Being a single gay dad, people ask my adopted sons, ‘Where’s mummy?’
Vincent Ryan, 42, a flight manager from Manchester, shares his journey from single, gay and desperate to be a father, to becoming a dad to his two boys, Alfie, six and Theodore, two, through adoption.
Watching my sons play on the beach on holiday this summer, my heart felt so full – of love for them, and pride in myself. A decade ago, I was desperate to be a father and have a family of my own, but single and gay, I had no idea how I was going to make that happen.
Every time I look at Alfie, six and Theodore, two, hear their laughs and feel their little arms around me, I'm reminded that I did it. I turned my dream of fatherhood into a reality.
I grew up in the Republic of Ireland, one of six siblings, and being a young gay man back then was very tough. There was so much shame and secrecy, and 'gay dads' just didn’t exist. Despite all this, I could never shake off my deep-rooted desire to have my own family, although I always knew it wouldn’t be easy.
I moved to London in 2002, and then to Manchester in 2013. I partied hard, travelled the world with my job as cabin crew with an airline, and had relationships, although none turned to lasting love. It was a fun time of my life, with only myself to think about and the world my oyster.
Longing to be a dad
However, I vividly remember one night in 2014 when I was 33, being in a nightclub, newly single after another relationship had ended, and thinking, 'I want more than this.' I’d had enough of that chapter of my life, I wanted to be a father and I knew it was down to me to make that happen, even if it meant doing it alone.
The first hurdle to overcome was finding an adoption agency to take me on. Several refused – my single status, my sexuality and my work (as a flight manager) were all viewed negatively.
I know gay men who’ve gone down the surrogacy route but that was never an option. I knew there were so many children in care in the UK who needed a loving parent and a safe home, so adoption was the only choice for me.
Easier said than done though. The first hurdle I had to overcome was finding an adoption agency to take me on. Several simply refused – my single status, my sexuality and the nature of my work were all viewed negatively as barriers to me being a good father.
It was incredibly frustrating, I felt judged just for being me, but finally, I found an agency who would help me.
Gruelling adoption process
Anyone who’s been through the adoption process will know how intrusive it is. Every aspect of my life, past and present, was scrutinised, from my finances to my ex-partners. I filled out hundreds of forms, attended countless meetings with social workers, and it took over my life.
Every aspect of my life, past and present, was scrutinised, from my finances to my ex-partners. I filled out hundreds of forms, attended countless meetings with social workers, and it took over my life.
I understood the need for due diligence but it’s also really hard feeling you’re under a microscope. I did have some low moments when I questioned if I was strong enough to carry on. The answer though was always 'yes', somewhere out there was a child who needed me as much as I needed them. I couldn’t give up.
When I began the adoption process, I had mixed reactions from people in my life. Those closest to me weren’t surprised and were very supportive. I did lose some gay friends though who simply didn’t understand why I was doing this. With no paternal instincts themselves, they couldn’t understand why I wanted to turn my life on its head in this way.
Bringing home my baby
In August 2017, I was finally approved to adopt. That was just the beginning of a new journey though, because now I had to wait to be matched with a child, in competition with other prospective adopters. On several occasions, I spent time with a child only for social services to decide they were better suited to another person or couple.
In October 2017, I received a call asking would I be interested in caring for a 10-week-old baby boy called Alfie. He’d been in foster care since birth, but the courts had not made a final decision yet on whether he would be adopted. This is called a 'concurrent' placement, and there was a chance it could be temporary, and he’d be returned to his birth parents.
I only had a few days to race to the shops for all the paraphernalia a baby needs, from bottles to a crib, to get my home ready and let my employers know I needed time off work.
I said yes without hesitation. I knew there was a chance he wouldn’t become mine forever, but if I could give him a loving, safe home in the meantime, I’d gladly do that.
I only had a few days to race to the shops for all the paraphernalia a baby needs, from bottles to a crib, to get my home ready and let my employers know I needed to take some time off work.
