The Journey Home

My husband and I are ready to be dads. I've done some writing in the past that talked about our aching "brovaries," as one fellow Gays With Kids writer called them. And in the nine months of gestation that my brain has done since releasing that piece, we have decided to take the plunge.
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I suppose that, as it is with most stories, it's easiest to start at the beginning. Our story so far has been simple. Our story moving forward? Probably less simple.

You see, up to this point, my biggest contribution to the world, my defining moment, has probably been a lawsuit. In college, after being the victim of a hate crime, I sued my school to start a gay-straight alliance, and that lawsuit ended up being taught nationally as case law. I've been sent textbooks in the mail, and just after Roe v. Wade you'll find Romeo v. Seton Hall. I've been able to travel the country and talk to kids about the coming-out process, creating allies, living authentic lives, and being whole people in a world too full of characters.

I met my husband Dominic almost 10 years ago. We moved in together in 2008 and married in 2012. He's a teacher, the hardest worker I know, doing one of the most important jobs I can think of. He holds the promise of tomorrow in his classroom and works hard to get past the glazed eyes and iApathy of a post-millennial generation hell-bent on instant gratification. Dom teaches students the same way we were taught: thanklessly and tirelessly. He's a good, good man, and he isn't just the significant other; he is significantly my other. And outside the kitchen, where Dom is the only one of us who can leave the space without fire alarms being set off, ours partnership is probably like many of yours. Us is the best part of who we are.

And, like you, we've always imagined our lives intersecting in a world where we would have so much love for one another that we'd want to make our tiny family a little bit bigger.

We're ready to be dads.

I've done some writing in the past that talked about our aching "brovaries," as one fellow Gays With Kids writer called them. And in the nine months of gestation that my brain has done since releasing that piece, my husband and I have decided to take the plunge.

And we've decided to take that leap together, with all of you. You see, I'm joining the writing staff at Gays With Kids so that we can document our adoption process, from start to finish, from dreams to placement, from two men and a cat to two men, a cat, and a baby. It's a tiny-bit-sparklier version of the American dream, no?

Over the course of the time we'll spend together, faithful readers, I hope to present the story of two men who want to make tiny dreams come true. We know there will be happy stories to tell, and we know those will be easy. We also know there will be harder stories to share; I promise to include you every step of the way.

The road ahead isn't covered in sequins and rhinestones. Good. That's never been our style anyway. Smarter folks than I have intimated that it takes a village to raise a child. I think that's true. But why not include the village from the get-go?

So, if you're willing to hop on for the long haul, you'll be able to see two men go through a process with which many of you are already familiar. But this time you get to be passengers, or, as we hope you'll be, backseat drivers.

It's rare to leave readers at the beginning of a story, but that's all we can do here. If you're willing to travel down the road with us a bit, from these very first few whispered words together, I hope with all my heart to leave you happier and fuller at the conclusion. Through whatever twists and turns our journey takes, we're in it together.

This piece originally appeared on Gays With Kids and marks the beginning of the adoption process for Anthony and his husband, covered step by step in real time.

Follow the adoption process as it unfolds by "liking" Gays With Kids on Facebook and following Gays With Kids on Twitter. You can also read Anthony's posts as they're released here, and by following him on Twitter.

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