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Half of a lifetime

December 5, 2019 by Poornima Manco

Today is a pretty significant day in my life. I haven’t tom-tommed about it everywhere, in fact not even my nearest and dearest know, but I have been thinking about it all day long. Today marks exactly half my life of being in Britain. This was the first day, all those years ago, that I entered the United Kingdom with a work visa in my hand, stars in my eyes and trepidation in my heart.

It was meant to be temporary, no more than three years and then I would’ve transferred to Hong Kong. Three years seemed like a very long time, but here I am, more than two decades later and it seems to have gone in the blink of an eye.

I am a naturalised British citizen now and very proud of the fact too. However, somewhere within me, an umbilical cord still binds me to my birthplace. I miss the seasons, the colours, the clothes, the food and most of all, my family and friends who still remain in India. However, Britain has given me so much as well. I have my own family here, I have many friends, my job, my hobbies, the freedom to be who I want to be, to reinvent myself, to be fearless and experimental, all of these are boons granted to me by this land.

I cannot lie though and say that everything has been smooth sailing. Adopting a new country as your own and adapting to its culture and norms can be quite terrifying. Even being fluent in English wasn’t enough at times, because my accent wasn’t right. The Indians here weren’t like the Indians in India, and I had to learn a new subset of behaviours and beliefs. Similarly, with the Britons, I had to understand that it could take years before acceptance and true assimilation could occur.

In all of this, I have learned to grow, to evolve, to change that which needed changing and hold on to that which I refused to change. My value system is Indian and will continue to be so, but my outlook has broadened enough to see the fault lines in what I left behind.

What would I consider myself today? An Anglicised Indian? I think not. The world is shrinking at a breathtaking pace. Not in terms of geography, but certainly in terms of connectivity. I am fortunate enough to have travelled to many parts of the globe, and if there’s one thing I can say confidently, it is this: I find myself falling in step with a country and a culture almost seamlessly, even if the language, currency, food and features are palpably alien.

Hence, even though I detest labels, the one I would most identify with at this point, is that of a global citizen. A hokey sentiment? Maybe. But one that feels most true to who I am today.

All those years ago, when I left home to pursue my career ambitions, I had no idea where I would end up and what I would end up doing. In twenty-odd years, I have lived a life I could only have dreamed of. A life filled with love, laughter, happiness, sorrow, career highs and career lows. I have been delighted to discover some wonderful facets to myself and been equally dismayed to find that I am also chock full of flaws. I have become a wife and a mother, I have become a teacher and a writer. I have travelled the world and I have retreated into superlative books.

If I am fortunate enough to have another few decades of life left on this planet, then all I could ask for, with humility and gratitude, is more of the same.

Filed Under: 2019, acceptance, adventure, Age, author, behaviour, Blog, Britain, career, change, culture, displacement, dream, foreigner, immigrant, success, support, values

My unlikely journey to fatherhood – André Hellström

March 4, 2019 by Poornima Manco

I started having the first stirrings of the paternal instinct when I was volunteering, taking care of a 10 year old boy with autism, through the National Autistic Society. I saw ‘Joel’ once a week for two years and although he had difficulties building relationships with others, we connected very well. Being with Joel, I realised I wanted to be a dad.

I can only compare the paternal instinct with the feelings of realising that I was gay- they are very strong and there is no going back.

I believe one of the most important things in life is to help others, so helping a loving lesbian couple wanting a family became very important to me. I was reluctant to donate to a sperm bank as donating to a sperm bank is anonymous and I’ve always been adamant that a child needs to know where he/she is coming from. I was also very close to my grandmother, she was my everything and I wanted her legacy to live through me. I found a lesbian couple from a website called Pride Angel where female couples are looking for donors. I knew straight away that they were the mums I was looking for. We bonded very quickly but it was still a long journey towards building trust. After all, we were about to create another human being.

I tried getting both mums pregnant through artificial insemination. One mum got pregnant after four tries. The following nine months waiting for the baby felt like nine years! It was endless! And full of worries! I was worried that the baby wouldn’t survive. I was worried that our child would be bullied and resent us for putting him or her into this kind of family. Now, looking back at some of those worries, I feel silly. I worried too much. We live in multi cultural London and what’s a ‘normal’ family today anyway? Our baby was planned and with so much love and trust behind it.

