Journey to Same-Sex Parenthood

by Eric Rosswood

  Eventually, I picked up on some hints that Dawn and Helen were not getting on as well as they used to. Dawn could be snappy and often rude to Helen, who was always friendlier and more accepting of me. Sometimes I assumed that was the cause of the shift I now saw in their relationship.

  But Alison and I loved being together. We talked and talked and sang and sang. We were never quiet. Getting used to early mornings was a trial for me. There were a few times when it got to 6:00 P.M. and I realized I had forgotten to eat, because we were having so much fun that I lost track of time. Her mothers often collected her at 6:00 P.M. and then I was in bed for a snooze within minutes!

  I was a relatively self-conscious man and wondered if I could loosen up enough to walk through a mall while baby talking and cooing into the pushchair. But I could. I wanted Alison to be happy and did many things that made me look rather dumb in order to make her laugh or to soothe her and I never cared what anyone else thought.

  One day, when Alison was about two and a half, I went to collect her from her home. Dawn was a little anxious and asked me if I had heard from Helen. I told her I hadn’t and took Alison out. When I returned, Dawn asked to talk with me. She and Helen had been arguing the previous morning. They had decided the relationship wasn’t working and, within the argument, agreed to split. Helen had left, hadn’t shown up at work and wasn’t answering her phone. Dawn was worried. She called Helen’s parents, but they hadn’t heard from her either. Neither had Helen’s close friends. So Dawn called the police. I stayed with Alison while Dawn went to the police station.

  The next day there was still no news until 4:10 P.M. when I received a call from Dawn. A body had been found and she was asked to identify it. The identification on the body belonged to Helen. I needed to leave work and take Alison from her child minder until Dawn got back.

  I won’t go into detail about that day, because it’s not my story to tell. The body was indeed Helen’s. There were both signs of suicide and signs that it wasn’t intentional. Dawn told Alison on the day of the funeral, but the little girl didn’t really understand. A few days later, we were all in my car when Alison asked for her mum again. Dawn explained that her mum had gone to heaven and could see us, but we couldn’t see her. The cry from Alison then made us stop the car. She understood at that point and her grieving started.

  Helen’s death kicked off a completely new stage of the relationship between me and Dawn—and to an extent, me and Alison. For Dawn to come to terms with her grief, she needed more support. Because she was a private person by nature, with not many friends, I became somewhat of a confidante in the immediate aftermath. I also had to take Alison more, which was no problem for me.

  The following few years were typified by the fun, love and joy shared between my daughter and me, as well as periods of barely speaking interspersed with rare moments of friendship between Dawn and me. We took Alison out together when possible, which she loved. Dawn didn’t have any serious relationships in the meantime and when Alison was four, I met Antonio, a twenty-eight-year-old Brazilian who had been in Ireland for a year.

  Alison was told just before this that her family unit was different from others, but no less special, and that she was no different and no less loved by everyone. She was told her parents were gay, which means boys like boys and girls like girls. She wasn’t going to know many people who were gay and probably wasn’t gay herself, but either way was fine. (The number of One Direction posters in her bedroom now tends to make me think she will be into boys.)

  I had been dating Antonio for about a month and we both knew it was the beginning of something serious. I kept Dawn in the loop and planned a very low-key way to have Alison and Antonio meet, which Dawn thought was a good idea. So one day while I had Alison with me, we went to Antonio’s home to collect him and drive him to work. Alison was full of chat and questions for him. They talked about Disney princesses and he asked her if she liked “White Snow.” She nearly lost her lunch laughing at him and enjoyed correcting him. From then on, all Disney Princesses were renamed with backwards names: Ella-Cinder, Punzel-Rap, Beauty Sleeping…

  The next meeting we went for lunch. When I wasn’t looking, Antonio dared Alison to put salt in my tea. Oh she loved that! I drank it and almost choked. They high-fived and celebrated; they had gotten me. And they got each other. Later, she asked me, “Dad, is Antonio your boyfriend?”

  “How would you feel if he was?” I stuttered.

  “I’d feel good, Daddy. You shouldn’t be alone.” Those are the kinds of moments that stay with you and Alison has always been wise beyond her years.

  A couple of weekends away together and many, many cups of tea and salt later, we began to feel like a family. On one of our weekends away, Alison was a little moody and cranky with Antonio, so I took her for a walk. I asked her what was wrong. She has never held back with her thoughts and feelings.

  She said, “You have him now and you’re going to want to have other kids with him and you won’t want me.” I sat her down and told her that no matter what, she was my number one and Antonio always knew his job was to be number two. And if we did ever have kids, they were going to be from Antonio, so no one was ever going to take her place. She smiled a smile that can only be described as relief. I recounted this to Antonio later and made a point of calling them by their numbers for the rest of the weekend to put her mind at ease.

