My Very First!

This morning as I was taking my corgi Windsor for her walk, the doorman of my building, a man named Reggie with a ready smile that makes every day start off just a bit better, wished me a “Happy Father’s Day.”

I knew this day was today, but to hear it aloud still filled me with a sense of joy, mixed with a dose of “WTF am I doing?”

“I’ve got my hands full,” I managed to respond with a chuckle, which was both true and a deflection. Reggie brought me back.

“In the best way, in the best way,” he said, eyes twinkling.

It’s my very first Father’s Day, and that feels like an important milestone. To be candid, raising two infants in today’s America as a gay, single dad feels a bit like “joy” mixed with “WTF,” “hands full” and “in the best way.”

There are the moments you expect, like when the hospital forms and staff presume a mom and a dad, or at least two parents. When you admit, “No, it’s just me….” you get used to the reactions, ranging from “Oh, wow…” to an often too-quick “You’re doing great!”

There are the moments you don’t expect, like when you have to consider the state abortion laws of your next surrogate after the first pregnancy ends in a heart-wrenching D&C procedure. Or when a text pops up a day after you land in Beijing to settle the last of your Ma’s affairs, and you learn your baby is arriving five-and-a-half weeks early and you need to get on the next possible flight back!

There are the moments of sheer wonder, like when Riley first said, “Hi, Dada!” Or when you catch an amazing first smile, which baby Ronan managed after a rough start in the NICU and two months of very audible distress at nearly everything.

And there are the moments of contemplation, which can sometimes feel like so much daydreaming, as you consider all the things you want to teach them, the ways you want to nourish their bodies and spirits, and the dangers you want to shield them from, even as you weigh the resilience they’ll need to build through encountering the world in all its facets.

I’ve also had to answer another question from family, friends and readers here that didn’t exist even a year ago: Aren’t you afraid the regime will come for you? What about your kids, if they do?

No parent should have to make contingency plans for this, but they’re in place for me, rest assured. And in immigrant families across the U.S., dads and moms and grandparents are making similar plans, having similar discussions with family, and sometimes with lawyers. What happens if Daddy or Mommy get taken away?

My own fears and concerns for my kids, should anything happen to me, is a small window into what so many other families are going through daily now. Seen another way, it’s an incredible honor to do the kind of work that puts myself even a bit between those families and the dangers that now stalk them.

It’s my first Father’s Day, and it’s already the role of a lifetime. Happy Father’s Day to all the other dads out there! My own Ba, gone from us now nearly 11 years, taught me pretty much everything I ever needed to become a good father to my children.

I hope I’m doing you proud, Ba.

I’ll see you back here tomorrow with commentary on the big events of this weekend.

Jay (aka Ba to my own kids now!)