Nevertheless, a lot of thoughts went through my mind and I felt very lonely during the pregnancy. The mums had each other but not many of my gay friends could relate to my paternal instincts. I had no one to talk to when I was worried, or overwhelmingly excited about having a child! But I did talk to the mums a lot. In fact, we cried and laughed with happiness during the whole pregnancy. As the belly grew, the more we understood the magnitude of what we had done! Of course, ALL children are small miracles but somehow we selfishly felt that our baby was just a tad more special…

Our son Enzo was born in the year 2014. The mums sent me a photo of them holding our newborn son and I felt beyond happy! And the relief. I was relieved that Enzo was healthy, I was relieved (and proud) that I had pursued my dream of wanting to help a lesbian couple in having a child. It had taken four years from my initial feeling of wanting to be a dad until Enzo was born. I felt a sense of inner peace, like a puzzle had been finished. By helping others, we also help ourselves.

After Enzo’s birth, it was going to take about two weeks to organise the birth certificate. Our agreement was that the mothers would be on the birth certificate but during the first two weeks there was a possibility that I could change my mind… By not being on the birth certificate, I would, as a consequence, lose all legal rights to my own son… The mothers knew I could change my mind so we had initially agreed that I wouldn’t see Enzo the first two weeks. However, as we had grown so close during the pregnancy, the new mums couldn’t wait for me to see him and to be honest, it would’ve been torture not to. So the next day I went to their home.

Therese was sleeping on the bed holding Enzo, both exhausted after the birth. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I’m not religious but this was somehow a religious experience. I can’t really describe it but I’m sure I felt the presence of my grandmother there. Therese woke up and handed Enzo to me saying ‘Please hold your son’. Remember again that she knew that I could change my mind, so really, she was playing with fire. I actually didn’t want to hold him at first because I was terrified that my heart would break handing him back to Hilda and Therese.

Therese sensed my worry and she simply said ‘You will be OK André’, so I took Enzo in my arms and just like that, I felt like I had been a father all my life! Enzo grabbed my finger and although a baby can’t see, he did somehow react to my presence. It was an instant bond. After a few hours I left their house and believe me, this was the time when my human instincts played with me. It was as if my entire being knew Enzo was my son and wanted to go back to him. Even more interesting considering I’m gay, I felt very protective about Therese, the birthmother. The immense love I felt for her was so strong. I felt like a lion king! Having said that, I never want to downplay the love I have for Hilda but at that very moment, my focus was on Therese and Enzo.

Having no say in the upbringing of my own child isn’t an easy thing to live with. But when it’s hard, I just focus on why I did it; to help a couple in love to have a family. Legally Hilda and Therese are parents to Enzo. My son will, however, call me daddy and will always know I’m his dad. Nonetheless my role is more like an uncle who is there to provide the love, but has no say in the rules.

This can prove difficult as, although I am not a  part of bringing Enzo up, I still have to love my son unconditionally for the rest of my life – even if he turns out to be a spoiled brat! And yes, the mothers do spoil him while I definitely would be more strict. I bite my tongue a lot. I have voiced my opinion two to three times when I just didn’t feel comfortable with the whole situation. Telling a parent how to raise their kids is not something I recommend, especially when it comes from a very direct person like me… But the mothers ‘get me’ and understand my directness and sometimes, bluntness. I don’t mean any harm, it is just how I’m wired.

Thankfully I have learned to choose my battles, both in my role as a ‘donor daddy’ and in my ‘outside life’. I think all parents learn to choose their battles, otherwise parenthood would be too exhausting. Being a dad changed my life for the better. Having said that, being a full time dad wouldn’t be for me, as selfish as that might sound. What’s important to say is, that all human beings are on a journey through life, we all have our ups and downs and although becoming a dad made me feel complete, it doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Just as I tell other gays that want to become fathers, being a ‘donor dad’ is not for everyone. I followed my heart and what felt good to me. I will never tell anyone else what’s right for them.

