Growing Gracefully- Infancy (2/?)
Title: Growing Gracefully
Pairings: USUK
Rating: T
Warnings: Mentions of sexual situations and an OC
Summary: Alfred and Arthur tackle parenthood, and so much more. (Hospital Flowers sequel.)
This chapter: The infant months for Grace and her dads.
"Here she is. Your little girl," cooed the nurse. Fateful words that changed our lives forever.
The nurse came into the waiting room, holding a small bundle in a green blanket. I remember thinking to myself later that it was odd Grace was wrapped in a green cloth, not pink as was traditional. I brushed that aside and became infatuated with the tiny baby in the nurse's arms.
Alfred and I jumped up, standing on shaky legs. On instinct, I put my arms out so the nurse could give Grace to me. She was a red and pudgy baby that put up a little bit of fight at being held. Her eyes cracked open, having only been out of the womb for only a few hours, and then focused on me. They were green, only a tad darker than my own.
"Oh God," I breathed. "She's… She's beautiful."
Alfred was mute in shock, quietly inspecting her. He slowly reached a finger down to touch her small hand. She wasn't of age to grip, but she looked at Alfred in recognition, and Alfred knew he was a dad from that moment on. She looked at me, and I knew too.
"Hi Grace," Alfred whispered as if afraid to scare her. Her eyes flickered back to Alfred. "Hi… I'm your daddy… And I will always love you…"
I smiled tenderly at Alfred, feeling myself fall in love with him all over again. The man had always been good with children, but this was different. He was different. Grace was our baby. He had to be careful of everything he did now. Then again, so did I.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked suddenly. She had moved to the counter nearby with a pen and paper at the ready; Grace's birth certificate.
"Grace shall be her first name and Marie her middle name," I started, but paused. Her last name had been an issue Alfred and I hadn't settled on; Kirkland or Jones?
Alfred met my hesitant gaze, and then finally said, "Kirkland-Jones is her last name."
I leaned upwards to kiss Alfred on the cheek. He smiled at me, returning the kiss, and then dipping down to kiss Grace on her fat baby cheeks. I snuggled my nose into her soft belly. The nurse turned to leave after congratulating us. We had only a few minutes with her before she was to be taken back to her mother for feeding. I managed to catch the nurse before she left.
"Ma'am." The nurse stopped to look at me. "May I inquire as to her mother…? How old is she?"
"…She's sixteen," the nurse replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot give any more information other than that. You can stay with Grace for a little while longer, but she will have to go back to her mother for a few more days."
I nodded in understanding. We were allowed visitation rights until the hospital deemed it okay for the newborn to be taken from her mother, forever. We had offered to allow the mother to stay in Grace's life, but the girl had turned us down. Alfred had voiced aloud his hundreds of scenarios as to the girl's reasons for giving up the baby- shame, no money, too young, or a combination of the three- but we never knew any solid reason. The winner was "too young", and suddenly I felt disgusting.
I clutched Grace closer to my chest as I ducked my head down. The nurse left us alone for a little while. Alfred sat beside me and put a hand on my leg.
"Sweetheart," he started with a soft tone. "We're doing the right thing. So is the mom. It'll be okay. In time you'll see. This was the right thing to do."
I could only nod as I watched Grace. She was yawning and started to drift off into slumber.Grace's nursery had been set up over a week long process of painting and decorating, mainly done by me. Alfred didn't really want to take part as he wasn't exactly creative, and he wasn't always home at the most convenient hours. Nevertheless, he found the perfect rocking chair as a gift to me, knowing full well how much I had wanted one so that I may rock our baby to sleep when she cried at night, or after I had just fed her. However, she was still too young to sleep in a full sized crib, and would need to stay in a much smaller one in the same room as us.
Alfred struggled in the door with the baby bag that the hospital had provided us with. Despite the fact we had already bought enough diapers, milk, and toys to keep Grace satisfied, the hospital gave us more, as well as an information packet on "The First Few Months: What to Expect", which we had read front to back while in the waiting room. This was after months of child rearing classes that included taking care of a sack of flour and learning exactly how to clean throw-up off the floor should she miss our shoulder.
By this point, Grace had fallen asleep. Instead of putting her into her new crib, Alfred and I sat on the couch and decided to watch her. Ever since her birth we'd gone about showing everyone pictures of Grace and had even convinced Alfred's parents to fly out to visit their granddaughter in a few weeks. Everyone agreed that she was beautiful, but until they got to see her sleeping or looking up at you with her big eyes, they couldn't understand just how beautiful she really was.
