Soulful Snippets for Kai
by Rachael Köhne-Lau

I am Kai’s biological mother and my wife is his birth mother. When Brige and I decided we wanted to try and have a child we hoped that this child would be a reflection of the two of us and the relationship that we are co-creating. So, we decided to use my egg and a South African Caucasian sperm donor and Brige to carry our baby to term. Kai was conceived on our first attempt at IVF right in the midst of Covid — our miracle baby.

In order to give us the best chance possible at success, Brige decided to quit her job as a teacher to reduce the stress and also prepare her mind and body to quite literally accept the embryo transfer and nurture our little ‘Nguni.’ (Nguni is the name we called Kai when Brige was carrying him before we had decided on names. It’s a specific type of African cattle/cow and Brige has a love for all things cow.)

We were living in Hong Kong, which had strict rules during Covid. A travel ban was lifted for South Africa so we took a chance. Booked flights. Packed bags and went to South Africa to try and make a baby.

IVF is quite a complex process in and of itself. Add in a few other ingredients such as same-sex couple, syncing menstrual cycles so one can do the first half of the process up until egg retrieval and then hand over the baton for embryo transfer and carrying the baby to term is quite a feat. Again, this is why we felt so amazed that we were successful the first time. Don’t forget to sprinkle Covid throughout the whole process. Easy peasy.

We decided that Brige would stay in South Africa until after the first trimester was over. After all, no rush to get back to work. South Africa was back on the banned list for Hong Kong. What this meant was that my trip would take at least 42 days to get back home. I was required to leave South Africa and be out of the country for 21 days before entering Hong Kong. Luckily, I could fly via United Arab Emirates and do some work in Dubai and visit friends in Abu Dhabi.

After clearing the 21 days in UAE and landing back in Hong Kong, there was a lengthy process at the airport and then 21 days of hotel quarantine. Yes, 21 days in a hotel room. Luckily, I had a room where you could open the window. That later got banned as it was a ‘health risk.’ I can’t remember how long it was exactly but between 42-45 days to get from South Africa home. The hotel quarantine tested every aspect of my resilience, discipline, resolve, patience, sanity and anything else you can think of when isolated for three weeks. I’ve never been to jail, but I can only imagine. But even in jail they get time each day to eat and be around other people.

Brige had to do the same when she eventually travelled back to Hong Kong, except she had to go via Tanzania because of limited countries for South Africans to travel back to Hong Kong. Looking back now it seems absolutely ridiculous that it took us each 5–6 weeks to get home. The decisions we had to make, the admin involved, the logistics, travelling separately, the costs, the worries, concerns and craziness of it all. But we didn’t even question it at the time. We just did what we had to do.

We had to do Covid tests every three days around Kai’s birth to ensure we weren’t positive when going to hospital. Brige went in to hospital to be induced and was there for five days before Kai was born. He really didn’t want to come out. Who would want to be thrust into a whirlwind of unfamiliarity, uncertainty and unknowns by choice?

The waiting and forced isolation must have been really hard for Brige. Being in hospital alone for the most part, immersed in a foreign culture and with hospital food and language barriers at one of the most stressful times in your life, when you’re about to give birth. When I went to visit her at the hospital, she had to come downstairs and outside to see me. I wasn’t allowed inside.

When it was time for Kai’s birth I had to wait until the last moment before I was allowed to be by Brige’s bed side. She was already exhausted from being in hospital for an extended period and induced multiple times. I could see it on her face when I arrived. But she has this depth in her being when it comes to perseverance. Sometimes I wonder if it’s linked to her stubbornness. When she has her heart and mind set on something, she’s all in. No matter what it takes. To the point where sometimes it doesn’t pan out as it was in her mind and she gets stuck in this indignant vibe, processing the gap between perception and reality. The fact that she was already exhausted and was still able to give birth is a real testament to her strength and resilience. She nearly broke my hand as I offered it to her in support but that’s a small consequence of being by her side channeling all the support from our family and friends who couldn’t be there through my blood restricted, crumpled, nearly broken hand…

When he eventually entered the world, I held him for maybe five minutes before I was told that I needed to leave. I didn’t have time to process the fact we had a baby boy and I was in the lift walking out of the hospital wondering what just happened. The nurse had given us the paper work to register his birth and I’d asked if we could both be on the birth certificate. She said we would have to take it up with the Births and Deaths department but it was not likely that it would be possible.

I am not on Kai’s Hong Kong birth certificate despite being his biological mother. There is a space for ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’ Nothing in between or anything different. There is a huge empty void under ‘Father’ because I am not Kai’s father. The void was so big that I could have lost my way wanting to ‘fit in.’ I could have lost my mind and my body wondering endlessly who I actually am, not knowing which direction to go. A search and rescue team may not have been able to find me through all of society’s narratives of what a family should look like. Luckily for me, I didn’t get lost or lose my way. I feel very comfortable with who I am, my values and what I stand for even if I struggled with my identity as a parent and Mum for a little while.

