My Unusual Path to Gay Parenthood
As a single gay man, having a kid with my friend seemed like a great idea. But when our daughter arrived, I wondered whether planning to be a part-time dad was fair to her.
Photos courtesy Stewart Lewis
I was about to turn 36, sitting in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, wondering about the next stage of my life, when I noticed a father and daughter walking under a line of trees together. They had a similar gait, their figures turning into silhouettes in the fading afternoon light. An emotional wave washed over me, and I started crying, right there on the bench next to an old Chinese lady reading the paper. Was there a male biological clock? Was there a gay male biological clock? If there was, my alarm was going off. I’d had some professional success in my 30s, a second novel published, a record deal. Fatherhood now felt possible. I could make it work. I could watch a part of myself grow, love and impart wisdom on a little creature who would surprise me and make me laugh and challenge me. A child would be a way to make better sense of my life, to become a better man. I had always imagined what it would be like to be called “Dad.” The only thing that was nagging a…