  In 2010, the Republic of Ireland government had agreed to the Civil Partnership law in principle, but hadn’t set a timeframe for its introduction. In Northern Ireland, as part of Great Britain, civil partnerships have been legalised since 2005. Since Antonio’s immigration status meant his right to stay in the country was not guaranteed and his employment prospects were severely limited, we decided to have a civil partnership in Northern Ireland and wait for the law to catch up in the South.

  So in August 2010, we had the most amazing day with family, friends and our flower girl and guest of honour, Alison. When it was time to exchange rings, we also had our best man put a ring on her finger, for her to mark how we were all being united that day. The three of us went on honeymoon to a wildlife and theme park in England.

  Antonio is always happy to tell us of a dream he had when he was considering leaving Brazil to move to Ireland. He dreamt that he was on a bridge and a figure in white appeared and told him, “If you cross the bridge and go to Ireland, you will meet a man with a daughter and you will be forever happy. If you don’t cross the bridge, your life may not give you this.” On the way to the ceremony, we went over a new bridge and he is adamant that it’s the one from his dream.

  I now have Alison over five nights every two weeks. Her two best friends live beside me, their families happy for all three girls to play at our home or Alison to play at theirs. Sleepovers happen, parties happen, life happens.

  Our story ultimately has a happy ending. Dawn and I are, at worst, cordial. On good days, which there are increasingly more of, we’re even friendly. I did a radio interview about being a gay parent and she happened to hear it. I was honest in the interview and recounted some of the experiences I have written about here. She said she had no idea I felt the way I did and that she finally saw the affection, love and joy I feel for and receive from my daughter.

  Dawn has tried to be friendlier since and, to be fair to her, she has given me a lot more respect than ever before. She’s had a tougher break than anyone I know and is unquestionably an outstanding parent. It was never an easy path for either of us, but we do not let that affect how Alison is raised. We work together now much better than we ever have done. We both respect that the other is doing their best.

  Alison is the most compassionate child you’ll ever see. Her teacher once told me that she had to scold Alison for not sitting in her seat during the lesson and promised a visit to the headmaster if she left her seat again. Five minutes later, another child started to cry and Alison went right over to her. The teacher told Alison to sit back down.

  Alison said, “No,
Ella is crying. I’m giving her a hug. When she’s okay, I’ll sit back down. It’s okay. I know I’ll be in trouble, but I don’t mind.” The teacher said it took her aback and that compassion at the risk of trouble was something that couldn’t be taught. Alison knows her family is different. So anyone who is in any way different is a friend for her. As she says, we are all different, so we are all the same.

  For anyone considering co-parenting, my advice is to make sure you know what you want, what areas can be reconsidered and what won’t be. Have everything agreed upon with a lawyer. Be prepared for your relationship with your co-parent to change, because it will. The more you discuss and agree in advance, the better. What happens if one of the couples separates? If one loses a job? If one wants to move from the area? Life is fluid and you simply don’t know where it will take you, but you may be taken in a different direction than you planned.

  For Antonio, Alison and me, our family is our life. It’s where we are happiest. Sometimes, we don’t appreciate what we have often enough. Sometimes our friends just don’t get how we don’t want the lives they have or the ones we used to have. Our journey to being the family we are was not easy, but it has been worth every bit of blood, sweat and tears.

  Yours could be too.

  Epilogue

  by Gabriel Blau

  Former Executive Director of the Family Equality Council

  From the moment I started dating in college, I assumed that, like my parents, I was going to have three children. I planned to have them all before I turned thirty. They would be perfect. My husband would be perfect, too.

  When I met my husband, we were in our early twenties. So far, so good. On our first date we talked about commitment, marriage and children. Check. Check. Check. A few years later, after moving in, getting married (before God and community—the state refused to be part of it) and with all the enthusiasm and excitement of a young couple who were going to pursue their dreams without hesitation, we found ourselves at an event in Manhattan hearing about the ways we could become parents through adoption. It was then that we hesitated.

  We had to have a child. We had to become parents. We can’t explain it, but when my husband and I were in our mid-twenties, we just knew it was time. We were younger than we felt. We were at the beginning of our careers. But we were gay. Gay men in their twenties just didn’t do that. They didn’t have kids or worry about babysitters and school and college funds. Who were we to challenge that? We were parents without a child, that’s who. Today, our child is in the other room, reading a book. I have a PTA meeting tonight. The dishes still need to be washed.

  For us, the path was adoption. We just always knew we were going to adopt. There’s really no rhyme or reason. People will tell you they had reasons—and they do—as to why they went one direction or another. But the truth is, it all comes down to something mysterious that happens deep inside.

  There wasn’t a book quite like this when we were deciding to have children. And the world in which we were making that decision was very different from the world today, even though it was less than a decade ago. So it was up to us to figure it out. And therein lies one of the blessings of becoming a parent as an LGBTQ person. We begin from a place of questions. In almost all cases, we must begin from a place of careful consideration and planning. Very few of us have the option of opening a bottle of wine, lighting some candles, not using protection and seeing where the night will take us, unless your idea of a romantic evening is writing checks to attorneys, signing papers, getting fingerprinted and inviting a social worker into your home.

