Two dads and a dream

Little fact about us this week:

We’ve gotten to the stage where our house plants no longer die. So, we’ve started referring to them as our ‘practice children’. I’d say that’s progress!

Our photo:

Sam, rocking a pram with one of Gary’s godson’s (Charlie), and hold Gary’s other godson’s hand (Louie). And people say we’re not ready. And yes, the mothers were BOTH present; we were all just behind the camera.

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Amongst all the navigating of the logistics of IVF, approvals, egg profiles, and our ever continuing legal maze-running, we’ve often asked ourselves a very common question: what even is a parent?

Like, really. What makes someone a parent?
Is it the DNA? Birth certificates? Who does the most nappy changes?
Emotional availability and a working knowledge of baby-led weaning?

There are plenty of answers floating around, some helpful and some less so. But at its core, we’re learning that parenting isn’t a job title you’re given (even if you choose it). It’s a role you grow into.

As the age old expression goes, no one ever gives you a book that teaches you how to parent. No one gives you lessons. And no amount of courses will ever make you the best parent ever.

What we are learning in this journey is showing up for someone long before they arrive. And what’s even better, we have a record right here for our little person when they do arrive to show them how much we thought about them before they even existed.

Everyone’s got an opinion, some louder than others

Here’s something they don’t tell you when you start this journey: the world loves to tell you how to parent. Like really loves it. Total strangers will weigh in on what your feeding schedules should look like, different discipline techniques, how much screen time is enough, and whether you should be using a sheepskin pram liner or risk your baby growing up emotionally stunted.

Sometimes it’s well-meaning. Sometimes it’s nosy. Sometimes it’s a bizarre mix of the two delivered over brunch. But honestly? We’ve learned to take it all with a grain of salt (and sometimes a margarita (*waiting for someone to be triggered “oh but you can’t drink when you’re a parent”*)). Because parenting isn’t a one-size-fits-all formula. What works for your best friend’s cousin’s neighbour’s Pilates instructor’s child might not work for ours. And that’s okay.

As for the two-dad situation, it’s surprising that even in the 21st century and as the world’s ‘smartest’ species, people still have an opinion; whether they say it out loud or not.

“Oh but will they miss having a mum?”
“Who’s going to do the, you know, nurturing?”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” (No Brenda, but were you?)

Now, why is this important? And more importantly, why is Gary ranting about it? (maybe I’m the one who’s triggered, but hey, I bought receipts).

Turns out, society often does treat gay dads differently to gay mums, lesbian couples, and even single dads. And that perception can shape how people talk to you or about you.

A 2020 study published in Frontiers in Psychology found that gay fathers reported experiencing homonegative microaggressions more frequently than lesbian mothers or heterosexual parents. These experiences of stigma were also linked to lower perceived parenting competence (Gato et al., 2020).

But perhaps most reassuringly, a 2024 meta-analysis published in Sexuality Research and Social Policy found that children raised by gay dads had psychological outcomes that were just as good and sometimes even better than those raised by heterosexual parents. So much for the tired myth that dads can’t parent as well (Mazza et al., 2024).

Ultimately though, it lines up with decades of research showing that family processes like warmth, stability, communication and not family structure are what really influence a kiddo’s wellbeing.

Queer parenting: honestly not just a vibe, it’s a super power

Now we’re not saying that any other form parenting isn’t a super power. In our eyes, every parent is a super parent with a super power. Kids are hard. Not can be, they are absolutely 100% hard work. Having friends with kids at all stages of life, even the ones that had a pretty easy time when their kids were well…babies…are now struggling with the Rise of the Teenager.

But, there is something special about going through this journey as a queer couple though. We’re writing our own script. And in doing so, we’re asking our first questions that go way deeper than “what kind of car seat should we buy?” or “what colour should we paint the nursery?”

We’re thinking about representation. About visibility. About what it means to grow up with two dads in a world that still pumps collateral about families that are a bit more “standard issue.”

We’re talking about how we’ll raise a child who understands love in all its forms. Who knows that families can be made in a thousand different ways, and that none of them are lesser just because they’re not the norm.

And we’re also learning how to answer awkward questions like “Which one of you is the real dad?” with grace, humour, and maybe just a touch of sarcasm.

