Who's the daddy?

Who's the daddy? Well, as far as my daughter is concerned, pretty much any adult male who makes conversation with us...

I remember when we first started trying for a baby I wondered whether our child would resent growing up without a father. We reassured ourselves with the fact that our baby would have two loving parents.

My daughter is now two and a half, and has been going to nursery for about a year. As a result she has come to medt many other children with different kinds of families and backgrounds, which is great. Lots of the children are picked up by 'dad' and I think this was her first exposure to being a little different to others. She has responded with curiosity. When my sister, brother-in-law and niece and neohew came to stay, she called her uncle 'dad' just as his son did. I actually found it really sweet, although I can't speak for 'uncle dad' as he became that weekend. Today we were being welcomed into an apartment we are renting for the weekend by the owner, who was with his young son. Within five minutes my little girl grabbed his hand and called him 'dad' much to his surprise.

Her name for me is 'mama bear' - a nickname my mum dubbed me with when she was born which has stuck. Interestingly, while she was busy appropriating other children's dads, at least three other children - including my nephew - call me mama bear too from time to time.

My little girl has the good fortune of having three grandfathers, each of whom she has a good and very different relationship. So she'll never want for 'male role models'. I long ago realised that it was the quality of the relationship you have with a child, not who you are, what your gender is and whether you have a biological connection with them.

I picked her up from nursery yesterday to discover all the children had done special drawings for their dads to mark Father's Day this Sunday. The nursery nurse was rather timid when she explained that the picture my girl had done was dedicated to me, and was that ok? I was so very touched. So it would seem that, for now, being mama bear is good enough. And chaps - if a small blonde toddler sidles up to you and calls you 'dad' within minutes of meeting you, take it as a compliment.

My wriggly baby

We had our 20 week scan this week. It was incredible to see the baby in such detail, although it wasn't easy for the radiographer to do all her checks because our little one is a real wriggler. You can see in the photo above, the baby is facing downwards - that's the head on the right. Happily, the scan went well and baby is developing well.

R is beginning to feel the baby moving around now, which is quite exciting for us both. I feel much more at ease as well. As readers of my previous posts will know, I have done a lot of thinking about the kind of parent I will be, and the impact of my not having a biological connection to my child. But, as time goes on, these worries and thoughts have receded. Having been through the pregnancy every step of the way with R, I really feel like this baby is every bit as much mine as it is hers.

Our time now is spent on practicalities - making room for a cot, getting rid of stuff we don't need, and making connections with other parents-to-be. One of the great things about living where we do is that we are able to be part of a gay families group which meets at our local LGBT Community Centre. It has been a great source of support, and I have no doubt that this will continue.

What about me?

One of the challenges of being the partner of a pregnant woman is finding your role. R gets to be part of this secret society of women who give each other knowing looks, roll their eyes in unison and shake their heads over things such as pelvic floors and pregnancy pillows. As a woman, I reckon I have an advantage, and indeed R and I have done synchronised pelvic floor exercises in recent weeks. Every little helps...

However, I don't seem to have an automatic role, which is sometimes challenging. The first question, understandably, that anyone asks me is how R is. There is an assumption that I am fine and that I'm just there, making cups of tea and soaking up the stress. I guess that is what I am doing to a certain extent. But sometimes, it is hard to work out what I should be doing when I am sleeping like a log and R is yet again tossing and turning all night. People rush to ensure that R has a seat and carry bags for her, which is fantastic, but I do feel like a spare part from time to time.

As you will see from previous posts, I do feel from time to time that I don't have an automatic community. I'm not a 'dad' but I'm not a 'mum' in the traditional sense either. I fall between two stools really. Most of the time that's quite nice, leaving me to find my own way and do it the way feels right. I hope that R feels supported, and I am fortunate that when I have a 'parental wobble' she is there and willing to listen.

Last week we grabbed a bit of unexpected sunshine and sat outdoors. We talked about what each of us will do with our baby when he/she arrives. It was lovely to really start to think of ourselves as a family. In just a few months that is what we will be.

Call the Midwife!

So perhaps our midwife doesn't actually look like this... But we are off to see her tomorrow. R is now 17 weeks pregnant so tomorrow we are going to check in with our midwife at the local GP surgery.

I'm feeling quite excited, as we should be able to hear the baby's heart beat for the first time. It's an odd thing really, expecting a baby. R's tummy is definitely growing, and we have seen the little baby on a scan screen, but sometimes you can forget there's a real little person in there. I'm looking forward to hearing our child tomorrow for the very first time. I am sure that will make everything feel very real.

There is also that sense of anxiety that comes before any check up or scan. Everyone knows that these appointments are to just reassure everyone that mummy and baby are doing well, but you can't help but think about what happens if that isn't the case.

No doubt poor R will have to give lots of samples of blood for testing and the inevitable wee in a pot. I will sit and try and ask useful questions and smooth her brow if that seems necessary. I would like to think that we will leave the clinic wiser as to our little baby's health and happiness.

Top ten comments on discovering you are expecting a baby

When you discover that a friend is expecting a baby, what do you say? Think carefully, and then read the comments below. These are the ones that R and I now have stock answers for...