I had thought of what this moment would be like while out buying clothes and toys for her upcoming arrival. It was the only way to get by, some days. There were too many times were I was by myself as I struggled in a baby store for the clothes and scoured around a book store for the perfect parent-baby book, all the time alone and having women stare at me in sympathy that my "wife" wasn't present. I never corrected them because they would most likely grow offended, even if, lawfully, they were right: Alfred was not my husband.
Oftentimes I glanced at my wedding band that I never wore outside the apartment. There was an underlying fear that prevented me from doing so. Last year, 2004, we drove up north to San Francisco for the one-day only same-sex marriage act and tied the knot. The trip was spontaneous, but in our hearts we had wanted to get married for well over a year.
But then, California's Supreme Court ordered that the city had overstepped its boundaries and revoked the marriages, but allowed couples to remain in a union, which is just a fake marriage in both Alfred's and my opinion. We aren't married, but we are, and we can't say we're married or under a domestic partnership. We were part of the lost marriages of California. And Alfred refused to consider us a married couple until he knew it wouldn't be taken back from us. And while same-sex marriages are legal in some parts of the state, Alfred refused to jump on it again until it was completely legal. He feared for another spontaneous mistake.
I had hope, though, that someday we could have a true wedding, not one in the city hall that was over in 5 minutes and included us standing in front of city officials. I wanted Alfred's family there, the entire firehouse, and now, our daughter to stand beside us as we were married. I wanted Alfred to stop referring to me as his boyfriend even after we were married.
Now was not the time to think about such a nearly impossible dream. I was just relishing in the fact we were even able to adopt.
Grace would be a handful; that much I knew from the start. She had strong lungs that allowed her to scream late into the night and all during the day. It made it difficult for me to change her diaper when she would kick and punch at my arms. And feeding her was even a struggle sometimes. She did not like being held.
To make matters worse, I was mostly alone for these trying times. But that didn't mean Alfred didn't contribute. He did in other ways. I was unable to write or be involved in my normal LGBT activities, so he was the sole bread winner for the family, and he often came home with food and plenty of diapers. During the night, if he was home, he would jump up to tend to Grace which allowed for me to sleep.
And then, there were the social hurdles. Alfred and I still wanted to go out as a family every once and awhile, which could be good or bad.
Our first day out with Grace had the media in a frenzy. They all wanted pictures of the baby, having not known if she was a girl or a boy, looked similar to us, or even what her name was. We had kept them completely out of the loop on purpose. But being out that day, there was no chance to hide her. I didn't like slings or back bags for a newborn, so I opted to carry her the entirety of the trip. That gave just enough time for the paparazzi to steal some shots of her here and there. By dinner time, her face was all over talk shows, mainly discussing our choice for adopting a Latina baby.
In truth, it was because while Alfred and I had searched for young children to take from foster care, we noticed there were a lot of Hispanic girls and boys that had a harder chance of finding a home. We tried to connect to these children, but it wasn't working for us, and we never could find one that worked. So, instead, we turned to adopting one that hadn't been born yet, but that the mother was voluntarily giving up. It was a shot in the dark, a very difficult task, even for heterosexual families, but we tried anyways.
In the end, my fame paid off. Alfred and I agreed to try an independent adoption, which meant we didn't use an agency, and we handled the paperwork. Once the name "Kirkland" appeared as a potential parent on lists, we were given an offer four months afterwards. And the end result was Grace.
From the start, we knew it would be a difficult task, and not just because she was a baby and we were new parents, but from the media, and fanatics against our relationship. More e-mails poured in of us "brainwashing" and "abusing" the baby just because we're gay. A petition went out on the Internet to have Grace taken from us. It was quite scary, especially when mothers would see us in the park, walking our baby in her carriage, and threaten to call Social Services on us.
One day, a police officer approached Alfred and I as we sat on a park bench. Grace had just fallen asleep, so we were soaking in that moment of peace to look out at the flora, when the officer banged his stick on the back of the bench, startling us. We sat up straight and turned around as the officer stared us down. He wasn't alone; another officer was standing just nearby with a sneer and a hand over his police stick as well.
"Hello officers," I said slowly. I gulped back some anxiety that always came when being too close to the police. Even if I had done nothing wrong, there was always that overwhelming sense of guilt that pooed in the pit of my stomach. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Yes." The man nearest to us eyed Grace. "Mind if I ask what you're doing with a baby?"
My face reddened in anger. I knew what he was starting to insinuate even before he had spoken the words he really meant to say. Those words alone struck a chord in me. What was I doing with a baby; me, a gay man with his gay husband- what were we doing and how dare we do it? That is what he was implying.
