The best friends who are raising a child together.

Natasha Bakht, 47, and Lynda Collins, 45, are friends and neighbours who have been legally co-parenting their nine-year-old son, Elaan, since 2016. Here they tell Radhika Sanghani all about their unconventional family set-up – believed to be the first of its kind in the world. Photography by Jessica Deeks

I don’t feel possessive as his biological mother. I love how much Lynda loves him

Natasha

When I was 36 and working as a professor of law at the University of Ottawa, I was at a stage where I knew I wanted to have children. I was single, but there was no reason for me not to have a child, as I was in a good place in my life and financially stable. After conversations with family and friends, who were all incredibly supportive, I decided to go through the artificial-insemination process.

It didn’t take long for me to get pregnant. I shared the news with close friends in Toronto – my best friend was going to be my birth coach – and my colleagues in Ottawa. When I told Lynda, another law professor at the university, she suggested, ‘Maybe you should have an additional birth coach – someone in the city who’s your go-to person.’ Jokingly, but also seriously, she said: ‘I’d like to apply for that position.’

Toronto is four hours away, so it made sense to have someone nearby. We weren’t hugely close at the time, but we got on well. I’d been the one to recruit her to the university, we had a lot in common – from our progressive politics to our belief in social justice – and we were already spending time together outside of work. She’s much more outdoorsy than me so she introduced me to the provincial parks nearby, and we’d go for hikes. One day we really bonded when I was complaining about the maternity clothes in Ottawa. I didn’t have a car, so she drove me to Montreal and we spent hours shopping for law-appropriate maternity wear.

She got a cellphone for the first time during my pregnancy, which meant that she was there when Elaan was born by emergency C-section in February 2010. She just fell in love with him. They bonded quickly, and she found it hard to leave. She came over every single day that month, making a beeline for the baby as soon as she got in. I spent the next 10 months of my maternity leave in Toronto with family, but Lynda would visit us often when she missed him.

It was during that time that Elaan’s medical issues started to arise. We began to realise that he wasn’t meeting developmental milestones. An MRI showed a brain condition, but no one was able to say if he’d be able to talk, or walk, or sit on his own. There was a short period when we weren’t sure if it was indicative of a disability, or fatal, and Lynda was a constant source of support in those days.

By the time he was one, he had been diagnosed with cerebral palsy, epilepsy and cortical visual impairment, which means he may see colours and proportions differently to the rest of us. Later he was also diagnosed with asthma and sleep apnoea. That was a very difficult time. The truth is you have certain expectations of childrearing and can’t ever prepare for all the possibilities. I was also completely sleep-deprived.

The one thing Lynda really brought to my experience at that time, which changed my perspective on raising a child with a disability, was this: we know who he is and we adore him. Nothing will change that, and we’ll give him the best possible life. I knew that intellectually, but Lynda gave me that perspective that other people – like my distraught parents – couldn’t give me. She has an amazing ability to be a thoughtful optimist, and now we see Elaan as the incredible person he is, and not as a series of medical impairments.

I was daunted by the thought of eventually moving back to Ottawa, raising Elaan alone with all his conditions and going back to work. But Lynda said, ‘Don’t worry, I can help you, and I’ll be there for you.’ She started spending eight hours a day in the apartment, eventually moving into the building next door to mine to be near us. And when the condo above mine came up for sale, she bought it immediately.

Since then, we’ve lived our lives as close friends raising a child together. But we never thought of it like that – until a colleague of ours came over and thought we were a couple. When we said we weren’t, she said, ‘Oh, but you’re a family.’ It was true: Lynda had been parenting Elaan for years, even though we hadn’t recognised it in that way. Even our families were close – our moms had become friends. We were very much in a family-like relationship, but it took a while for us to see that ourselves, because it wasn’t a usual family set-up.

We decided to make it official a few years ago. It was Lynda’s idea. She’d been looking into the possibility of having a child on her own like I did, or adopting. But she realised she already had a child in her life – one who needed her very much – and she asked me whether it was OK to adopt Elaan. Once I thought about it, it made perfect sense. I felt really happy about making their bond legal.

I don’t feel possessive about him as his biological mother. I love how much Lynda loves him; one of the best things about parenting is seeing the joy this kid brings to your family and loved ones.

In the end, Lynda didn’t officially adopt Elaan because that option wasn’t legally available to us, as we’re not spouses. We could have challenged that legislation, but it would have been really expensive. So instead, with our expertise in law, we decided to do a declaration of parentage, which required affidavits from family and experts about Lynda’s parenting of Elaan. Within a few months, we received a positive result. We understand this appears to make us the first friends in the world to legally co-parent a child in this way.

We had a big party to celebrate when it was done, and all our friends and family were so supportive. Initially friends would just invite one of us to dinner, but now it’s assumed that if one of us is invited, then all three of us are coming along. When we meet new people, they often assume we’re a couple. But we’ve been lucky never to have any negative reactions when we explain our set-up.

We’re not perfect people who live a life without any disagreements, but we’re a good team. We agree on the important stuff: that we want Elaan to have a good, active life. There are more challenges as he gets bigger – he’s now nine – especially with caregivers. He needs assistance with all aspects of daily life, and can’t walk or sit up on his own, but he has equipment that helps him walk, and a standing frame to stretch his bones.

His cognition is very good. He understands most of what we say, and even understands when I speak Urdu to my family. He’s started learning the sounds of the letters, and knows his alphabet. Last year he started reading short words. He has technology to help him communicate, and without it we use his smile as a yes, to ask if he wants stories or music.

