Dads: A gay couple's surrogacy journey in India (32 page)

My writing is progressing slowly. I've started work on a new novel, but rather than writing three thousand to ten thousand words per day, I'm happy if I get a thousand out of my system. The drawback is that my brain keeps spinning on the story. I already have the entire novel in my head, but haven't written it yet, which is a bit odd, at least for me.

On the other side, my first two novels are well on their way to being edited and the cover for the first one is almost done. So all's well here!

Happy two month birthday, son!

Sascha is doing well.

Let me begin by saying that! He had his first cold a couple of weeks ago and is now in what seems like a growth spurt, clocking at 60 cm and 5.550 kg yesterday at his weigh in at the children's clinic.

Our daily life is going along just fine and we enjoy every minute with our little prince. It's funny. When we were in India, we noticed how pale he was compared to many of the local kids we saw in the maternity and NICU wards. Yet, attending the first of three baby massage lesson yesterday, I realized just how beautifully chocolate he is compared to real "pink skins" and their snow white skin. No wonder their moms have to hide them behind so much sun block…

Sascha last night, after being fed by pappa Alex,

he's looking at me with his cute little smile.

Most people agree that Sascha is a beautiful baby, and who am I to argue with them? Not only is he cute, but when he smiles, I lose track of all time. I've seen some pretty ugly babies recently, but obviously would never tell their mothers. LOL But one thing's for sure, they look very different. One of the things you learn quickly as a parent.

I promised you an update on our legal struggle, and last I
wrote
about this, eight days ago, we had just submitted the final paperwork for me to get custody over Sascha. Only two days after that, the court ruled in my favor!

As I had mentioned, the agreement between me and the surrogate mother was signed, and absent any 'conflict', the court had nothing to do but to legalize that which we had agreed upon. But before they could do that, they had to contact social services in my borough to make sure I wasn't a social case. Once I heard about this, I immediately contacted them and asked them to contact the court, telling them that I was indeed not a client. They thankfully did that, thus saving me three weeks because the court allows the agency three weeks to get back, and if they haven't replied by then, they would rule. Due to the quick feedback, the court was able to make its ruling the next morning. It now takes three weeks before the ruling becomes final as Sweden observes three weeks grace period to allow people to challenge the ruling. On June 14, I'll legally be Sascha's custodian and sole legal guardian. Thanks to the Gothenburg District Court, department 3 and Matilda Larsson who worked so swiftly with our case. When our system works, it works very well, but as a “client”, you have to remain active and observant!

That irresistible laugh!

All the while, Matilda also sent Alex's adoption papers to the “family court” (which is a branch of social services within the city responsible for things like adoptions, custody battles, etc.) They will now have to come to our house and do a formal investigation if Alex is really fit (duh!) to be Sascha's second legal guardian and father. He's already the bread winner of the family. I dare them to find anything else. Sadly, the family court, as nice as they are, aren't working quite as fast, the elderly ladies not interested in putting in any overtime or working a bit faster to make their investigation happen before the holidays, which could cost us three months. As you may know, in Sweden people generally go on vacation from midsummer (June 21) to the second week of August.

Once their visit and the subsequent report is finished, it will have to be submitted to the social services board (a bunch of politicians) who have to approve the adoption before it goes back to the court for their final ruling. Only then (and the subsequent three week grace period) will our legal battle be over, and our family the way it should be.

Knock on wood, so far things have gone well. Let's hope it stays that way. I really can't complain about our system here in Sweden (no matter how discriminatory it is to rainbow families), compared to many other countries, it's pure bliss… Our friends from Denmark and England are stuck in India for up to six months before they're even allowed to go home! And a friend of mine, who has lived in England for years but had to return to India to renew his passport, has been waiting for his visa to rejoin his boyfriend in England since July last year! Unbelievably slow, not to mention the prejudice and racism swinging underneath the surface in such cases.

Speaking of racism, we applied to insure Sascha and were refused due to the fact that he was born abroad and because they couldn't “assess” his health. We appealed and submitted his entire medical history. Ten DVDs with ultrasound films, all the files from one of India's best hospitals. Oddly, a Swedish baby gets accepted with one ultrasound and potentially no medical records at all, just because s/he was born in the right country. Racism! I'm curious as to how they'll react once they've seen the medical records.