"This is our child," Alfred started. He was tense beside me, but he knew how to control his emotions far better than I. A fireman had to keep his cool even in the worst of situations. "We're just out, like all the other families. Is there a problem with that?"
"Mind if we see proof of this being your child?" the officer asked in a condescending tone.
"No," I replied, bristling at the collar. Alfred put a hand on my shoulder.
"Sir, I believe that would be a violation of rights," Alfred started.
"How? It is a simple request."
"One that we cannot fulfill," I snapped. "How are we to have papers on an infant?"
"Then how are we to believe your word?" the furthest officer asked suddenly. He looked more nervous than ever and his hand was starting to itch as he looked between me and the baby. I was as if they expected me to attack and run off with a newborn. Honestly!
"Have you not seen the news or read the papers?!" I spat. "I am Arthur Kirkland and this is my baby, Grace Marie Kirkland-Jones! You may call the Santa Dominica Hospital to request her birth certificate and the adoption papers if you wish, but this is our child!"
The first officer hesitated as he looked between me and Alfred. "We received a call from some women expressing concern that two Caucasians had abducted a Latina infant."
"We didn't abduct her," I started, but the officer cut me off with a raised hand.
"We had to respond to the call and question you nonetheless." The officer looked back at his partner. It seemed they were ready to go, but the first officer stopped to look directly at me. "You might want to watch yourself. If you weren't famous, we'd have to take the baby to Social Services until it could be cleared."
"Officer," Alfred said suddenly in a firm tone of voice I seldom heard. "Tell me, would you do this if I called in that a Caucasian male and female had a Caucasian infant and I thought they had abducted them?"
The officer hesitated once again. "I would have to answer the call in some way."
"And how would you have them prove it?"
"In the same manner I asked you two."
"So, if I called on those women who called in to file stupid complaints about us, you'd take each of their babies?" Alfred narrowed his eyes. "I call bull shit. Give me your badge number, both of you."
"Alfred," I started gently.
"No, I have a right to ask for it so I can report them to their superior officer." Alfred was serious. There was very little I could do to stop him once he reached this mindset.
The officer sighed. "Our apologizes. We will give you our badge numbers, but nothing will come of it. This can't be seen as a hate crime since there was no action taken. Please understand. We have our own obligations too."
"Then maybe you guys should find a better way to prove a baby is someone's child. Not just looks alone." Alfred pulled me to stand, and even though he had hurt my underarm by the rough tug, I said nothing of it. I followed him as we left the park.
Grace, meanwhile, was oblivious to the attention she was garnering, good and bad. Her pictures appeared on talk shows and in papers and on websites that tracked Alfred and I. I have to admit, that is a bit scary to know people are following us, but I guess, whatever strikes a person's fancy.
Shortly after this, a lady smiled at me as I pushed Grace's carriage up the pathway to our car. I returned it and invited her over to view my daughter. I thought that perhaps she would be a breath of fresh air to our frayed nerves. She cooed over her small fingers and toes, cherubic face, and pudgy belly.
"Your wife must be a beautiful Latina," the lady said cheerfully. My smile faltered. "She has your eyes."
"She's adopted," I said. I didn't want to explain Alfred to her. She obviously saw him standing just behind me, but chose to ignore him. It was surprising given how people normally saw Alfred first before noticing me.
"Oh." The lady flushed and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry. Well, either way she is still quite adorable."
"Thanks," Alfred said. The lady's eyes flashed to him, surprised to see him there.
"Oh, are you the uncle?"
"Nope!" Alfred then put a hand on my shoulder and beamed. "I'm the dad! He's the papa!"
In one fell swoop my entire stance on being an outspoken LGBT activist changed as the woman's demeanor changed. She stood rigidly and breathed sharply through her teeth. I thought if she were a dragon there would be steam coming from her ears and fire from her mouth. I pulled the carriage away from her. There was a chance she would snatch Grace right up with the look she gave us.
"How could you?" she snapped.
"Excuse me?" Alfred asked.
"You've ruined this child's life," the lady hissed.
"Hey, she's happy and healthy," Alfred defended with a terse tone. "It's better than having her be on the streets or in an unloved family."
"There's no hope for you two, but to drag this poor baby into your horrible lifestyle is unforgivable."
"Ma'am, please do not fault our parenting because of our sexuality. They are two different things. It's better for her to live in a loved and accepting environment rather than a harsh and close-minded one. If you disagree with our lifestyle, you have every right not to be involved in it or accept it, but it's unfair to blame our parenting when our daughter is only four months old." I had kept my calm. Four years ago that would not have been the case, but dealing with far more ignorant people than this, I knew I could handle this particular situation with relative ease. I even surprised myself after having just nearly bitten off the police officers heads, but I had more experience with these kind of people. And, I was just tired.