1. Well, that will change your life forever. Yes, marvellous, thank you for that, we hadn't realised...
2. Is it a boy or a girl? We don't know yet.
3. Will you find out? Yes, but we don't mind either way.
4. Well, make the most of any sleep you get now, in a few months you won't get any. Excellent, that's very helpful. Thank you.
5. When is it due? September.
6. Did you have IVF? This is one for those of us who don't have an obvious man in our lives. The answer is no.
7. Ooh, children are a gift aren't they? Yes they are. But I am not sure I need to hear that phrase ever again.
8. Let me tell you about my traumatic/unpleasant/painful/tragic childbirth story... No, please don't.
9. To R when she is feeling ghastly: Oh you look really well. Nope, she's not, she feels like death warmed up. Thanks though.
10. Will you move to a bigger place? No - having a child is hard work enough without moving house too. 

I am tempted now to refer everyone to this link. Yes, I know I sound churlish. In fact I am totally guilty of some of the above myself. Perhaps we could come up with some alternatives?

My thoughts on Mothering Sunday

Here in the UK it is Mother's Day, or as my own Mum prefers to call it, Mothering Sunday. It does make it sound more spiritual, although it does make me feel as though we ought to mark it in church or something which we haven't done.

R and I sent our own Mothers' cards, and we also sent each other little 'mum-to-be' cards. It's funny to think that, all being well, by Mother's Day 2014 we will have a little baby of our own.

As those of you who have read previous posts will know, I started this blog to try and make sense of my role as the non-biological child that my wife, R, is currently pregnant with. We are 15 weeks pregnant today and contemplating how our lives will change. One of the wonderful things I have discovered about writing this blog, is how many people feel similarly to me. It has been fantastic reading comments and tweets from people sharing their very diverse experiences.

One thing that has become abundantly clear, and that I have found enormously comforting, has been that while I won't share the biological and birth giving connection to my child that my wife has, I will have my own bond with my son or daughter, she she will not have. We will have our own very special roles, neither one more important than the other. This has been a rather delightful revelation to me. So, no, the child won't have my green eyes, but it may well share my sense of humour. And while R will have the connection of breast feeding, I will be the one, while R is on maternity leave, that the baby will enjoy returning home from work.

Finally, this Mothering Sunday, I'd just like to take a moment to think about those who aren't mums and wish they were, or those whose mums are no longer with us. I always think this must be a very tough time for them.

So in this day and age it's easy to get LGBT children's books right?

We've been thinking through all the 'stuff' we're going to need for when the baby arrives. The life laundry has begun, and we're already saying farewell to surplus objects that seemed like a good idea at the time. Why we felt the need to have three spare mobile phones hanging around is a mystery to me...

I was reassured yesterday that babies actually don't need that much stuff, and in fact a lot of the perceived need is market driven. That is a useful thing to keep in mind. Facebook hasn't worked out I'm going to be a mother yet, so I have yet to have the pleasure of constant baby ads. The wedding ones last year were bad enough...

One thing we do want to do though is make sure we have plenty of story books for both our child and others that show other families 'like us'. Sadly, they are depressingly thin on the ground. I've had to resort to Amazon. One of my faves is Mommy, Mama and Me by Leslie Newman. It is American, as many of these books are - nothing wrong with that, although some of the references don't quite work. But finding a British one seems nigh on impossible. The most beautiful that I know is And Tango Makes Three, based on the true story of two boy penguins in a New York City zoo who brought up a baby penguin. There is a theatrical interpretation of that story at our local arts centre this weekend and we're really looking forward to going, along with some other LGBT parents and parents-to-be.

Delightfully, I have found that some classics have been reinterpreted - for example Goldilocks and the three bears who are now two mums and baby bear. But in all fairness, I could count on one hand the number that I found. Am I looking in the wrong place?

If you have any suggestions of books for any children under 10 which include LGBT characters, please, I implore you, let me know!

What's DNA got to do with being a parent?

It wasn't until I was expecting a baby to which I will have no genetic connection that I realised how obsessed we were as a culture with biological inheritance.

For example, how often do you hear phrases like:

• She looks just like you...
• Oh he doesn't look anything like his dad does he?
• Well they are your flesh and blood after all
• And blood is thicker than water...
• Oh he takes after his grandfather

I'm sure that I have uttered all of the above - which is shameful because apart from anything else they are all such unoriginal cliches (but I digress) - without even thinking about it. 

I know rationally that of course I will be bringing up mine and R's child as its mother - or Mama to be more precise. But, will I ever legitimately be able to see myself in him or her?

A friend recently reassured me about this, having been through the same experience. Indeed, I am sure many step parents can relate to this too, although the dynamics are different there again. She reminded me that ultimately a child's behaviour, outlook on life and future are down to their upbringing. Yes, there are genetic predispositions, but it will be my actions that will have every bit as much of an impact as R's.