When I was told that I could not be on his birth certificate by a young girl at the Births and Deaths registration office I think she was very relieved that she was sitting behind perspex glass. My reaction was strong but respectfully challenging of the system. But inside my body, it was like hot lava was flooding through. I was channelling every ounce of my patience in my sleep-deprived, new-parent self to find the will to understand why the system was so old fashioned and discriminatory. It was not this poor girl’s fault, she was the unlucky one to get our ticket number. But I have been that girl behind the perspex glass — a similar situation in a call centre answering customers complaints. It’s like being fire-hosed by dragons breathing fire and still trying to remain as calm and civil as possible.

Brige and Kai were with me and she was trying to breastfeed him when he needed and look after him whilst all this was going on. We must have been in that office for about 2-3 hours. The outcome? Kai’s birth certificate with only his ‘birth mother’ and blank under Father. They would not and could not put my name in that space. What’s more, they said that we could add the father’s name at a later stage if we wanted. Humiliating. They could not understand despite telling them many times that Kai did not have a father. He had a sperm donor. Blank stare looking back at me from the supervisor. Brige had to write a declaration and read it out in front of the supervisor that we were married, we did not know who the sperm donor was and that we request to delete the father’s name and that if we wanted to add the father’s name at a later stage we would have to re-register the birth according to Hong Kong law.

So yes, it was a huge knock to my identity as his parent and mother, which by the way seems very common and most new parents/mothers grapple with this under the best of circumstances. I felt a huge part of my being was not acknowledged or recognised. It has been quite a journey for me to truly embody my identity as Kai’s Mum and parent and I can say that today as I sit here and write this two and a half years on I finally feel a depth of connection to him as his Mum.

After the injustice we experienced in registering Kai’s birth a fire lit inside of me to try and rectify this for others like us in the future. I reached out to a few rainbow families in Hong Kong and we found very generous lawyers and barristers willing to work pro-bono on Kai’s behalf to fight for what they felt was right. We had a strong case but it was a very long shot for me to get a Declaration of Parentage. Our legal teams took a minimal contribution from us and ran our case on Legal Aid from the Hong Kong government for what eventually took nearly two years to reach the outcome it did. Some people donated money to our case that we do not know and can never thank enough.

The process was long and arduous. Frustrating, humbling and emotional. There was so much paperwork. We had to take DNA tests, do police reports, and a social worker came to our home to interview us and see that Kai was being raised in a loving home with a stable and loving family. Humiliating x2. But in the end, justice prevails. Although not the full outcome we wanted, we created a new path with the love from our hearts for our son. We created a new direction for others to walk so that it can become well-trodden over time. New possibilities and opportunities for others. We may never know the full ripple-effect of our decision to take action but I feel comfort in knowing that we were brave enough to try and had the courage to see it through.

Another milestone in solidifying my identity as Kai’s parent was our landmark ruling in a court case in Hong Kong where I was acknowledged by the judge as Kai’s ‘parent at common-law’ to try and afford me the legal status that other parents automatically get. It was the first time in the history of the common law world that the court expressly stated that children of same-sex couples are discriminated by the current legislation. One big step for children like Kai or similar and rainbow families in Hong Kong.

*

Kai is one of my greatest teachers in my life at the moment. Two and half years old and schooling me in areas of my life that are important — fighting for equality, learning to see the world through his eyes. Appreciate the beauty in being 100% present in the moment with his favourite story at the moment — The Ugly Five by Julia Donaldson. He has such a love for ‘aminals’ (supposed to be pronounced animals) at two and a half that is such a gift. Living in South Africa has given us the opportunity to expose him to zebra, warthog, buck — like cats and dogs in the United Kingdom or Hong Kong. What would be a once in a life time opportunity for many has become an absolute blessing for our little family.

*

I’ve always been in awe of our Mother Nature. She goes about her business day in, day out without judgement or keeping score. She just gets on with it…if ever there was a true representation of resilience, she would be it.

Today we visited the beach as a family. One of our favourite spots to visit — Umhlanga (pronounced Um-sh-langa) Beach. For those of you that might not know it, she sits along the beautiful Indian Ocean coastline of South Africa.

The waves were particularly big with lots of white wash but we found our spot on the hot sand. Pulled out one of those awkward pop up tents that take time to figure out how to put back once opened but we needed some shade from the glaring sun and got down to business. Making sand castles. Kai picked up his shovel and got straight to it. Digging and filling up the bucket and patting the sand down to make it more compact. After a handful of sandcastles, we headed down to the water.

This may have been Kai’s fourth or fifth time to the beach. Each time he has become more and more brave when approaching the water. I stand behind him and hold both his hands. I sense it gives him confidence. He wants to inch closer and closer to the big waves, but I see and feel the strong undercurrent so I keep us right on the edge without getting swept away in the vast ocean. His nervous giggle as the waves crash onto the sand is infectious. I sense that he is nervous and a bit scared but wants to experience ‘the edge.’ That place many of us may be familiar with at moments in our lives when we feel anxious or scared to do something but we lean into doing it anyway for the experience. The feeling. The sensation. The memories. These are the moments I live for.

March 2024
Howick, South Africa