The woman huffed and strutted away, her nose upturned with a fowl taste. Alfred squeezed my shoulder once before he scooper Grace into his arms. She had begun to cry when the tone of my voice changed.
"Let's go home," I said sternly. I stormed off towards the car wanting nothing more than to go home, have a nice cuppa, and curl up with Alfred and my daughter beside me.
Grace had reached her five month stage when it hit me, Alfred and I hadn't been intimate in four months. Ever since Grace came, it was as if our love life stopped cold turkey. I wasn't sure what to think of this. Most of the time I was too tired to even think of extending our kisses beyond a quick peck on the cheek, let alone snog him or pleasure him. The most we did were a few jerk-offs and quick blow jobs, but never any true sex.
It was around this time that I noticed Grace began to push away at all of my holds. She cried loudly when I held her after she was done feeding and fussed if I cuddled her to my face as I had done when she was a newborn. The stress of having my daughter react against me only tightened up my nerves even more.
Alfred came home in the afternoon one day. He trotted over to see me on the couch holding a crying Grace, and I couldn't help it. I began to cry too. Alfred stopped with his mouth open.
"Whoa, babe, what's wrong?!" He sat down next to me and wiped at my tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm just exhausted," I whimpered. Alfred was sympathetic and took Grace from my arms. "I think I need to sleep."
Alfred nodded and kissed my cheek. "I got Grace. Go and sleep, sweetheart."
I was able to get at least a few hours of blessed sleep, but then I lay awake, thinking about the last few months. All that the woman had said resonated within me. She never mentioned religion, but I still had that feeling she was jabbing at that. I wasn't a particularly religious person, but there were times when I thought bad things that happened in my life was from someone up above looking down on my and Alfred's relationship. I didn't want Grace's life to be put to a test where she'd break, or where we would break as a family.
I got up from the bed and wandered out into the living room. Alfred was watching a baseball game on the telly, making me smile. He raised a fist and cheered, juggling Grace in his arms as he did. His feet were propped on the coffee table near a bottle of beer. Grace was happily watching him and sucking on her pacifier all the while. She was never that good with me.
I sat down with a sigh beside him, and he instantly put a free arm around me. "Hey sweetheart. You were out for three hours. You didn't even hear me come in to change."
"I was tired," I replied. I looked down at Grace and frowned. "How are you so good with her…? She's so fussy when I hold her."
"Because I ignore her," Alfred said casually. "When you hold her, you constantly look at her and mess with her. She just wants to be near us, not constantly taken care of."
I looked up at Alfred. "I'm with her all the time and..."
"That's why," Alfred said suddenly, cutting me off. "You are always with her. She's a baby, yeah, but even a baby wants some space. If she starts making noise, you don't have to bolt up to tend to her every whim. Let her cry for a bit. When she wants nothing but to sit and stare and drool, let her, and keep doing your thing. That's what I'm doing. I'll give her attention, but not all the time."
"But…" I reached for one of the parent books lying on the table, only to see Alfred's feet were resting atop them. I picked his feet up and then took the book away to hold it up so Alfred could see the cover. "The books say babies need constant attention."
"Books aren't always right. I know you live by them because you're a writer, but seriously. We can't coddle her. She'll become dependent." Alfred took the book from me and kissed my lips quickly. "Now, I'm going to go put Grace in her crib and when I get back, you had better be naked and on your back."
I gasped, surprised at his sudden change. "W-what?"
"Hey, it's been a long time since we had sex and I'm randy. Baseball has always done that to me."
"Alfred!"
He laughed and stood up, heading to the hallway. "I mean it! I want you!"
I realized then that it was futile to be so down about what the future held. It was going to come no matter what. I cuddled Grace and kissed her in hopes that she would understand later on I would always be there. That I could protect her from the vicious outside world, ready to fling nasty comments her way when she grew old enough to understand them. But I had almost forgotten the best "tool" in my "arsenal"- my loving husband. Alfred would be there beside me and helping Grace whenever she was down. I could always rely on him.
We were a family, and that is what a family did for each other.
Hoshiko2's cents: So I took some creative liberty here in a few places. I have heard of the police officer issue actually happening, though. I met a couple from New York that had recently married and adopted a child, and the police questioning them on grounds of kidnap. It was ridiculous. Next chapter will have a toddler Grace, so get ready for the Terrible Twos!
Thank you all SO much for reading this, and for many of you, going back and either rereading or starting Hospital Flowers. I really can't explain to you guys what this means to me. Honestly, thank you. I hope my quality is up to standard and you continue to enjoy my work. See you next week!
