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.

Five months older and wiser

My daughter will be five months old later on this week. It's hard to believe really. In one sense it has flown by, but in another I can no longer recall my life before she arrived. 

Both me and R are working out how to balance our needs with hers. It's important that our needs are prioritised too - without happy mummies, M won't be happy herself. For me, the balancing act of course also involves work. 

Most of the time it is fine, I manage to get most of what I want done and fulfill my responsibilities. It's a role, as many fathers can I am sure attest to, that is hard. There is a cult of motherhood which makes those of us who go out to work feel sometimes we can't complain about the sleep loss or the old life we miss. Whatever we are going through, it is perceived, mummy is going through worse. And perhaps that is true. But it is important that I allow myself to feel how I feel without guilt.

The new me

I've written a few times about the predictable cliches people come out with about having a baby. I have come to an alarming conclusion...

...they are all true!

So, let's get them out of the way: My life has changed beyond all recognition, I'm surviving on half my usual amount of sleep, it's hard work being a parent, I don't have room in my life for anything else at the moment etc etc. It is all, without question, wonderful, and I am very aware that while there are challenges, I am very lucky to have a baby at all. For some people, sleepless nights and poo-ey nappies are something unobtainable. I love my daughter, and can no longer imagine life without her.

M is 10 days old today and already my routine and approach to life has changed. Now, a few minutes to read the paper and drink tea while it is still hot is a rare luxury. My shower at the beginning of each day is something to savour, and at times, nights are something to dread. 

I think M is having a growth spurt at the moment. She is putting on lots of weight, and demanding feeds from R on an almost hourly basis. R is coping really well and now has the art of popping a boob out down to a fine art. She's only forgotten to put her top back up over her bra once so far...

I am lucky to be on parental leave for now. When I go back to work the routine will change again, but I will cross that bridge when I get to it. In the meantime I am concentrating on enjoying my daughter and looking after my wife. 

Top 10 things I've learnt as a mum to be

Avid readers will know that R is now 39 weeks plus 2 days pregnant. Sunday is the due date, which means that almost certainly Sunday will be spent impatiently waiting for something to happen only to wake up on Monday with baby bump still in situ. However, I thought I would take this opportunity to share my pregnancy learnings, before the new chapter of parenthood begins:

1. No one quite knows how to deal with a mum-to-be who isn't pregnant. At work last week someone felt it appropriate to ask me to 'explain again' how it is that I will be taking maternity leave in the next few weeks. It surely isn't that hard to understand - let alone same sex couples, what about all the couples who adopt?!

2. Being the non-pregnant partner can be quite tough. You get a lot of the emotional baggage of becoming a parent, without society's natural sympathy which is directed to pregnant women. 

3. More people than you expect will ask 'how did you do it?' We've almost always happily answered this question to hopefully demystify the process. Again though, it really isn't rocket science.

4. Everyone's an expert. No, really, they are. Even if they haven't had children, they will tell you exactly how pregnancy is, will be and what parenthood is like. 

5. Cliches become part of a depressing routine: get sleep now while you can; your life will never be the same again; you'll go to work to relax; if she's born on time she'll be oldest in her school year; you'll never get a full nights sleep again...

6. Horror stories are de rigeur - no one ever tells happy and uneventful birth stories. They always feel the need to share the horrific, dramatic and terrifying, conflating blue lights, sirens, drips, doctors, forceps, surgeons etc etc ad nauseum.

7. Babies need an inordinate amount of stuff. We now have a whole room full of what can only be described as 'baby equipment'. You start getting competitive with other parents about which buggy you choose. The fact that we've *not* opted for a travel system appears to be something of a political statement. 

8. Moving house seven weeks before the due date should be avoided at all costs. Ok, so it was the right move and we now actually have room for a baby, as well as a garden. It was worth it, but was by far the most stressful house move of my life. 

9. After a certain point, if you are in the pub (even having an innocent shandy), without your pregnant partner, you are teased for being irresponsible and 'leaving her at home'. She's pregnant, not ill!

10. The biological stuff means very little. When I set up this blog it started off by dealing with the fallout of me not being biologically linked to my child. It felt like a big deal to start with. But now, all those months on, I feel without question I am this child's Mama. The donor was just that, a donor. And while I am grateful for what he did, it is me who has supported R through the pregnancy, will sit by her side in the birthing suite, and bring up our daughter. Parenting is about proximity. 

Ready!

I feel a bit like a microwave that has just gone 'ping'! I am, whisper it, ready for baby. Followers of this blog will have read my hopes, fears, anxieties, rants and confusion. But here I am, less than two weeks from the due date, and I cannot wait to meet my daughter. 

It hasn't always been an easy nine months, but both R and I know it has been worth it. The bag is packed ready for the birth centre. The car has petrol in. I've stopped drinking so I can drive any time. We have a cot, clothes, pushchair, nappies, moses basket, toys and much more. We've done antenatal classes, breast feeding classes and practiced hypnobirthing and active birthing yoga. 

There is just one thing left: labour. 

Wish us luck!

News flash! We're having a girl!

At our 20 week scan, we found out that we're having a girl. We were thrilled with the news (although of course we would have been delighted with a boy too). So we are to be an all female household - imagine the hormones in about 15 years time...

It has been lovely beginning to get a sense of who our baby is, and we have been able to delight in looking at gorgeous girls' baby clothes. One slight disadvantage of all this though is that my mum has decided that she doesn't want to know what we're having. My parents have been staying with us this weekend, and every conversation seems to have a potential gender pitfall in it. It's been very stressful! I think there have been a few wobbles along the way, but I think/hope she is still in the dark as to whether we're growing sugar and spice or puppy dogs tails.

In reality we know that she will make her own way in the world, and I would like to think that her gender will not hold her back. I want her to feel free to be herself, wear whatever she wants and have the life that she wants.

Guest post: Mummy not mama for once!

B has asked me to write a guest post for this blog and I thought that readers might be interested to find out my story and how I became Mummy not Mama.

Before B and I got together I was in a relationship with a man for three years. As I've always wanted to have a child and had been clear about this I broached the subject with Peter (not his real name) after we'd been living together for a year or so. Although Peter was committed to me and our relationship he wasn't able to definitely commit to us having a child together and getting married and this was too open ended for me. It was for these reasons that I ended the relationship.

Where is this leading? Well, B and I had been friends for a couple of years already during this and knew where we both stood independently in relation to wanting to have a child and getting married before we got together. When we did get together a few months later this meant that we already knew having a child was important for both of us.

Some of my family, friends and colleagues were a bit surprised or confused when B and I got together however. I'm also not sure how well Peter and his family took the news at first. Although I've always been bisexual, B is my first relationship with a woman so maybe the concept of there being two mums for a child was completely new for some of those people. I remember that I had to learn about all the different options available to us to have a family as this was also quite new to me so I empathise with others when they don't really know or understand how it works. This is useful to have been through as if I ever get comments whereby people assume that we've used IVF I have more patience to try and explain to them how we went about getting pregnant (if they want to know).

It took a little while for some people to fully get it and my dad had to do a bit of explaining to some family members who were confused but for whatever reason hadn't felt they could ask me about it directly. I've always tried to be open about mine and B's experience and since I've become pregnant I find that it's best to make it clear that I'm happy for people to ask me as many questions about it as they like. I've found that lots of people are curious to find out more and I'm sure that this will help more widely with understanding and acceptance of children who have two mums.

So where do those slightly confused people in my life stand now? I think that they can see how happy I am and that they see beyond B's gender and just see her as being the best parent figure for our child that I could ask for. This is why I'm proud to be Mummy with a Mama not a man.

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.

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.

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!