The other odd thing was the health care system's reaction to swaddling. The whole world does it, except Sweden, and our nurse was not thrilled that we swaddled Sascha to calm him. Yet yesterday, during the massage lesson, she played Bengali children's songs and taught us Ayurvedic massage practices… *sigh*

Tomorrow we celebrate Sascha's ten weeks birthday! :)

PS: Meanwhile, things seem to look a little brighter again for singles (mostly LGBT) who dream of becoming parents. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

I've been a father for almost eleven weeks. To many of you out there, this is equal to nothing. Many of you have raised children and you're now grandparents, maybe even great grandparents.

To me, the experience is still new. I politely answer questions about “how is it?” There is no one answer to that question… At least, no simple one. Few things change our life so significantly as becoming a parent, and though it may be arrogant to say so, but you have to experience it to understand what I mean. More about that in a minute.

Making faces… Sascha's new favorite pastime...

Other questions I answer are things like “is it difficult?”, “Are you up to the challenge?”, or “How are you coping?” No, it is NOT difficult. People a lot less intelligent have been able to whip out a boob or prepare the formula to feed a baby, change its diapers or soothe it when crying. The physical aspects of being a parent are quite simple really. As for the second and third one, I usually just glare at the idiot asking it, because I obviously wouldn't have spent 113.000 USD (and counting) to become parents if we didn't firmly believe that we were up to the challenge… And yes, of course, we're coping. What's there to cope with? (See answer to question 1…)

While the physical aspects of taking care of a child are easy enough, the psychological and emotional ones are a different story. Not that it is difficult. How can anyone NOT love and adore a child looking at you like this?

HOWEVER, the challenges lie elsewhere. To me, it's thoughts about family, mortality and the future that really get me thinking. My son has three “biological” grandparents alive: my dad, my mom and my mother-in-law. The latter, however, has already decided she won't be a part in her grandson's life, since she apparently “walks badly.” She's a bad case of sociopath and neither my husband nor I were surprised at her bailing out on Sascha… My mother has been
reduced to a sentient vegetable by her Alzheimer's
and will not play a part in Sascha's life as she forgets her grandson the second he disappears from her retina. Leaving my father who is trying hard to play an active role in his grandson's life, a grandson he never thought he'd have. Being the father of two gay sons born in the sixties, the prospect of becoming a grandfather was, until a few years ago, slim to nonexistent… However, thanks to the rapid social changes in Europe, “slim” was all it took!

Like every parent, I worry about my son's future. I worry about his education, how many master's degrees he'll need to compete in a globalized labor market with students from Asia, which languages I should teach him, what values to pass on, how to raise him to make sure he'll be successful, happy and living a rich and fulfilled life (the way he wants, not me!) Every generation is different, and while mine oftentimes relied (and still does) on our parents, the most successful generation ever, we may not be able to support our kids the way we were supported as the economy has made our lives significantly different than those of the baby boomers. We will never be as well off as our parents, and we may need different ways to support our kids than a checkbook. On average, we're also a great deal older than our parents when we have our kids. My dad was 26 when I was born. I'm 20 years older… Needless to say that I'll be a VERY old man by the time I have grandkids, if ever. It's a gift, not a right… I may be more mature, I may be better able to cope with the adversities of life (and the stupidity of my surrounding), but there are also certain physical limitations that my father didn't have to worry about, like yesterday's first lumbago ever…

I look at my son sleep, and I wonder if it is wise to provide him with a sibling, so that his journey through life may be less solitary, but what if they don't get along? I think about the end of my life, just as I watch my mother wither away and my dad's health deteriorating. Who will look after me when I'm old? Given how miserably society looks after our old today, I seriously doubt the state will be better equipped forty or fifty years from now. Is it okay to expect (or even consider) your children to look after you in our old days or should we merely rely on our insurances and the hopes of enough savings to pay for the cost?

I look at my son, barely 60 cm, 5.525 kg at the last weigh-in, and I wonder how much responsibility can I expect to place upon his shoulders, what is fair, what is realistic, and why on earth am I worrying about all this now?

The answer is quite simple: because I have the time, and because it is what parents do. Before we play and smile with our children again, feed them, and change them...

Here's an image that propelled my
blog to some amazing numbers last year
. I guess a little skin never hurts, even if it's only a GIF, and people like it, so what the heck, I do… LOL.