Pairings: USUK
Rating: T
Warnings: Mentions of sexual situations and an OC
Summary: Alfred and Arthur tackle parenthood, and so much more. (Hospital Flowers sequel.)
This chapter: The infant months for Grace and her dads.
"Here she is. Your little girl," cooed the nurse. Fateful words that changed our lives forever.
The nurse came into the waiting room, holding a small bundle in a green blanket. I remember thinking to myself later that it was odd Grace was wrapped in a green cloth, not pink as was traditional. I brushed that aside and became infatuated with the tiny baby in the nurse's arms.
Alfred and I jumped up, standing on shaky legs. On instinct, I put my arms out so the nurse could give Grace to me. She was a red and pudgy baby that put up a little bit of fight at being held. Her eyes cracked open, having only been out of the womb for only a few hours, and then focused on me. They were green, only a tad darker than my own.
"Oh God," I breathed. "She's… She's beautiful."
Alfred was mute in shock, quietly inspecting her. He slowly reached a finger down to touch her small hand. She wasn't of age to grip, but she looked at Alfred in recognition, and Alfred knew he was a dad from that moment on. She looked at me, and I knew too.
"Hi Grace," Alfred whispered as if afraid to scare her. Her eyes flickered back to Alfred. "Hi… I'm your daddy… And I will always love you…"
I smiled tenderly at Alfred, feeling myself fall in love with him all over again. The man had always been good with children, but this was different. He was different. Grace was our baby. He had to be careful of everything he did now. Then again, so did I.
"What's her name?" the nurse asked suddenly. She had moved to the counter nearby with a pen and paper at the ready; Grace's birth certificate.
"Grace shall be her first name and Marie her middle name," I started, but paused. Her last name had been an issue Alfred and I hadn't settled on; Kirkland or Jones?
Alfred met my hesitant gaze, and then finally said, "Kirkland-Jones is her last name."
I leaned upwards to kiss Alfred on the cheek. He smiled at me, returning the kiss, and then dipping down to kiss Grace on her fat baby cheeks. I snuggled my nose into her soft belly. The nurse turned to leave after congratulating us. We had only a few minutes with her before she was to be taken back to her mother for feeding. I managed to catch the nurse before she left.
"Ma'am." The nurse stopped to look at me. "May I inquire as to her mother…? How old is she?"
"…She's sixteen," the nurse replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot give any more information other than that. You can stay with Grace for a little while longer, but she will have to go back to her mother for a few more days."
I nodded in understanding. We were allowed visitation rights until the hospital deemed it okay for the newborn to be taken from her mother, forever. We had offered to allow the mother to stay in Grace's life, but the girl had turned us down. Alfred had voiced aloud his hundreds of scenarios as to the girl's reasons for giving up the baby- shame, no money, too young, or a combination of the three- but we never knew any solid reason. The winner was "too young", and suddenly I felt disgusting.
I clutched Grace closer to my chest as I ducked my head down. The nurse left us alone for a little while. Alfred sat beside me and put a hand on my leg.
"Sweetheart," he started with a soft tone. "We're doing the right thing. So is the mom. It'll be okay. In time you'll see. This was the right thing to do."
I could only nod as I watched Grace. She was yawning and started to drift off into slumber.Grace's nursery had been set up over a week long process of painting and decorating, mainly done by me. Alfred didn't really want to take part as he wasn't exactly creative, and he wasn't always home at the most convenient hours. Nevertheless, he found the perfect rocking chair as a gift to me, knowing full well how much I had wanted one so that I may rock our baby to sleep when she cried at night, or after I had just fed her. However, she was still too young to sleep in a full sized crib, and would need to stay in a much smaller one in the same room as us.
Alfred struggled in the door with the baby bag that the hospital had provided us with. Despite the fact we had already bought enough diapers, milk, and toys to keep Grace satisfied, the hospital gave us more, as well as an information packet on "The First Few Months: What to Expect", which we had read front to back while in the waiting room. This was after months of child rearing classes that included taking care of a sack of flour and learning exactly how to clean throw-up off the floor should she miss our shoulder.
By this point, Grace had fallen asleep. Instead of putting her into her new crib, Alfred and I sat on the couch and decided to watch her. Ever since her birth we'd gone about showing everyone pictures of Grace and had even convinced Alfred's parents to fly out to visit their granddaughter in a few weeks. Everyone agreed that she was beautiful, but until they got to see her sleeping or looking up at you with her big eyes, they couldn't understand just how beautiful she really was.