One thing I never worry about is whether I will love my baby. Ten years ago I worked with children with special needs who needed respite care. It was a chance for them to get away from their parents, and a chance for their parents to have a breather. I remember one particular afternoon spending time with a boy of 12 who had very severe learning and physical disabilities. His communication consisted of being able to demonstrate that he was happy or not. I spent an afternoon watching television with him and trying to make him laugh. It was a couple of days before Christmas, and I remember very strongly feeling a real connection with him. His home life wasn't always as good as it might be, and I recall simply wanting to take him away from it all, and thinking how proud I would be of him were he my child. That had nothing to do with biology.

So, what *do* you do when the sperm donor comes round?

The first time our sperm donor came over to our home to make his donation, we ran round tidying up and anxiously tried to work out where he would like to provide his sample. It was a toss up (apologies) between the spare room and the bathroom. We got our special wide rimmed specimen pot ordered online ready and sat on the sofa nervously.

When Fred (not his real name) arrived, we talked slightly nervously, before asking where he would like to 'do it'. He opted for the spare room. We gave him the plastic container and watched him disappear down the hall. The door shut and there was silence. In fact there was far too much silence. What if we heard him 'donating'?! I immediately put on a CD and R went into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher, wondering if we should have provided him with some 'reading' material.

After about 15 minutes Fred re-emerged, having left the sample on the bedside cabinet. I offered him tea and a biscuit - I felt it was only right. That's what they do when you give blood right? He declined the offer politely and went on his way, wishing us luck.

It was at this point that the technical bit started. I was in charge of the sperm, so I collected it and wrapped the pot in tissue. It is important it doesn't get too hot or cold. It is best when left for about half an hour. I suspect this is deeply scientific, but don't ask me why! Then, well, it's about insertion. The most important piece of equipment you will ever need is a sense of humour...

We were fortunate to get pregnant after just a few months. On the last donation Fred apologised for there being 'less than usual'. I immediately reassured him that it was still infinitely more than I would be able to produce...

Why I'm mama, not mummy

This is our little teeny tiny baby, cosy inside mummy's tummy. We had our 12 week scan today. It was incredible. It's amazing to think about how well developed it is already, even if it is only 7cm long!

But today I wanted to write a bit about why I started this blog. I will be mama to our little tot when it is born, although I will have no genetic link with him or her. This won't make me any less of a parent. In fact, in the eyes of the law, all is good. Both mine and R's names will be on the birth certificate.

However, this is all about so much more than legal status. I will become mama to a little baby in the Autumn of 2013, but when I looked around for resources for other women in my position, I struggled to find anything. Look online and there is heaps of stuff about how to get pregnant, different options for parenting, how to legally protect yourself etc. But there is very little about people like me. The 'other' parent. There is no one to talk to about those late night worries which include:

• I have more of a genetic link to my sister's child than my own
• People might judge us for choosing not to have an active father present
• Will I be a good enough parent? (ok, fair enough, all parents go through that one!)
• If people see me with the baby and assume I gave birth, should I correct them?
• Will I be able to pass on valuable parts of me through social interactions alone?

This is not an exhaustive list, but it gives you a general idea. Generally, rationally, I can answer all of those fairly easily. But, still, there is a lack of support out there. So, this is what my blog will be about. Finding that support.

Back to the beginning

Me and R knew even before we got married that we wanted children, so it was simply a case of working out how to do it. We had several options:

1. Pay for artificial insemination at a hospital, using 'anonymous' sperm. I use parentheses because at 18 any child conceived with donor sperm in this way can still get in touch with the sperm donor.
2. Ask a friend to donate sperm to us without taking on parental responsibility and inseminate at home.
3. Use a third party website to identify a local sperm donor and inseminate at home.

We both knew that R would be giving birth, so I took the decision initially that I would prefer option 1. It seemed the most 'scientific' and legally protected. However, after an unpleasant appointment at the 'infertility clinic' (in spite of no evidence of infertility), and a potential cost of £750 a go, we had a rethink. How hard could doing it ourselves be?

So to option 2. A friend had flippantly suggested to me that he would be willing to help some months before. I went back to him in the cold light of day to see if the passage of time and sobriety might have made him think better of his offer. It hadn't. So we started to plan how it would work. Several months later though he felt unable to continue for personal reasons. It was a real blow. Not his fault, but it definitely brought home to us how much we wanted this child, and how invested we were in the process.

And finally... Option 3 was the one I was least keen on. Basically, it felt like just getting in touch with a stranger and asking him for sperm. It felt odd. I changed my view though after speaking to a friend who had done just that. She pointed out that it wasn't that different from the clinic option, if much cheaper and less exact. We'd have full control over the donor, and as civil partners we'd have legal rights as parents.

So option 3 it was. We set about putting together a profile. It was a whole step into a different dimension to online dating, although there were definite similarities. For example, when we'd found someone we thought we liked and had exchanged photos, we arranged to meet. Inevitably it was in a public place - a cafe. Somewhere safe. This was as much for his benefit as ours. There we sat, teapot full, expectations high, and in he sauntered. Thankfully he looked like his photo, and not like some weirdo. Not of course that looks have any correlation with weirdness. But I digress... We had a lovely chat and resolved, by the end of it, that he could be our sperm donor. 

The whole process from option 1 to 3 took us about eight months. It's at times like that I question people who say gay parents cannot provide for a child. We have to work so much harder and think about it so much more to become parents in the first place!