Dads: A gay couple's surrogacy journey in India (33 page)

A year has passed since I first published this image, and I wouldn't have thought that my life would change so much in this short period of time. A friend of mine, Naomi, asked me this morning, “Which of the June holidays I'd be celebrating more this year, my birthday or father's day?”

Well, father's day (Swiss version/date) was Sunday, so that's a miss. Alex looked at me with a “u nuts?” look on his face, as our "give daddy a crappy tie day" isn't until November 10, and the US version is in two weeks. Why can't people agree on ONE date for things like that? No wonder we all get confused in the Facebook day and age…

So I've already missed my first father's day, as a Swiss I would've been entitled to celebrate on June 2, Naomi, see if anyone remembers us on the 16th… I guess father's day celebrations will have to wait until Sascha is old enough to make us breakfast in bed (which will be a few years yet…)

Sascha, Mumin style, is happy for his daddy on my birthday,

and so am I, for this little fella!

My birthday and I have always had a “love-hate” relationship, at least from my side. I doubt very much that my birthday gives a shit about me. But as I celebrate the twentieth installment of my twenty-seventh birthday (*pew*), I realize just how ludicrous clinging to that belief has become.

I may still 'feel' that way emotionally, my soul certainly doesn't seem to age, but as my lumbago and the body surrounding it reminds me these days, I am 46, no doubt about it. Should I forget about that for a second, all I have to do is try and get up… LOL

There's something to be said about the old adage: “Be thankful for every day above forty when you wake up without pain…”

I celebrate my birthday today, not because I am a year older, but because I have been given the most precious gift of them all, on March 21, and he's currently sound asleep on the porch, getting some fresh air and sleep at the same time. One year ago, being a parent was still a dream, although we had managed to get the papers filed just before I became too old even for surrogacy. (India applies a 45 year age limit for intended parents.)

To answer Naomi's question, I don't celebrate father's day (yet), but I look forward to many such days in the future, and I'll leave it to Sascha to decide which of the days he wants to celebrate with his dads. As for my birthday, it's going to be a quiet one, middle of the week and all, but I am happy and content, and that's probably the best thing to wish for on a birthday, isn't it?

Oh myyyyy, as some might say… I haven't written in ages.

We've had a busy couple of weeks with Sascha's name giving ceremony, an unplanned visit to see my mother at the dementia clinic, and all the work on my books. I just didn't get around to it. Not that there isn't much to be said or written about.

So let me give you a quick rundown of what's up in my life.

On midsummer, we 'officially' revealed Sascha's names, explaining why we chose them and giving the guardian angels a chance to introduce themselves to friends and family. It was - if I may say so - a worthy and moving ceremony, decidedly marked by the noted absence of my mom, and Alex's mother and sister, all of them due to illness.

I also decided to go see my mom. She recognized me, but didn't know who I was. That may not make much sense to anyone unfamiliar with dementia, but faces and voices often seem familiar, oddly so, to the patient, although they don't remember who the person is, how they know them, etc. It was only at the end of the visit that mom had pieced together who I was.

It was the same with her grandson, with whom she will not be able to build any sort of relationship as she forgets about him within minutes after his disappearance from her retina, no matter how many photos Dad puts up on the walls around her.

It was a strange and painful visit, and the minute she walked up to us, trailing a nurse, holding her hand, both Dad and I were up in tears. Those are difficult moments.

Last weekend, Alex and I traveled north to see his side of the family. His mom, his sister and family, and his bonus mother, none of whom had been able to attend our celebrations due to different illnesses.

My two babies
…
in a book shelf near you, soon, or so I hope!

It was a good weekend and Sascha got to meet his other grandmother, and Alex - hopefully - another chance at finding some sort of peace with his mom (looong story!)

I'm also thrilled to tell you that I've finished one manuscript and sent it to the printer and returned the second one to the editor for a second review. Hopefully, both will be out by the end of this month.

I am so proud of both books. I'm not claiming to be a new Shakespeare or whatever, but both stories are very dear to me, making me cry when reading them. Very powerful stuff, very powerful things that happen and are discussed. Hopefully, you'll like them, too.

Naturally, I'll be back here in a few weeks with links to all the pertinent places! :) Just be a little bit more patient.

Four months already.

How did time fly so fast?

Welcome to the world, son!

Those first moments outside the operating theater were so precious,

yet so stressful that I barely remember them...

Sometimes it feels it was only yesterday that we stood waiting in front of the ER surgical theater at Hiranandani Hospital in Mumbai, nervous, not sure what to expect, those minutes before you were placed in our arms.

And look at you now.

Not only have we stowed away all your clothes sized 50 and 56, but you're quickly growing into the ones sized 68 and filling out size 62. Those will be next, another box to fill.

You were so tiny that day when you were brought to us from

the intensive care unit

Clothes are not the only thing. I recall those first days when we struggled to get you to eat 40 ml of formula. You would take your time, testing our patience. A full hour, that's how long it could take before you had eaten your formula, six times per day.

These days, you're not satisfied unless you eat 270 ml most of the time, and this past weekend you've forayed into solid foods for the first time. And you seem to enjoy it, learning quickly how to transport the gooey stuff from daddy's spoon to the back of your mouth to swallow. Corn and sweet potato, your first solid meals. Today we'll try something else. Mango maybe.

We bought some readymade jars for you, to just test and see how it works. If you like it, I'll start cooking my own meals for you, because I don't quite trust these jars, not to mention that they're ridiculously overpriced.

You laugh a lot, you take in your surroundings, and we've already had to change the seating of your stroller so that you can sit, rather than lie on your back, to better enjoy the views and take them all in.

You still hate having to spend even a second on your tummy and you usually fall asleep rather than try to turn over on your back, much to daddy's dismay. We will keep getting angry looks from the nurses at the clinic. But you don't really care, do you? You just prefer to sit in your babysitter where you have a good look at things around you, you can rock it, kick your legs and just enjoy life.

You love your baths, you always have, from day one (or five actually), kicking and splashing with all your might. You sleep like a log, for 11 hours at least, every night, allowing your dads to get their rest, too, or get some work done. You're really the perfect child. You eat, you poop, you don't cry much, you're just very easy going and mostly happy.

Four months, I'm your legal guardian now and within another month or so, Alex will also become your “legal” father, the adoption people coming by next week to do their magic (or whatever).