I had thought of what this moment would be like while out buying clothes and toys for her upcoming arrival. It was the only way to get by, some days. There were too many times were I was by myself as I struggled in a baby store for the clothes and scoured around a book store for the perfect parent-baby book, all the time alone and having women stare at me in sympathy that my "wife" wasn't present. I never corrected them because they would most likely grow offended, even if, lawfully, they were right: Alfred was not my husband.
Oftentimes I glanced at my wedding band that I never wore outside the apartment. There was an underlying fear that prevented me from doing so. Last year, 2004, we drove up north to San Francisco for the one-day only same-sex marriage act and tied the knot. The trip was spontaneous, but in our hearts we had wanted to get married for well over a year.
But then, California's Supreme Court ordered that the city had overstepped its boundaries and revoked the marriages, but allowed couples to remain in a union, which is just a fake marriage in both Alfred's and my opinion. We aren't married, but we are, and we can't say we're married or under a domestic partnership. We were part of the lost marriages of California. And Alfred refused to consider us a married couple until he knew it wouldn't be taken back from us. And while same-sex marriages are legal in some parts of the state, Alfred refused to jump on it again until it was completely legal. He feared for another spontaneous mistake.
I had hope, though, that someday we could have a true wedding, not one in the city hall that was over in 5 minutes and included us standing in front of city officials. I wanted Alfred's family there, the entire firehouse, and now, our daughter to stand beside us as we were married. I wanted Alfred to stop referring to me as his boyfriend even after we were married.
Now was not the time to think about such a nearly impossible dream. I was just relishing in the fact we were even able to adopt.
Grace would be a handful; that much I knew from the start. She had strong lungs that allowed her to scream late into the night and all during the day. It made it difficult for me to change her diaper when she would kick and punch at my arms. And feeding her was even a struggle sometimes. She did not like being held.
To make matters worse, I was mostly alone for these trying times. But that didn't mean Alfred didn't contribute. He did in other ways. I was unable to write or be involved in my normal LGBT activities, so he was the sole bread winner for the family, and he often came home with food and plenty of diapers. During the night, if he was home, he would jump up to tend to Grace which allowed for me to sleep.
And then, there were the social hurdles. Alfred and I still wanted to go out as a family every once and awhile, which could be good or bad.
Our first day out with Grace had the media in a frenzy. They all wanted pictures of the baby, having not known if she was a girl or a boy, looked similar to us, or even what her name was. We had kept them completely out of the loop on purpose. But being out that day, there was no chance to hide her. I didn't like slings or back bags for a newborn, so I opted to carry her the entirety of the trip. That gave just enough time for the paparazzi to steal some shots of her here and there. By dinner time, her face was all over talk shows, mainly discussing our choice for adopting a Latina baby.
In truth, it was because while Alfred and I had searched for young children to take from foster care, we noticed there were a lot of Hispanic girls and boys that had a harder chance of finding a home. We tried to connect to these children, but it wasn't working for us, and we never could find one that worked. So, instead, we turned to adopting one that hadn't been born yet, but that the mother was voluntarily giving up. It was a shot in the dark, a very difficult task, even for heterosexual families, but we tried anyways.
In the end, my fame paid off. Alfred and I agreed to try an independent adoption, which meant we didn't use an agency, and we handled the paperwork. Once the name "Kirkland" appeared as a potential parent on lists, we were given an offer four months afterwards. And the end result was Grace.
From the start, we knew it would be a difficult task, and not just because she was a baby and we were new parents, but from the media, and fanatics against our relationship. More e-mails poured in of us "brainwashing" and "abusing" the baby just because we're gay. A petition went out on the Internet to have Grace taken from us. It was quite scary, especially when mothers would see us in the park, walking our baby in her carriage, and threaten to call Social Services on us.
One day, a police officer approached Alfred and I as we sat on a park bench. Grace had just fallen asleep, so we were soaking in that moment of peace to look out at the flora, when the officer banged his stick on the back of the bench, startling us. We sat up straight and turned around as the officer stared us down. He wasn't alone; another officer was standing just nearby with a sneer and a hand over his police stick as well.
"Hello officers," I said slowly. I gulped back some anxiety that always came when being too close to the police. Even if I had done nothing wrong, there was always that overwhelming sense of guilt that pooed in the pit of my stomach. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Yes." The man nearest to us eyed Grace. "Mind if I ask what you're doing with a baby?"
My face reddened in anger. I knew what he was starting to insinuate even before he had spoken the words he really meant to say. Those words alone struck a chord in me. What was I doing with a baby; me, a gay man with his gay husband- what were we doing and how dare we do it? That is what he was implying.