Embracing fatherhood
I felt excited, nervous, happy and daunted all at once, when the social worker arrived with this tiny baby in a car seat. After so long hoping and waiting, was this my son?
As any new parent experiences, it was a steep and exhausting learning curve. Overnight, my life transformed from only having to think about myself, to being completely devoted to the needs of this little boy. I threw myself into it, experiencing a love and contentment I’d never felt before as I rocked Alfie to sleep, or took him for walks in the pram.
It wasn’t always easy though. Some friends drifted away, unable to relate to my new life. While they were out clubbing, I was at home changing nappies and making up bottles.
From day one, it was like the missing piece of a puzzle had slotted into place, I loved him and quickly couldn’t imagine life without him
When I attended baby groups, I’d be the only dad and often felt like an outsider among the mums. I persevered though – I didn’t want Alfie to miss out, and a lifetime of having to overcome people’s judgement and perceptions of me stood me in good stead.
Alfie was 18 months old when it was finally decided he would be adopted, and I would become his dad. Hard as I’d tried to begin with to hold back from fully bonding with him – knowing he could be taken away from me at any moment – it was impossible.
From day one, it was like the missing piece of a puzzle had slotted into place, I loved him and quickly couldn’t imagine life without him. Being told formally I was his father was an incredibly emotional moment, one I’ll never forget. I felt like I could finally exhale after months of holding my breath, living under the shadow of worrying he’d be taken away.
In November 2021, I was approached about another baby boy who was just a few days old and still in hospital. Again, it would be a ‘concurrent’ placement, and I agreed. Some people thought I was crazy to put myself through the uncertainty for a second time, but I had a strong feeling this baby needed me. And in July this year, I officially became a dad-of-two, when I formally adopted Theodore.
Challenges of solo parenthood
I still have moments, when I’m tucking the boys into bed or we’re on a family trip together, when I can’t believe I’m living this life I hoped for so desperately. Hearing them call me 'Daddy' still gives me goosebumps of sheer joy, I will never take it for granted, and watching them grow from babies into kind, loving and fun little boys is such a privilege.
I have to work a bit harder to prove myself, compared to other parents, because I’m a single dad and a gay man.
Solo parenthood is hard and has its challenges though. Not having someone to take over when I’m unwell, or to share both the good moments and the worries with, is lonely. Plus, the pressure of always feeling I have to work that bit harder to prove myself, compared to other parents, because I’m a single dad and a gay man.
Society's expectations
Theodore is still too young to understand but I’ve always been open with Alfie that he has a 'tummy mummy', but some special people decided he would come to live with me, and I am his daddy. He’s very accepting of that and I hope he’s growing up in a world where families now come in all shapes and sizes.
That said, often society still expects a mum to be present in a child’s life. If we’re out shopping and Alfie has some flowers in his basket for our home, he’ll often be asked, "Are they for your mummy?" He’ll reply "I don’t have one" and we watch the person do an awkward shuffle.
I’ve been on a sabbatical from my career as a flight service manager since November 2021, when Theodore first arrived. My employer has been so supportive and I returned to work this month.
If we’re out shopping and Alfie has some flowers in his basket for our home, he’ll often be asked, 'Are they for your mummy?'
Alfie is at school, Theodore attends nursery several days a week and I’ll have a nanny to help too, along with family in Ireland. It will be a juggle but that’s normal for most families and we’re no different, we’ll make it work.
Standing on the sidelines as Alfie plays football, or pushing Theodore on a swing in the park, my old life feels like a million years ago. Perhaps in the future I’ll meet someone to share this all with, but I’m thankful I had the courage to go it alone and not wait. Being Dad is who I was always meant to be.
Read more
When my adopted children first said 'Mummy' I felt I'd burst with joy (Yahoo Life UK, 8-min read)
I’ve been paid over £100K to foster more than 30 children – but I’d do it all for free (Yahoo Life UK, 11-min read)
Girl, 17, who spent 10 years in 24 different foster homes has finally been adopted by a loving mum (Yahoo Life UK, 4-min read)