Denny Smith just knew.
It was something about how Marie Wadman and
Julie Ginsburg held themselves. It was the way
they spoke, the way they looked. He spotted them
at a meeting and felt absolutely sure --
instantaneously -- they were The Ones.
Five years later, Smith, who is gay, and the
women, a lesbian couple, are raising two
children together. Lucy, who's 3 and loves pink
and hates wearing shoes, and Callum, a
boisterous 1-year-old, live with their moms in a
cheerful Victorian in Oakland. Smith, the
biological father of both children, lives a few
blocks away and takes the kids two days a week
-- "daddy days."
All three consider themselves full parents
and together they make decisions about
schedules, holidays, doctors, religion,
education and visits from six grandparents.
"I really loved them right away and I still
love them," Smith said of his instant attraction
to the moms, which he likened to cruising in a
straight bar. "We have a great, great
situation."
As the stigma against gay parenting erodes
and more people take the baby plunge, the number
of gay men and lesbians joining forces to
co-parent is growing.
Though these kinds of creative families have
existed for years, the increase is being driven
by online resources, the enthusiastic example of
co-parents and a greater willingness on the part
of gays and lesbians to look beyond the nuclear
family as a model.
The common denominator is that mothers and
fathers are both involved in child-rearing, but
the families come in various combinations of
singles and couples and share parenting in a
rainbow of ways.
"It's increasing by the week," said Stephanie
Brill, an author of two gay parenting books and
founder of an East Bay midwifery center.
Brill consults with families before
preconception about everything from fertility to
parenting agreements. When she went into
business 12 years ago, prospective co-parents
sought her help roughly once a month. Last week
alone, she spoke with six sets of co-parents --
four from the Bay Area and two from other parts
of the country.
"Ten years ago such family arrangements were
very rare, largely because parenting by lesbians
or gay men was really just starting to be a very
serious and widely practiced option," said Kate
Kendell, executive director of the legal
organization National Center for Lesbian Rights.
Initially, she said, "I think many of us
modeled a more traditional family structure.
Over time ... many parents have exercised
different options that give them and their child
a wider network of support."
Co-parents can conceive at home at no cost --
with technology no more sophisticated than a
syringe or a large eyedropper -- which opens the
door to people who can't afford adoption,
surrogacy or other high-tech fertility options,
Brill said. "And more and more men are stepping
up to the plate," she said. "This is where we're
going to see the change."
Smith met the lesbian mothers of his dreams
at a co-parenting matchmaking group in San
Francisco called Prospective Queer Parents.
Since the group was founded in 1991, about 15
sets of co-parents have found each other at the
monthly meetings.
Smith usually has his "daddy days" on
Wednesdays and Saturdays. One recent morning, he
rang the doorbell at Wadman and Ginsburg's
house. Callum jumped into his arms. Smith kissed
him over and over.
"Little man, you look cute today," he said.
Ginsburg, 35, stuffed a bag while they spoke.
Cal had a rash from blueberries. Did they need
swimsuits? What time would they be back?
Finally the kids were buckled into their car
seats and they were off to the playground in
Alameda. "Bye babies," said Wadman, 42, waving
from the sidewalk.
Smith is 52. He didn't feel ready for kids in
his 20s or 30s, and now sometimes looks
enviously at younger parents who will be in
their prime when their children are adults.
"This is where not being 32 comes in," he said,
as he climbed to the top of the slide.
Smith had been looking for co-parents for
years before he fell for Wadman and Ginsburg. He
arranged to have coffee with the women at Cafe
Flore in the Castro. They liked each other, so
they agreed to meet each other's best friends
and families to "rule out the ax-murderer
scenario," Smith said.
They wrote out a contract -- one they haven't
had to refer to yet -- addressing basic issues,
such as how they would resolve conflicts.
Four months after meeting, they began trying
to conceive. As they'd planned, Wadman gave
birth to Lucy and then Ginsburg had Callum.
Only Smith and the biological mother appear
on the birth certificates -- the law only allows
for two names -- but in every other way they
consider themselves a three-parent family.
Ginsburg, who stays at home with the kids,
said she and Wadman, a tattoo artist, wanted
their children to have a male figure in their
lives.
"I'm adopted and I always thought it would be
important to have knowledge of your biological
family," Ginsburg said. "Parenting isn't what I
expected, so co-parenting isn't either. Both are
more intense than I expected. I think I have a
warmer feeling and more of a sense that Denny is
a part of our family than I might have
conceptualized."
It doesn't evolve so smoothly for everyone.
Making important decisions when three or four
people are involved can be tricky and tedious.
But before parents get to that stage, they must
undergo the often excruciating hunt for the
right partner with whom to forge this lifelong
bond.
Prospective parents typically find each other
through friends, newspaper advertisements,
meetings or online listings. Many describe years
of fruitless searching, near-misses and mishaps
such as miscarriages or infertility.
John Maimone, a 37-year-old San Franciscan,
eventually gave up. He had a thrilling
"courtship" with one woman, but she dropped him
when they got around to talking about specifics.
Many women are fixed on having the lion's share
of responsibility, Maimone said, and that's not
what he wants. Now he's looking to adopt through
surrogacy.
Daniel Owens, who has a 3- and 6-year-old
with a lesbian couple, said that after his
partner died of AIDS in 1994, he asked himself
hard questions about what he wanted to do with
his life. "I wanted something pulling me into
the future," he said.
When he met the children's future moms, it
was an all-out "love fest," he said. They moved
ahead quickly -- in retrospect, too quickly --
and didn't put anything down on paper until
after conception. They finally did sign an
agreement, but only after lawyers got involved.
They're all satisfied with their arrangement
now, Owens said, but it was an agonizing process
because he felt then that he wasn't getting what
he wanted. "It was a very painful, painful time
and it was not good for the pregnant mother," he
said.
Legally, co-parenting arrangements occupy
confusing in-between ground. Traditionally,
contracts between adults can't create or negate
parenthood, said Deborah Ward, an attorney who
specializes in nontraditional families.
Ten years ago, co-parenting contracts --
which can spell out everything from religion to
baby announcements -- weren't considered legally
binding. But surrogacy has thrown case law into
question, and Ward now advises clients to take
the contracts seriously.
In general, the law hasn't caught up with how
families are being made in the 21st century,
Ward said. "The biggest hurdle to these types of
nontraditional families is that the courts are
pretty stuck on the number two," she said.
Some California judges have granted
third-party adoptions, which extend parenting
rights to a third person. But most judges don't
look kindly on them, arguing that they don't
want to set up a child for a three-way custody
battle, Ward said.
The domestic partner bill that goes into
effect in California in January only muddies the
legal waters. Under the new law, children born
into a domestic partnership will be treated the
same as a child of a marriage. But it's unlikely
that will clear the way for legal three-parent
families, Ward said.
In light of the legal uncertainties, good
communication and honesty -- the same elements
that make for successful marriages -- are
critical, co-parents said.
"We certainly have a lot of trust and faith
in each other," Ginsburg said. "We know the kids
are safe. We feel he's caring well for them and
he feels we're caring well for them."
When acquaintances learn of their family's
arrangement, the reaction often amounts to,
"Huh?" she said.
But "then they think about it and in a way,
it makes a lot of sense," Ginsburg said. "It's
an extended family that we're creating."
If their other extended families were thrown
for a loop, they have long since gotten over it.
"I really credit my parents for hanging in
there with new ideas," Smith said. "When we all
got over the strangeness, they realized what a
wonderful thing it is. They have two more
grandchildren and I get to be a dad."