"This is our child," Alfred started. He was tense beside me, but he knew how to control his emotions far better than I. A fireman had to keep his cool even in the worst of situations. "We're just out, like all the other families. Is there a problem with that?"
"Mind if we see proof of this being your child?" the officer asked in a condescending tone.
"No," I replied, bristling at the collar. Alfred put a hand on my shoulder.
"Sir, I believe that would be a violation of rights," Alfred started.
"How? It is a simple request."
"One that we cannot fulfill," I snapped. "How are we to have papers on an infant?"
"Then how are we to believe your word?" the furthest officer asked suddenly. He looked more nervous than ever and his hand was starting to itch as he looked between me and the baby. I was as if they expected me to attack and run off with a newborn. Honestly!
"Have you not seen the news or read the papers?!" I spat. "I am Arthur Kirkland and this is my baby, Grace Marie Kirkland-Jones! You may call the Santa Dominica Hospital to request her birth certificate and the adoption papers if you wish, but this is our child!"
The first officer hesitated as he looked between me and Alfred. "We received a call from some women expressing concern that two Caucasians had abducted a Latina infant."
"We didn't abduct her," I started, but the officer cut me off with a raised hand.
"We had to respond to the call and question you nonetheless." The officer looked back at his partner. It seemed they were ready to go, but the first officer stopped to look directly at me. "You might want to watch yourself. If you weren't famous, we'd have to take the baby to Social Services until it could be cleared."
"Officer," Alfred said suddenly in a firm tone of voice I seldom heard. "Tell me, would you do this if I called in that a Caucasian male and female had a Caucasian infant and I thought they had abducted them?"
The officer hesitated once again. "I would have to answer the call in some way."
"And how would you have them prove it?"
"In the same manner I asked you two."
"So, if I called on those women who called in to file stupid complaints about us, you'd take each of their babies?" Alfred narrowed his eyes. "I call bull shit. Give me your badge number, both of you."
"Alfred," I started gently.
"No, I have a right to ask for it so I can report them to their superior officer." Alfred was serious. There was very little I could do to stop him once he reached this mindset.
The officer sighed. "Our apologizes. We will give you our badge numbers, but nothing will come of it. This can't be seen as a hate crime since there was no action taken. Please understand. We have our own obligations too."
"Then maybe you guys should find a better way to prove a baby is someone's child. Not just looks alone." Alfred pulled me to stand, and even though he had hurt my underarm by the rough tug, I said nothing of it. I followed him as we left the park.
Grace, meanwhile, was oblivious to the attention she was garnering, good and bad. Her pictures appeared on talk shows and in papers and on websites that tracked Alfred and I. I have to admit, that is a bit scary to know people are following us, but I guess, whatever strikes a person's fancy.
Shortly after this, a lady smiled at me as I pushed Grace's carriage up the pathway to our car. I returned it and invited her over to view my daughter. I thought that perhaps she would be a breath of fresh air to our frayed nerves. She cooed over her small fingers and toes, cherubic face, and pudgy belly.
"Your wife must be a beautiful Latina," the lady said cheerfully. My smile faltered. "She has your eyes."
"She's adopted," I said. I didn't want to explain Alfred to her. She obviously saw him standing just behind me, but chose to ignore him. It was surprising given how people normally saw Alfred first before noticing me.
"Oh." The lady flushed and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry. Well, either way she is still quite adorable."
"Thanks," Alfred said. The lady's eyes flashed to him, surprised to see him there.
"Oh, are you the uncle?"
"Nope!" Alfred then put a hand on my shoulder and beamed. "I'm the dad! He's the papa!"
In one fell swoop my entire stance on being an outspoken LGBT activist changed as the woman's demeanor changed. She stood rigidly and breathed sharply through her teeth. I thought if she were a dragon there would be steam coming from her ears and fire from her mouth. I pulled the carriage away from her. There was a chance she would snatch Grace right up with the look she gave us.
"How could you?" she snapped.
"Excuse me?" Alfred asked.
"You've ruined this child's life," the lady hissed.
"Hey, she's happy and healthy," Alfred defended with a terse tone. "It's better than having her be on the streets or in an unloved family."
"There's no hope for you two, but to drag this poor baby into your horrible lifestyle is unforgivable."
"Ma'am, please do not fault our parenting because of our sexuality. They are two different things. It's better for her to live in a loved and accepting environment rather than a harsh and close-minded one. If you disagree with our lifestyle, you have every right not to be involved in it or accept it, but it's unfair to blame our parenting when our daughter is only four months old." I had kept my calm. Four years ago that would not have been the case, but dealing with far more ignorant people than this, I knew I could handle this particular situation with relative ease. I even surprised myself after having just nearly bitten off the police officers heads, but I had more experience with these kind of people. And, I was just tired.