Lynda and I find that if we’re irritated with each other, or snapping – which is completely normal in any relationship, sexual or not – it usually means we’re tired, and need to find some more help. Lynda loves nature,

so she sometimes goes off for a few days on hiking trips. I’d say the fact we’re friends helps us communicate more. I miss her as a co-parent when she’s away, but also as a friend to watch the tennis with. We’re now at a stage where we come and go from each other’s apartments, and think of them as different wings to the same home.

Elaan sleeps in my apartment, but he has a wheelchair and other equipment at Lynda’s, as well as books, toys and clothes, so it’s very much home for him there too. He calls me Mama and Lynda Lyndie-mom. At the start she was Auntie Lyndie, but as she parented more, she gradually became Lyndie-mom. It’s nicer for her and Elaan, but also connotes her relationship with Elaan to others.

We do have a certain amount of separateness to live our own lives – Lynda is now dating someone, and even though I’ve been single since having Elaan, I’m hoping to do the same one day – but there’s also very much a sense of unity and togetherness. We’re a family, and we always will be.

Lynda

When I met Natasha I was 32, single, and working at the University of Ottawa. I offered to be her birth coach because she needed someone and I thought I’d be relatively good at it. I couldn’t have predicted falling for Elaan, but I fell in love with him the moment he was born. He was in the intensive-care unit for a few days and I spent all my time in hospital with him and Natasha until I could bring them home. When her family arrived, I was visiting every day. I kept up regular visits when she went to live with her parents in Toronto because I felt very bonded to Elaan and wanted to be with him. But we really started to develop a co-parenting vibe when he began going through medical issues.

Both my parents are doctors, and my mother was a brain injury rehab doctor for 40 years, so I had experience of people creating great lives with brain injuries. I was so relieved to hear Elaan had a brain injury rather than a foetal metabolic injury, which is a different perspective, but I think it really helped Natasha. She was initially upset and concerned, and wondering what the future would hold, but she was so in love with him too, and he was such a fun baby – he’s still such a fun nine-year-old – that she soon stopped feeling depressed by the news. She said after spending so much time with him it was impossible not to feel happy.

That first year was challenging and we went through a lot together, like when there was a chance he wouldn’t make it. As university professors we have flexibility in our schedules, so I was able to be there for her a lot, especially during all the medical stuff. But looking back, what really brought us closer together was the fun of spending time together with Elaan.

When he was around five, I started thinking of having a child of my own. I was single and that was an emotional thing for me, wrestling with what I wanted. But I remember having a moment of clarity and thinking, why would I adopt a baby I’ve never met when I have Elaan? That night I said to Natasha, ‘No pressure and take your time to think about it, but would you be up for me adopting Elaan?’ She said, ‘Yes, definitely.’

We didn’t move forward for a while because Natasha wanted her family to feel comfortable. But they were all totally supportive. My mom says that as soon as I told her I had the intention to adopt him, Elaan became her grandson right away. I felt really excited, but it also felt really natural and gradual. In many ways, it felt like a miracle even before the paperwork came through. It hit me just how amazing it was that I’d wanted to have a child, and suddenly had one without giving birth or adopting.

When I first started helping out, I didn’t make any of the decisions – there were big ones to be made – and I had to learn to be comfortable in that supporting role. In some ways it was a blessing because it freed me up to focus on just loving Elaan, rather than obsessing over practicalities. But by the time we decided to go through the legal process, I totally felt like a partner in parenting.

I would still say Natasha is the primary parent because he spends the nights at hers, and she does that shift. In an emergency situation, if he starts choking, I shout for Natasha. I have faith she can always pull him through; there’s definitely something special there.

I love Elaan and I’m doing my best, contributing everything I can. Financially we split all the big stuff, and generally pay 50/50 for things like clothing, though we’re not meticulous about it – there’s no need to rank things or analyse who’s giving what, and most of his care stuff is covered by insurance. I’m aware that Natasha is at the centre of his life and I support them both in that, but he’s also my son, and he’s embedded in a network where he has close relationships with grandparents, caregivers, and now my partner.

I’ve been with her for three years now, and she was a friend before we got together, so she already knew about my unconventional family. She really adores Elaan; they get along wonderfully well.

Overall, co-parenting has been incredibly easy and smooth, but there have been moments we’ve had to negotiate. Natasha and I have had to think about our time together as a friendship and partnership, making sure we get the time to talk and connect. I now have to learn to balance couple time as well, so my partner gets date nights, not just changing diapers all day. You have to be thoughtful about it, but it all comes down to communication. We know each other so well now, we can finish each other’s sentences. And when we are unreasonable or irritable with each other, we talk things out.

Our homes aren’t really large enough for all Elaan’s equipment now that he’s getting bigger, so we’re thinking about moving in the future. We want to make sure that whatever space we choose, there’s enough room for each of us to have our own space as well, so a partner and family can come to visit regularly. We’ve also bought a condo for Elaan in our current building, so when he turns 21 and doesn’t want to live with his parents any more, he can live there with attendant care.

A lot of people ask if we think our set-up is better than conventional parenting in that we don’t have romantic dramas or anything. But we don’t think that at all. We just hope people form happy families; that’s all that matters. It is great to have this on the table as an option. Women have always been good at forming close relationships. In the 1990s, millions of women discovered you don’t have to link love with having a child – if you don’t find a partner, you can still have a child. Now we’re saying you can have a child and a co-parent even if you don’t find a romantic partner.

People ask if we think our set-up is better as we don’t have romantic dramas