Journey to Same-Sex Parenthood

by Eric Rosswood

  The first couple of attempts were a bust and then there were some scheduling conflicts on the date of the third. Daisy called us early in the day and offered to reschedule due to these conflicts, but admitted she felt an indescribable sense that this time could be it. The mix of excitement and trepidation was clearly coming through in her voice. So we stuck with the plan and got together that night. There was definitely a vibe in the air. We all felt it. A few days later, Daisy said she felt as if her insides were being “renovated.” In February 2006, the pregnancy strips told us we were with child.

  Wow. I guess we are really doing this.

  Immediately after confirming the pregnancy, Daisy signed us up for parenting and birthing classes offered through her insurance carrier. The classes covered everything from how the fetus develops, to breathing exercises during labor, to how to change diapers. No joke, these classes should be required for anyone planning to have children. If people have to study and practice to drive a car, then it should also be mandatory for raising future adults.

  Daisy and Dustin both began doing heavy research into all aspects of parenting with various parenting books that were snatched up or given to us by friends and family. We attended the two sonogram appointments and saw the progression of our pending baby’s development from the size of a kidney bean to the size of a potato. We were becoming the proud parents of a food item!

  It had long been decided that we didn’t want to learn the baby’s sex before the birth. That certainly made it difficult for others to purchase advance gifts and we had to awkwardly refer to our child as “it” throughout the pregnancy. Added to the suspense was not knowing our baby’s name. One of our earliest decisions was to have Daisy pick the first and middle names, selecting from her parents’ and grandparents’ names, whether we had a boy or a girl.

  The last name was up to Dustin and me and we kicked around a couple of options. The first idea was simply hyphenating our last names. We also considered combining our last names and then possibly even changing our own to have the same last name as our kids. Friends had done this before and we saw that it worked for them. Dustin and I tried various combinations of the letters in our last names and came up with Delpar, Pardel, Delparney, Parlane and Delparish. Nothing was clicking. Then we combined the first three letters of my last name with the last three letters of Dustin’s last name and struck gold—Delish! Imagine us introducing ourselves at parties, “Hi! We’re the Delishes!”

  In spite of the enthusiasm expressed by certain friends for “Delish,” we ultimately went back to option number one: hyphenating our names for the kids and keeping our own last names.

  Meanwhile, the baby research and preparation continued. We all went shopping to look at baby gear such as strollers, changing tables and car seats. More classes were taken and more legal legwork was done. Things were moving along as the excitement and anticipation built up. But for one of us, so did the apprehension and dread.

  My nagging doubts about this whole endeavor hadn’t completely subsided. The more that Daisy’s belly expanded, the more real this whole thing became. There was now a very real possibility of all my worst fears coming true: I wasn’t going to be a competent father for this person being brought into the world and the cycle that began with my father’s parents and probably even prior was now going to continue with me—parents having kids they weren’t capable of properly raising. Yes, he or she might have three other devoted parents, but it still didn’t change the fact that one of them—and one of the biological ones, no less—probably wasn’t up to it.

  Since I have a penchant for over-thinking things, I figured that coming clean to Dustin would be the best way for me to purge those remaining doubts. It’s usually all that’s needed to do the trick. So about three months ahead of the baby’s due date, I brought it up to him. Oh boy. Never had one of our heart-to-hearts devolved so quickly or become so heated. Within the first few sentences, Dustin asked if I was afraid I might resent him for our having kids. In a calm, non-accusatory way, I replied, “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.” In seconds, he was almost out the door while saying I could just leave now and that the rest of them would continue on without me. Yeesh!

  Luckily, he didn’t leave and we continued talking, but he was being very dismissive. He thought I should just get over it, because the baby was already coming. As we continued to talk, I found resentment building up. It suddenly dawned on me that there had been almost no acknowledgment during this whole process of my willingness to compromise to accommodate his dreams. He’s the one who wanted kids and it was about to happen only because I agreed to it. Now I was the one pissed off. I let him know that he could at least express some gratitude. I certainly didn’t need to be berated for expressing my very valid concerns.

  As I mentioned earlier, one of Dustin’s most positive attributes is his tenacity. However, that sometimes crosses into tunnel vision when he gets caught up in the process of working toward his goals. So he had lost sight of the fact that at one time I was pretty clear in my fears about parenthood. But he’s also one of the sweetest, kindest men you could know. Now that I was finally speaking up and once the initial heat of the moment cooled down, he did take the time to understand my concerns and express his gratitude. Then I realized that his meteoric reaction to my revelations stemmed from his own anxieties.

  Things calmed down and we were in good shape when I left town a couple of days later to visit family back East. Thanks to that discussion and my trip, my head was clear by the time I returned a week later. My emotions were now in line with the rest of the parental entourage—excitement and nervous anticipation.