The mothers, who initially just wanted a donor and not an involved donor chose a more difficult path. Let’s face it, having me in their life does make things slightly more complicated. They do have to see me and include me in big holidays etc. And for that reason alone I love the mothers so much. All three of us are in this journey together.

Enzo is a copy of me, it’s as if my DNA has gone straight down to him. But this helps the mothers, and me, to understand him more. One example, Enzo is not very good in groups. He’s very independent and sometimes even quite selfish… He hates sharing. So in the nursery when all kids sit in a circle singing songs, he’s not the slightest bit interested. I was there in the nursery once and saw this. I was a quite upset that he didn’t want to join the group and socialise. I could see the teachers trying to include him but his stubbornness wouldn’t have it. Suddenly it was like a ‘deja vu’ from my own childhood, I was exactly the same! So being a dad sure brings up memories from my own time as a kid that I had forgotten about.

In 2016 our second son Levi was born. To have TWO sons was more than I could ever have dreamt of. Enzo being Enzo wasn’t as excited as he sure didn’t like the competition. It didn’t help that Levi had colic for 3 months. The family’s life was pretty much turned upside down with a constantly screaming baby for that long.

I’m not sure I should even mention this but I will since it’s quite a ‘taboo’ subject. When Levi was born I didn’t bond with him in the same way. Yes, once again I felt like a lion king but I somehow didn’t feel the same immense connection with him. It made me feel very very guilty. I loved Enzo so much and didn’t think there was room for more love. But then my stepmom said something beautiful, ‘It’s not like you have to fit more love, it’s as if another room opens that you can fill with love’. That stayed with me, and it’s so true. I do love Levi so so much but I have to admit, even though he’s 2.5 years old now, he still doesn’t adore me in the same way as Enzo has always done. I, of course, do love them both equally, but Enzo feels very close to me.

I certainly don’t want to favour one of them over the other. That would make me a terrible dad! As time goes on, I’m learning how to handle my feelings. There’s no ‘manual’  on how to be a ‘donor dad’ and as mentioned before, I can feel quite lonely in my situation since most of my friends, and even some family members, show no interest whatsoever. That, in itself, hurts tremendously but this is ultimately MY journey and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Being a donor dad was MY choice and I love it.

Life is all about choices and whatever we choose, let us choose well…

 

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My name is André and I was born in Sweden. When I was five years old my mum took me to the island of Crete in Greece. I remember seeing the Boeing 737 knowing from that day that I was going to work on an airplane. It was my driving force throughout my whole childhood, I couldn’t wait to get out and see the world! After college I worked as a holiday rep all over Europe and then I worked as a concierge on a top rated cruise line. On board Crystal Harmony I saw the whole world and although it was hard work, I sure lived my dream. 1997 I felt it was time to change the ocean for the air and I was hired by United Airlines. It might not have the glamour it had when I flew to Crete in 1974 but even after 22 years as a flight attendant, I still get a buzz during every take off- I truly love my job and the airline industry! I use the time off and flexibility to challenge myself outside work and I do that by travelling or doing volunteer work. I love living in London. It’s like living in the centre of the world, I love the mix of different nationalities and religions. This city surely has been very good to me.

Filed Under: 2019, acceptance, beauty, Blog, change, child, communication, culture, dignity, discrimination, donor dad, dream, empathy, experience, family, fatherhood, gay man, guest blog month, Guest blogger, identity, inspirational, lesbian mother, life, love, nurture, opinion, optimism, parental instinct, parenthood, progress, respect, social constructs, Stories, story, support, unusual journey

Just a thought…

May 20, 2014 by Poornima Manco

This is a short one with a simple query. Why are women, women’s own worst enemies?

I have seen the sort of networking that carries on between men. The old boys club exists the world over. Undoubtedly, men can be competitive, jealous and eager to get ahead at any cost too. But very rarely does one see the kind of pettiness that women can exhibit towards their own kind.

This strange one-upmanship from houses to spouses, from careers to children, from figures to four wheels, is a disturbing phenomena. Why can’t we, as women, be supportive and nurturing towards one another? Why do we have to put another down to feel good about oneself?

Isn’t life, the world, and the other sex hard enough on us, without us compounding the problem?

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Filed Under: Blog, jealousy, nurture, support, Uncategorized, women

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