The woman huffed and strutted away, her nose upturned with a fowl taste. Alfred squeezed my shoulder once before he scooper Grace into his arms. She had begun to cry when the tone of my voice changed.
"Let's go home," I said sternly. I stormed off towards the car wanting nothing more than to go home, have a nice cuppa, and curl up with Alfred and my daughter beside me.
Grace had reached her five month stage when it hit me, Alfred and I hadn't been intimate in four months. Ever since Grace came, it was as if our love life stopped cold turkey. I wasn't sure what to think of this. Most of the time I was too tired to even think of extending our kisses beyond a quick peck on the cheek, let alone snog him or pleasure him. The most we did were a few jerk-offs and quick blow jobs, but never any true sex.
It was around this time that I noticed Grace began to push away at all of my holds. She cried loudly when I held her after she was done feeding and fussed if I cuddled her to my face as I had done when she was a newborn. The stress of having my daughter react against me only tightened up my nerves even more.
Alfred came home in the afternoon one day. He trotted over to see me on the couch holding a crying Grace, and I couldn't help it. I began to cry too. Alfred stopped with his mouth open.
"Whoa, babe, what's wrong?!" He sat down next to me and wiped at my tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm just exhausted," I whimpered. Alfred was sympathetic and took Grace from my arms. "I think I need to sleep."
Alfred nodded and kissed my cheek. "I got Grace. Go and sleep, sweetheart."
I was able to get at least a few hours of blessed sleep, but then I lay awake, thinking about the last few months. All that the woman had said resonated within me. She never mentioned religion, but I still had that feeling she was jabbing at that. I wasn't a particularly religious person, but there were times when I thought bad things that happened in my life was from someone up above looking down on my and Alfred's relationship. I didn't want Grace's life to be put to a test where she'd break, or where we would break as a family.
I got up from the bed and wandered out into the living room. Alfred was watching a baseball game on the telly, making me smile. He raised a fist and cheered, juggling Grace in his arms as he did. His feet were propped on the coffee table near a bottle of beer. Grace was happily watching him and sucking on her pacifier all the while. She was never that good with me.
I sat down with a sigh beside him, and he instantly put a free arm around me. "Hey sweetheart. You were out for three hours. You didn't even hear me come in to change."
"I was tired," I replied. I looked down at Grace and frowned. "How are you so good with her…? She's so fussy when I hold her."
"Because I ignore her," Alfred said casually. "When you hold her, you constantly look at her and mess with her. She just wants to be near us, not constantly taken care of."
I looked up at Alfred. "I'm with her all the time and..."
"That's why," Alfred said suddenly, cutting me off. "You are always with her. She's a baby, yeah, but even a baby wants some space. If she starts making noise, you don't have to bolt up to tend to her every whim. Let her cry for a bit. When she wants nothing but to sit and stare and drool, let her, and keep doing your thing. That's what I'm doing. I'll give her attention, but not all the time."
"But…" I reached for one of the parent books lying on the table, only to see Alfred's feet were resting atop them. I picked his feet up and then took the book away to hold it up so Alfred could see the cover. "The books say babies need constant attention."
"Books aren't always right. I know you live by them because you're a writer, but seriously. We can't coddle her. She'll become dependent." Alfred took the book from me and kissed my lips quickly. "Now, I'm going to go put Grace in her crib and when I get back, you had better be naked and on your back."
I gasped, surprised at his sudden change. "W-what?"
"Hey, it's been a long time since we had sex and I'm randy. Baseball has always done that to me."
"Alfred!"
He laughed and stood up, heading to the hallway. "I mean it! I want you!"
I realized then that it was futile to be so down about what the future held. It was going to come no matter what. I cuddled Grace and kissed her in hopes that she would understand later on I would always be there. That I could protect her from the vicious outside world, ready to fling nasty comments her way when she grew old enough to understand them. But I had almost forgotten the best "tool" in my "arsenal"- my loving husband. Alfred would be there beside me and helping Grace whenever she was down. I could always rely on him.
We were a family, and that is what a family did for each other.
Hoshiko2's cents: So I took some creative liberty here in a few places. I have heard of the police officer issue actually happening, though. I met a couple from New York that had recently married and adopted a child, and the police questioning them on grounds of kidnap. It was ridiculous. Next chapter will have a toddler Grace, so get ready for the Terrible Twos!
Thank you all SO much for reading this, and for many of you, going back and either rereading or starting Hospital Flowers. I really can't explain to you guys what this means to me. Honestly, thank you. I hope my quality is up to standard and you continue to enjoy my work. See you next week!