Not all parents are built the same

There’s no universal definition of what makes a good parent. But for us, the essentials are starting to take shape; not as a checklist, but as a rhythm we hope to live by.

It looks like emotional availability, even when we’re running on low sleep and high caffeine. It’s the willingness to Google everything at 2am, from “how to burp a baby” to “why does my toddler smell like cheese.” It’s being able to laugh at yourself (and each other), while trying to change a nappy mid-carpool karaoke. It’s showing up, even when you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, or freshly sneezed on.

We want to be the kind of parents who raise a kid that feels seen. That knows they were wanted. That understands the value of kindness, consent, boundaries, and belly laughs. That grows up with two dads who are far from perfect but who are trying, always, to do the work.

It’s about knowing when to ask for help and letting our kid be weird (and with Sam and I as their dads – odds are they’ll be delightful weirdos). It’s about respecting their emotions, even when those emotions are screamed at full volume in the middle of Woolies (a challenge this will be). It’s holding space for big feelings, little wins, and every meltdown in between.

It’s finding the balance between structure and spontaneity (which, let’s be honest, will depend entirely on Gary’s caffeine levels). It’s modelling kindness even when you’ve only had four hours of sleep and you’re trying not to step on DUPLO .

It’s embracing the chaos of a house that looks like a nappy bomb’s gone off which also took out the toy box. It’s scrolling Tik Tok and Instagram reels while folding onesies and calling it “me time”.

It’s understanding that Bluey, The Wiggles, Coco Melon, and Peppa Pig episodes are basically emotional resilience training for adults. It’s practising your “we’re not mad, just disappointed” face for the inevitable day your toddler finger-paints the walls with a trendy ‘limestone wash’ of their faeces because you turned around to fetch a diaper for two seconds.

And it’s being the kind of parents our kid will one day proudly introduce at school, even if, in that moment, our full-time job is chief snack distributor and emotional support dad. Though let’s be realistic, this is more likely in primary than in secondary school. Initiation into teenage-hood includes graduating from a pseudo taxi-driver school, but without gratuity.

This isn’t about ticking off milestones or getting it right. It’s about staying open, intentional, and a little bit silly. Because if our future child grows up feeling loved, seen, safe, and occasionally subjected to dad jokes, we’ll call that a win.

Growing into it and a note to our future child.

Truth is, we don’t think becoming a parent is a single moment. Sure, there are milestones like positive pregnancy tests, birth certificates, and court approvals. But we think it starts before that. With every decision, every conversation, every “what kind of humans do we want to raise” chat over dinner.

We’re becoming parents in the way we protect this process. In how we talk about our future child. In the way we’re building a village around them before they’ve even arrived. In how we hope they will view their pre-existence, their existence, and even their future families.

We’re growing into it. Day by day. Choice by choice.

So, if and when you’re reading this one day and understand half of what we’re saying (hi, baby bean), we want you to know: we’ve been showing up for you since long before you existed. We’ve made spreadsheets and cried over donor profiles. We’ve navigated awkward doctor visits, psychologists that make you cry, and ‘management’ panels that decided our fitness to be parents like we’re some show pony. We’ve debated which cartoon character best represents our future co-parenting dynamic which statistically it’s likely that Gary will be Marlin and Sam will be Dory (GASP – shocking, I know. Also, if we haven’t shown you Finding Nemo yet, we’ve failed already).

We’ve asked ourselves hard questions. We’ve answered even harder ones. And we’ve tried to lead every part of this journey with honesty, intention, and love.

So… the ultimate question that we ask ourselves, and in the future you might ask yourself….what even is a parent?

Maybe it’s not just who raises you. Maybe it’s who chooses you – daily, intentionally, even when it’s hard. Maybe it’s two men who are messy, madly in love, and determined to give you a life filled with support, dad jokes, and aggressively themed birthday parties.

If that’s what it means to be a parent, heck even a family, then we’re (yes including you our future baby bean) are already there.

Well, that’s all folks. See you next week for the next one!

Still dreaming, still spiralling, and still more prepared than Centrelink on a Monday.

Love,

Gary & Sam 🐨🍼📄

P.S. Yes, I know this post was late – sorry life’s a little busy this week 🙂 Back on Tuesday next week!