Dads: A gay couple's surrogacy journey in India (28 page)

Cringing at the flash light,

but already holding his own bottle...

But our son is still special, and I don't mean “special” in the way all parents think of their children. Over the past two weeks, we've literally seen a parade of men and women come and greet Sascha, at times actually reminding me of the three saints, bringing gifts, looking at him, wishing him well.

Why?

Being here in India (and the phenomenon is also occurring virtually on Facebook or Twitter for that matter), a country that “officially” doesn't have a gay population (duh!), all of our gay friends come and hail Sascha like a wonder, the fact that Alex and I, two men, live openly and happily as a married (legally no less, SCOTUS!) couple, but that we managed to procreate, and become parents, that is HUGE, despite the many adversities we've been put through (and still are going through until he's legally under our protection).

Bonding time. Skin contact is important

they say at our kids' clinic…

Sascha’s waiting patiently (or not) for his bottle.

Sascha isn't the first baby born to a gay male couple, no. Not even close. Gay men have had children ever since the dawn of time. In India, they still get married (against their personal wishes, to the detriment of the poor girl they're married to) and have kids, and the same is true in many other countries as well, where just about the only way out of getting married is to become a catholic priest…

Some gay men are late bloomers, some made “mistakes”. Whatever happened and however it happened, gay man have always been parents. In recent years, many gay couples have adopted (where possible, primarily in the US), fostering has become an option and lately, surrogacy.

So no, in no way is Sascha unique, rare, maybe, unique, no. (Except to us of course…)

But to our friends, he is the first child born to a gay couple, and they adore him. He's become this beacon of light, this symbol of hope for a better future, that maybe someday, they might also be able to live their lives with the man they love, that maybe someday, they might be able to have a family as well. And it doesn't matter whether this wish is true for the 70-year-old or the 18-year-old. While the ship may have sailed for some, they rejoice in the promise of a better future, where being gay may still hold the promise of love, marriage, and parenting. Because like most of our heterosexual and bisexual co-humans out there, MOST of us do dream of being able to pass on our values to a new generation, most of us dream of maybe one day being able to hold a grandchild in our arms, and to share the happiness of parenting with our own children.

Lounging in the sun at our hotel. I could watch him for hours and hours...

So many think that gay people are aliens, as if we were from another planet, and when you read some of the bizarre accusations of what we're doing and what we're capable of (from creating hurricanes to nullifying vaccines), you sometimes wonder how stupid these people are. We are just like you, no different than a redhead is from a brunette, no different than a “redskin” is from a “black” or “white.” The only difference is that we give our hearts to someone of our own gender. Apart from that, most of us just want to go to work, earn a living, and live our lives with our families and loved ones.

To our friends in India, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia, Australia, Tunisia, the UAE, the USA, Singapore, Canada, Germany, France, and many, many other countries, that is exactly what Sascha represents. And never has a child been loved by so many. Never has a child been blessed with more aunties and uncles.

All of our friends may not read this, but rest assured, Alex and I are deeply grateful for your affection, your love and your devotion to us, and to our son. Your kindness cannot be repaid, all we can hope for is to do the best damn job we can to raise Sascha into a fine young man to dazzle the world…

Thank you all!

*tumbleweed*

Some people get drunk, fuck, cum, and end up pregnant. Usually it's because he doesn't use protection (or maybe she wouldn't let him. I've heard some girls are offended when he suggests the rubber, saying “I'm no slut!”) or she doesn't, or whatever. Unless she aborts the pregnancy, nine months or forty weeks later, give or take a couple, the happy (?) couple ends up being parents.

Sascha, a couple of hours ago, sleeping after

another feast on Nestlé NAN 1 formula...

No questions asked, no worry about documents, no one to question your parenting skills or your ability to provide for the child, nobody even questioning the child's biological ties. If married, he's the father, says the (Swedish) law, despite the fact that research shows that every other couple is “unfaithful.” And that one third of all paternity cases turn out that the husband actually isn't the father...

That's hetero-normativity (and naïveté) for you. For us, it's all different. First of all, as men, we don't have a womb conveniently located underneath our intestines, or behind or whatever. We can't carry a baby, and most of us wouldn't know what to do with a vagina if served on a platter. I'd probably turn it away saying, “I'm vegetarian, I don't eat fish…” and wrinkle my nose at it.

No, I don't hate women, quite the contrary. It's just that part of their body that doesn't exactly appeal to me, which probably goes a long way in explaining why I'm gay (not why I'm vegetarian…)

Eighteen days ago, my son was born. Yes, MY son, my own flesh and blood. Using my junk, and the gracious donation of fertile eggs by a young, brilliant, open-minded and beautiful young Indian woman, modern science managed to create this beautiful creature we call Sascha. After eight plus months in the womb of the most amazing woman known to me, he was born, healthy, with ten fingers, ten toes and a healthy appetite for life…and food!

But for Alex and I, the journey to parenthood doesn't end here. It's not as simple as it is for the unfortunate Friday night binge-drinking couple or the loving man and woman who become pregnant the traditional way.

Sascha was baby 250, born to our amazing agency,
SurrogacyIndia
. They helped us through all the bureaucratic and medical jungle with their amazing team, always helpful, always responsive, most highly recommended!

No, for us, Sascha's birth entailed the beginning of a long and protracted legal battle to achieve what rightfully should've been “mine” from the beginning…

24 hours after his birth, tubes still attached to him, Sascha barely capable of opening his eyes, we had to take pictures of him for his temporary passport and to get the DNA test done. That test was done about 60 hours after his birth, the swabbing for his puny saliva sample leaving his cheeks bloody. We had no choice, because the test takes at least twelve days to complete. We got the results late Friday night, five hours too late to be able to set up the next appointment with the Swedish consulate where we go tomorrow (every day here in India, as beautiful as it is, is money down the proverbial drain) morning.

Last week, waiting for the DNA results and the birth certificate (which, according to Indian law, slightly more modern than its Swedish counterpart, clearly states me as the child's father and sole guardian, as the mother - the egg donor - is anonymous), we spent an entire afternoon going through dozens of documents, affidavits, letters, statements, contracts, bills, invoices and other supporting evidence which the Swedish bureaucracy demand of us.

Someone's rejoicing at the news

that he actually is his father's son...

The DNA test was conclusive. I am the father of Sascha, biologically at least, with a 99.999% certainty. It doesn't get any better than this. But see, according to the Swedish law, this only means that the “mother” (aka surrogate) cheated on her husband, and that now - rather than having shared custody over Sascha - with her husband, she now has, according to Swedish law, sole custody over “her” son.  Nobody cares that he's not really her son.

So tomorrow, at the Swedish consulate, in her and her husband's presence, we need to sign a gazillion documents where she not only declares that I'm the father (despite the DNA test already saying so), and her husband declaring himself “not” to be the father (despite the DNA test already saying he isn't) and then sign papers where she hands over custody of a child that isn't hers to me, the child's actual parent. Weird? Sick? It gets worse…

Because this is a drawn out process, and until Alex is able to adopt Sascha (even biological mothers of surrogate born babies have to adopt their own flesh and blood, just because their womb is dysfunctional), it could take six to nine months and social services will investigate whether Alex is in fact capable of raising and supporting Sascha. You don't see that happening when single mom meets new lover, do you? But alas… It gets worse!