  The due date was October 25th and, as the day approached, Daisy definitely looked like she was ready to pop at any moment. Each day at work, Dustin and I felt this build-up of excitement, hoping that the latest ringing of the phone was Daisy calling to let us know that she was in labor. October 25th came and went. Then Halloween arrived and still no kid. The doctor decided that if it didn’t come out on its own, they were going to induce. The baby was getting pretty big and could prove a risk to itself or Daisy if it were to get much bigger.

  Sure enough, no baby came, so we all checked into the hospital a couple of weeks past the due date. All four members of the parental entourage as well as Daisy’s mom were in the delivery room. Daisy had told her mom long before that everyone planned to be there for the delivery and that she was welcome as well. Her mom was a traditional woman. In her day, it was just the mother and medical staff while the father and any others stayed in the waiting room or at home. But she didn’t push the matter and chose to be there with us. For much of the initial few hours, she had her face buried in a newspaper as the rest of us were peeking during the exams and asking all sorts of questions. We did catch her curiously peeking around the paper on several occasions, though. Having her there proved to be a tremendous bonding experience, bringing us all closer as we experienced that wonderful night together.

  After some poking, prodding and testing, Daisy was given a stimulant to kick-start the labor. Then it was just a matter of waiting. The time ticked away as we talked, read, napped and took turns getting food. Nothing seemed to be happening. The dilatation was minimal even several hours later. It wasn’t until after dark that the labor pains began. Daisy was hoping for a meds-free birth and held out for a few hours before finally asking for an epidural, which was administered around midnight. We all slept on and off for the next few hours before Daisy announced that it was time. The nurse was called in, followed by the doctor. Then things really took off.

  In short order, the room was filled with several nurses, an attending pediatrician and a resident in training. Daisy’s mom stayed at the head of the bed holding her hand, Dustin was propping up her left leg and Daisy’s partner and I took turns holding the right leg. It took a while, but then the doctor mentioned seeing the head coming through. To me, it just looked like some grayish-purple internal organ peeking out. Watching the birth was alternatively exc
iting, emotional and nauseating.

  After what seemed like hours and starting to think the doctor might call for a C-section, the baby suddenly slipped out. The first thing that struck me was the eyes. They were wide open and already looking around, as if thinking, Whoa! This is new.

  Dustin said “It’s a boy,” one second before the doctor proclaimed, “It’s a girl.” Dustin thinks it was probably the umbilical cord that confused him. The baby was whisked away to the incubator for clean-up and within seconds, she was letting out the sweetest little cry. Her bottom lip quivered when she did. Whatever doubts I might have had earlier about having kids were instantly gone. Imagine that.

  As our baby Teresa lay in the incubator, Dustin and I leaned over her while she held my finger, the whole time staring right into our eyes. To this day, her eyes are still her most striking feature. They are beautifully shaped and the color is a random combination of her mother’s blue eyes and my hazel. The result is a kaleidoscopic hue of gold, green, blue and brown. They are also highly expressive and penetrating. Over the years, she’s proven to be uncannily perceptive, picking up on people’s slightest expressions and shifts in tone of voice.

  In addition to learning how to keep an infant alive and unharmed, the next few months were spent establishing a routine for our shared custody. It was pretty simple initially, since we already had determined that the baby was going to live with Daisy full-time for the first year while breastfeeding. As she was weaned, she could start spending nights at our home. The original plan was to begin one night with the dads, then two nights and then eventually alternating one full week at each home. But now that she was born, was that really an ideal schedule?

  We decided to enlist the help of a child psychologist who specialized in shared custody cases. The most important aspect of shared custody is what is best for the child. Sure, we might have issues with a certain schedule, but we’re the adults and should be able to handle it if the schedule doesn’t fit our wants. If it’s possible a certain schedule is harmful to the child’s development, then that takes precedence over our convenience.

  Thanks to the counselor, we learned that in the early years it’s actually good to go with shorter splits, since the baby will still be bonding with everyone. And even though we could all see her every day, there are benefits of actually going to sleep and waking up in each home without too many days in between. As kids get older, then longer durations at each home are best.

  But probably the most important thing we learned—and the biggest relief—is that growing up in two homes or having four parents is not inherently harmful. Children adapt easily to their routines. Our child was going to grow up with two homes and several parents from the start, so she wouldn’t think anything of it. The important factor is that we provide structure and stability within the routines we create. The dads have to be consistent within their home, the moms in theirs and all four when we spend time together. Not that there weren’t plenty of other ways for us to screw up our kids, but at least our alternative approach to child-rearing was not a danger.

  There were times when this now-living, breathing result of all our planning stirred up unexpected emotions. At times we all felt overly protective, jealous, inadequate or dejected. I can understand why a new child might cause a strain in relationships. Everyone is competing for the affections of a being who can’t even control its own bowels, let alone assure us that we’re all important to her. It’s easy to understand how emotions could escalate so that one parent sees another as a threat to his or her ability to forge the strongest possible bond with a new baby.