  It might not be a “let’s see what happens” romantic evening, but there is still magic in this process. Whatever you read in these pages, whatever lists you make to help you figure out your path, whatever advice you get, don’t believe for a second it won’t be magical. The biggest secret is that jumping through hoops and speaking to surrogates, birthmothers, sperm banks and attorneys doesn’t actually diminish the experience. The more I travel the country and listen to parents, the more I realize that all of these processes only enhance our experiences. They have their own magic. The stumbling blocks, the different options, it all somehow comes together in the end and when you are holding your child, you know it had to happen that way. It just had to or your family wouldn’t be who they are. With your own journey, your story, you are joining many overlapping communities of LGBTQ parents who have as many origin stories as they have children. We are the most diverse and most intentional family demographic in history.

  It may be hard to imagine, but there was a time, not too long ago, where just the simple fact of being LGBTQ meant the courts automatically considered you an unfit parent. As I write this in 2015, there are still courts and legislators that believe we should be denied parental rights. People in our community have been literally torn away from their families and forbidden to have relationships with their children. Over the last few decades, our community has steadily obtained more and more protections for LGBTQ people and their families, but we still have a long way to go until we reach full equality.

  By the time you read this, we may have other protections for our families: protections against housing and employment discrimination, protections against discrimination in a restaurant or business. We may even have access to all the legal tools we need to secure our families (second-parent adoption, anyone?), but we’ll still need community. The Family Equality Council has been around for over thirty years and every survey they have conducted tells us the same thing: that above all else, there is tremendous power in being together. Your journey will be unique, but along the way you’ll meet your community and you’ll find that millions of us are there with you.

  So what’s next? Take a deep breath. Let it out. Appreciate that you are stepping into a journey the likes of which you cannot even imagine. Embrace the confusion and the hard moments, because that’s your family story. And one day it’s going to be your children’s story, the one they will ask you to tell again on their birthdays or the one you may be telling your grandchildren about their parents. So hold tight, take one step at a time and don’t forget that you are not alone.

  Words of Advice

  Now that you’ve read this book, I hope that you have a better understanding of the different family-building options available and a good idea of what it’s like to actually go through the various journeys. These stories should help you balance the information you receive from agencies to help ensure you have a more complete picture.

  Now, to help you move forward with your own family planning, I thought it best to compile some words of advice and encouragement from same-sex parents who have already been through the family-building journey. What did they learn from their experiences and what do they think you should know before embarking on your own journey? Remember to keep in mind that while there may be similarities with different people’s experiences, every path is unique and no two stories are the same.

  “The red tape is frustrating and discouraging, but don’t give up. The rewards are ten-fold. Stay on top of the process, ask questions or bring to light anything that doesn’t seem right. Follow up on everything and assume nothing will get done without that follow-up. Be kind: The social workers and family specialists are underfunded and overworked. Help them and you will be rewarded with a great support system and maybe even a few new friends!”

  —Van Welborn (Phoenix, Arizona)

  “You don’t need to wait for everything to be perfect before you have a child and I honestly wish we had started earlier. We didn’t think we were ready financially, so we put it off a few years. In retrospect, that was silly. Also, be patient. It takes a long time and you have to be committed to the process, but it’s really worth it!”

  —Demetri Moshoyannis (San Francisco, California)

  “Make sure you fully understand the legal costs up front and ask if there are any other expenses that are not included in your fee description. Our lawyer told us that our cost would be $3,000 to $4,000 and it e
nded up costing us $11,000! Also, do plenty of research to make sure you understand the laws in your state. Read! Read! Read!”

  —Joshua Hampshire (Dallas, Texas)

  “I wish we had known more about the process of getting us both recognized as legal parents. Because gay people couldn’t adopt together in our state, we had to do two separate adoptions, doubling the expense and the time. Make sure you understand the laws in your state up front. Everything you have to go through is worth it in the end, though. The rewards are endless. Don’t rule out older kids or special needs kids, either. They need love just like everyone else.”

  —David Angevine (Cleveland, Tennesee)

  “We noticed that agencies sometimes omit vital facts about a child in foster care or will even be directly dishonest about a child’s behaviors/background in an effort to rapidly, rather than appropriately, place a child. Don’t be swayed by emotional pleas from the agency if your gut tells you no. Also, be patient. Don’t make enemies of social workers, Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA), attorneys or others. When it comes time to advocate for your child—and there will be hundreds of times you will—these people need to work for you and they won’t unless you always approach with a smile, even a disingenuous one.”

  —Thomas Woolley (Fresno, California)

  “Don’t be discouraged by all the hoops you have to jump through. Stick with it! It can seem like hard work and a lot of paperwork at the time, but it is so worth it in the end! Also, if you’re adopting a child who isn’t a newborn, don’t expect him or her to be immediately well-behaved and fall in line with your values. They will need time and consideration while they learn to be the kind of mini-person you want them to be.”

  —Vanessa Ingley-Buxton (Derbyshire, United Kingdom)