An unexpected joy: A queer journey to parenthood
Authors

Lucia Fernandez
View bioPride Month invites reflection, not just on where we are, but on how far we’ve come. For me, this year holds a deeper significance. I’m celebrating Pride not only as a queer woman, but as a new mother. The journey from growing up in a quiet, rural corner of Spain to raising a child in a country that now recognises and protects my family has been long, complex, and deeply personal.
A childhood in isolation
I recognise the privilege I have today of freedom and visibility but growing up queer1 in the 90’s in the Spanish countryside was a very different experience. The cultural and legal landscape back then was not the same as today. There were no visible LGBTQ+ role models, no LGBTQ+ families, no affirming stories, and no safe spaces for me and the isolation I felt seemed like something I’d carry forever.
During my childhood and adolescence, the dominant narrative was that people who didn’t conform to heteronormative expectations would face hardship and uncertain futures. The message was implicit but clear: you will be miserable, less valuable, unloved, and always “other.”
A new era
In the late 1970s, as Spain transitioned to democracy, LGBTQ+ activists began to organise. Many of them were fierce trans women on the front line who led the charge, demanding not just visibility but structural change: access to housing, healthcare, and labour rights. Their courage laid the groundwork for a movement that would reshape the society. My parents were born in a broken country; I was lucky to be born in a young democracy.
By 2005, Spain became the third country in the world to legalise same-sex marriage and adoption. The cultural impact of this law was massive. Societal perceptions shifted dramatically. Rights, visibility, and representation transforming realities and opening new possibilities.
Since then, Spain has made significant progress, introducing anti-discrimination protections in employment, education, and healthcare, granting gay men the right to donate blood and legalising same-sex marriage. While these milestones represent important victories, they have been often mistaken for a sign of completion, captured in sentiments like, “you can start a family now, there’s nothing left to fight for”. However, equality and representation remains an ongoing struggle.
Fast forward: I became a confident, queer adult. I now have the tools to shape myself based on my aspirations. I own my identity, unburdened by the fears and prejudices of others. I found my place, my people, even love.
Becoming a queer parent
After more than a decade together, my partner and I decided to expand our family. Thanks to Spain’s public healthcare system, we were able to have a child last year through assisted reproduction as a lesbian couple fully covered by Social Security. This includes fertility treatments for LGBTQ+ people, single mothers, and heterosexual couples. However, some techniques, like the ROPA method (Reception of Oocytes from Partner), are not covered.
We underwent fertility treatment at a public hospital, where the medical team was incredibly caring and supportive. We welcomed our child in the summer of 2024. Thanks to the 2023 “Trans Law,” my partner and I didn’t need to be married to access equal parental rights. We both enjoyed the same 16-week maternity leave, plus breastfeeding days, just like heterosexual couples.
Of all the things I was told I’d miss out on because of who I am, becoming a mother has been an unexpected, immeasurable joy. I’m proud to help make the diversity of families visible in form, structure, and bond.
But visibility alone isn’t enough. Old narratives are emerging and endangering our space and existence. In 2023, the Community of Madrid amended its LGBTQ+ laws, becoming the first jurisdiction in Europe to remove penalties for discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. It is a stark reminder that rights are fragile and can be reversed and that progress must be protected.
Pride began as a protest. It remains a symbol of hope, of resistance, and of progress. Pride is a legacy and a promise that we can imagine and build better futures for everyone.
That’s something I hope to teach my child.
1 “Queer” is a word that requires context. As an umbrella term, it can have many meanings. Despite its complex and sometimes painful history, “queer” can describe something that doesn’t fit anywhere else — it can be inclusive and joyful. Taking ownership of language is a form of empowerment.)