  Fortunately, the key factor in the success of our family has been the temperaments of all involved. We’re a pretty chill group with no outright control freaks or drama queens. We kept our emotions in check and it didn’t take long to settle into a routine that reassured us that no one was going to grab the baby and run for the border.

  The remainder of the year went by uneventfully. Dustin and I each took some paternity leave from our jobs to spend a few quality weeks with Teresa. Our shared custody schedule eventually settled into the one suggested by our counselor, basically alternating nights at each home.

  Then Teresa began daycare. We found the perfect place, both in terms of location and quality. Just a few blocks from our house, a young and recently certified childcare provider was starting up her own daycare business. This was the time when Teresa began interacting with children outside of our own circle of friends. That meant her new friends were going to be exposed to an alternative family for possibly the first time. We wondered how their parents might feel about that. Being in San Jose, it has never been that much of a concern for us. If someone chooses to live in this city, they know to expect diverse cultures and ways of life.

  As expected, our four-way, same-sex-couples parenting was a non-issue in the negative sense, but still of great interest. When meeting other parents and explaining how our family works, the reactions tended to be ones of envy above anything else. It seems that many parents love the idea of spreading responsibilities among four adults instead of one or two. Not exactly a major revelation.

  But that’s San Jose. In the summer of 2008 it was time for all of us to take our first long trip together to the annual reunion of Dustin’s family in Indiana. The entire region is flat for miles in all directions. Small clusters of homes are separated by endless acres of empty fields and farms growing corn and soybeans. We were definitely not in San Jose anymore.

  I had already made it to a reunion a few years earlier and I was readily accepted by the extended family without a second thought. Teresa and the baby mamas received an equally warm welcome from the gathering of sixty-plus family members. There was no tension, cold shoulders or veiled expressions of disapproval. If anyone actually did disapprove, we felt none of it.

  Teresa’s first trip to meet her extended family was a success on another important level: It was the first time we all travelled together across the country. Our dynamics at home adapted well to the road and we all remained calm and collected under pressure. It was the first of several trips over the coming years and, knock on wood, all of them have gone smoothly.

  Our next milestone came later in 2008 when, after two previous weddings that were purely symbolic, we were finally legally married at San Jose City Hall. Third time’s the charm! Teresa was very excited to be our flower girl and Dustin was holding her in his arms as we said our vows. A month later, she turned two.

  As 2009 kicked off, we got around to planning for Teresa’s little brother or sister. This time it only took two attempts to conceive. In December 2009, Teresa’s sister, Frances, also proved unwilling to make her entry into the world. Once again, the birth needed to be induced two weeks past the due date.

  We returned to the child counselor shortly after Frances’s birth to perform a status check and were given a positive review. It was a relief to know that we were still on the right track. And having already kept child number one alive for three years now, we were far more confident with number two. In fact, we sometimes felt guilty over how lax we were when compared to the hyper-cautious approach we took with Teresa. Frances didn’t receive the same level of germ prevention or safety procedures. In other words, she was treated like most second children.

  As her personality has emerged, it’s probably just as well that Frances didn’t have us doting on her too heavily. She is supremely independent and more than happy to be left alone to entertain herself. She loves to play with her sister when it suits her, but when she wants her alone time, her imagination is company enough. And the way that imagination works, the humor and expressions, it just cracks me up. I often say that my head might explode from her cuteness.

  As of this writing, Frances is four and Teresa is seven. Both take swimming classes once a week and Teresa has played both soccer and basketball as part of her school’s team. Teresa attends a Catholic School where her gay parents are a non-issue. It’s not even an issue that three of her four parents aren
’t even Catholic; Daisy is the only one. The school fosters a tight-knit community and is welcoming to all. Frances is in the same nursery school that Teresa attended previously and will eventually join her big sister at the same Catholic school. The girls are often the envy of their classmates for having so many parents. The look of wonder on their faces when they meet Teresa or Frances’s “other” mom or dad is the sweetest thing.

  Our current shared-custody schedule is that the girls spend all Mondays and Tuesdays with the dads and all Wednesdays and Thursdays with the moms. Then we alternate on Fridays through Sundays. This is a common schedule used by divorced parents, according to the child counselor. One of our friends used it successfully with his own son, so we even had a real-world example to go by. However, we also spend a lot of time together as a whole family, regardless of which home the girls will be sleeping at on a given night.

  From the very beginning, our agreement was that all major holidays—Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter—were to be spent together, as well as birthdays. We also take an annual vacation together and smaller weekend getaways. We all participate in school activities and attend sporting events. Other than the separate homes, the girls see their parents as a united front, collectively focused on their well-being. They know we are one family.

  A common question we receive is who are the parents under the law and how are the other parents covered legally? For the moms, it is pretty straightforward: Daisy is the full legal parent and her name is on the birth certificate. Meanwhile, her partner has legal documents for guardianship and to act as healthcare proxy.