The beginning...
I’m about to become a mother. A specific type of mother. To use the correct terminology, I’m about to become a non-gestational, non-biological mum. Catchy, isn’t it?
In reality, what this means is I am not related to the baby that my wife is carrying. But the situation differs from adoption a little, insofar as I will be on my child’s birth certificate from day one, I have been there since conception (well technically neither of us were there, but more on that later), and I have known that this was on the cards since way back when my wife and I sat in the clinic for our first consultation.
For a while, at least, it didn’t look like things would pan out this way. Inseminations, IVF, adoption evenings – we’ve done it all and have a selection of branded items to prove it. But it worked, even though I feel quite nervous about writing this. Things can go wrong. Things don’t work out. That small person might not be okay… I guess this is the drop in the tide before the tsunami of parental fear washes in.
But, when I look around me I don’t see anyone else who fits my situation. I have friends who are parents. I have friends who have a child in similar circumstances, but neither of them are biologically related. I have friends who have children where the father isn’t related, having come on the scene much later. Straight. Gay. And all the colours in between. But family is fluid, and boundaries are there to be moved. And we will be a little family, and soon.
So as a way of processing this situation, I’m keeping notes. I don’t know where this will go or what this will become (both the blog and life in general). But sometimes the rhythmic taps of a keyboard help me to understand a subject. Putting it up on the internet means I might find others with insights of their own, or perhaps this will sit somewhere unvisited until the day that, sleep-deprived and desperate, I try to remember what life was like before I became a mum.
In reality, what this means is I am not related to the baby that my wife is carrying. But the situation differs from adoption a little, insofar as I will be on my child’s birth certificate from day one, I have been there since conception (well technically neither of us were there, but more on that later), and I have known that this was on the cards since way back when my wife and I sat in the clinic for our first consultation.
For a while, at least, it didn’t look like things would pan out this way. Inseminations, IVF, adoption evenings – we’ve done it all and have a selection of branded items to prove it. But it worked, even though I feel quite nervous about writing this. Things can go wrong. Things don’t work out. That small person might not be okay… I guess this is the drop in the tide before the tsunami of parental fear washes in.
But, when I look around me I don’t see anyone else who fits my situation. I have friends who are parents. I have friends who have a child in similar circumstances, but neither of them are biologically related. I have friends who have children where the father isn’t related, having come on the scene much later. Straight. Gay. And all the colours in between. But family is fluid, and boundaries are there to be moved. And we will be a little family, and soon.
So as a way of processing this situation, I’m keeping notes. I don’t know where this will go or what this will become (both the blog and life in general). But sometimes the rhythmic taps of a keyboard help me to understand a subject. Putting it up on the internet means I might find others with insights of their own, or perhaps this will sit somewhere unvisited until the day that, sleep-deprived and desperate, I try to remember what life was like before I became a mum.
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