mothers, not one.
Hersh, 50, cares deeply about
this case. She has represented both traditional and
nontraditional families in her 25-year career in family
law (primarily matrimonial law) and has seen her share
of complex cases. The litigator, who is married with
three children, has a special interest in working to see
that family law reflects changes in society at large. In
particular, she hopes to advance the civil rights of
same-gender couples and their children.
She also has sat as judge pro
tempore in the San Francisco court system during judges'
vacations, and briefly served as technical adviser to
the television show "Judging Amy." Hersh also has been
an adjunct professor of community property law at
Hastings College of the Law, and an instructional
speaker in areas of family law to lawyers, accountants
and mental health professionals.
In December 2002, Lisa and her
attorney spent another day in court and then waited for
the judge's decision. When it came, it wasn't the one
they were hoping for. The judge did not grant Lisa legal
parent status, based on the fact that Judy was the birth
mother, and that Lisa had signed the form giving up
parental rights when she donated her eggs. Although Lisa
was devastated, Hersh was not surprised, having expected
the matter to be decided by a higher court. She
immediately began preparing an appeal. The attorney will
take the case to the state Supreme Court, if need be,
she said.
Lisa, too, is gearing up to
continue the fight. Talking about the girls seems to
give her comfort. She describes how the two women's
extended family and wide circle of friends had been
involved in the girls' lives. "One of the girls is the
spitting image of me," she says. "Everyone says so.
People ask me,
"How did you manage it so that
she looks only like you?' " she adds, with a laugh. "The
other one, whose hair is curly, looks like my brother.
One has the quieter, gentler side of me and the other
has my adventurous side." Then Lisa is quiet again. "You
learn that the law is such a blunt instrument," she
finishes.
The Pennsylvania bioethicist is
on Lisa's side all the way. "I can short-circuit this [argument] by saying biology doesn't matter
at this stage,"
Dr. Caplan said. "After seven years of raising children
together, they're
both a social parent; both women have rights." Who
delivered the baby and
who contributed the eggs, he reasoned, is far less
relevant than the bond
that has formed between the parents and the babies over
the years.
Caplan continued: "I would argue the same way I would
in an adoption." The
judge should handle this as what's in the best interests
of the children.
If one parent isn't able to raise the children, or is a
danger to them,
that's one thing; otherwise I would split the custody,
as with married
heterosexuals. I would tell a parent wanting to leave
the area that she
couldn't, that they have to share and not make the
twins' lives miserable.
I know people want to jump to birth mother versus eggs,
but at 7, that's
really of little interest."
When asked how he would respond to naysayers, Caplan
repeated Hersh's
argument: "The dominant ethical principle here is the
best interests of
the children. If I'm the judge, it doesn't mean anything
to me who's
married, if a woman is gay, if gay women have parental
rights. Have they
bonded, have both women been there and raised the
children, was one
negligent, was one not around much - [those] are the
morally relevant
facts."
He said these tenets are age-old. They've worked
fairly well, and the
courts should continue to follow them. "Again," the
bioethicist stressed,
"the principle to be followed is not biology. Whether
it's the eggs or the
uterus, which one counts more matters less and less the
older the children
get. At age 7, when the kids have relationships with
both women, the rest
of the discussion has to be put aside." And, the
bioethicist tells us,
"keep in mind that the technology is coming to permit
uterus or ovary
transplants. This will put the notion of birth mother on
even weaker
footing biologically."
The case has legal implications not only for
California law, but for the
entire country. For instance, in deciding similar cases,
courts refer to
cases from other states for guidance. Also, Hersh says,
advances in the
law in one jurisdiction create a momentum for change
elsewhere and can
galvanize progress in other courts. It is easier to
bring down the
barriers to civil rights from state to state if courts
in other jurisdictions have removed the obstacles.
For now the lawyers for both sides are continuing
with the informal
visitation agreement. When Judy first left, Lisa called
the girls twice a
day from California. Then, Lisa says, Judy began
limiting Lisa's phone
calls to three times a week, then twice a week, and
finally to once a
week. At present, Lisa is allowed to call them on
Wednesdays at 3:30 p.m.,
but the phone just rings and rings, she said.
Initially, she could visit one weekend a month. She
hates seeing them only
one weekend every six or eight weeks. When she visits,
she tries to take
them away for a "fun" weekend when they don't have to
attend a sports
activity or another function. Once they traveled to
Rockport, Mass., and
for the girls' birthday they saw "Beauty and the Beast"
on Broadway in New
York City. One twin likes Chinese food and the other
likes Mexican, Lisa
said, so they're always "scoping out restaurants." Lisa
looks for hotels
with indoor pools because the girls like to swim, and,
she was quick to
add, both of them like room service.
"The judge told me that in loving my ex-partner, I
was overly optimistic
about the relationship lasting forever," she said, and
you can't help but
notice the sadness in her voice. She's not sure how she
feels about the
future other than that she can't allow herself to lose
hope. Sometimes
Lisa wonders about her endurance. "I don't want to feel
like this anymore," she said. "But I have no choice
because I have to fight for my
children, and as a parent, I have to show the girls that
they have to be
able to fight for what is right and what they dream of."
Ever protective
of the girls' privacy, she will not reveal what the
girls say about the
separation.
Finally, she is reflective. "I was very good to her,"
she says, speaking
of her ex-partner. "I'm a good partner, and at some
point I hope I'll have
someone special in my life again. But right now my trust
level is É" She
lets her thought trail off.
"Lisa is one of the kindest, nicest people I've ever
met," Hersh says of
her client. "She doesn't deserve this." The attorney is
optimistic about
the outcome of the appeal. "The legal environment in
California is primed
to take this next step forward in developing law in this
area," she says.
What she doesn't say, but what is at the forefront of
her mind, is that
two beautiful, brunette 7-year-olds - and one California
woman - are
anxiously awaiting the final decision.