In June, Alphonso Mills, 30, and his fiancé Ja’Mel Ware, 33, will become fathers. They shared the news of their expanding family in a short video posted on their respective social media accounts on Feb 22, marking the 22nd week of their baby’s development. While Black queer couples are frequently raising children that are both biological and adoptive, especially in the South, Ware, who identifies as a queer transmasculine man and was assigned female at birth is carrying the couple’s first child. On testosterone for over a decade, Ware says he never imagined that he’d one day have to decide to stop receiving gender-affirming hormones in order to conceive, but that was before he met Mills. 

Ware proposed in November 2020, during a trip to Walt Disney World after dating Mills for two years. It was a surprise affirmation of their commitment to each other that Mills later reciprocated with a proposal of his own. 

“There was just something about our connection that made me realize as long as I could do this, I would do it,” Ware says. 

The expectant fathers tell The Reckoning that expanding their family to include children has always been a topic of discussion from the very beginning of their relationship. And for Ware, the reality of birthing a child as a transmasculine man has been filled with both joy and an incessant need internally, and externally from others, to further interrogate his gender identity as his body changes throughout his pregnancy. 

“I know who I am,” Ware says. “I am firm in my belief, in my understanding of who God made me and how I present myself in this world. But what does it mean for the world to see a pregnant man? For the world to know a man menstruates? What does that mean? I’ve been trying to figure out this language—how to explain to people the difference between sex and gender,” he said. 

In the United States, sex and gender are often incorrectly viewed as interchangeable;  whereas sex has been traditionally used to place individuals in one of two categories based on their genitalia, gender denotes a range of identities that may not always align with an individual’s established sex. 

“Ultimately, the concepts of gender and sex are socially constructed. This means that we as a society assign sex and gender to people based on socially agreed-upon characteristics,” writes KC Clements in a medically reviewed article by Alana Biggers, M.D., MPH and published in Healthline.  

“I have no issue with my sex. And I’m not speaking for all trans people. I'm speaking for myself because there are some trans individuals whose sex and gender must align, and that is their journey. But it's never been a huge thing for me for my sex and gender to align,” Ware adds. 

And because the pair are aware of how cruel society can be towards transgender people in general, much less a visibly pregnant Black transgender man, Ware has made the decision to isolate himself from the world for his own safety and to shield their unborn child from any potential negative energy. 

“I don't feel the need to put myself in a place every single day to have to fight for who I know that I am because the world is not ready to accept that one's gender does not have to align with one’s sex,” Ware says. 

As his partner, Mills says it’s his job to offer daily affirmations of love and support, “whether you’re high or low, as Janelle Monáe says.” 

“Sometimes it's just about being there,” he said. “And then holding him when he's feeling a [kind of] way or talking through stuff or just being an ear for him to get his emotions out. It’s given me the ability to expand my capacity and responsibility.”

And with the summer arrival of their bundle of joy created via natural conception to gender-fluid and transmasculine parents, Mills and Ware are provoking all kinds of questions from everyone, including their immediate family about how they plan to raise their child. 

Courageous Conversations 

The couple waited until after the first trimester—around 12 weeks when the miscarriage risk greatly decreases to announce that their family of two was now becoming three. The pair broke the baby news by shipping framed ultrasound pictures and onesies that read, “You’re going to be grandparents” as gifts to Mills’ parents. 

“We were tracking it like, okay, it says it was delivered. We haven't gotten the phone call yet,” Ware recalls. “What's going on?” 

“My mother called me just crying. She cried for probably the first two minutes. She's excited. She and my father,” Mills says. 

“I told a mentor and my aunt who was my mother's sister because it was important that she knew. She has always been an advocate for me. I felt okay telling her,” Ware said. 

And then they were bombarded with questions. How did they plan to raise the baby? Who's going to be responsible for fulfilling the traditional roles of mother and father in their non-traditional queer relationship?

“To be honest, I can tell that it's a lot for them [Mills’ parents] to kind of grapple with,” said Mills. “And my answer to them usually is, you know, this is a lot for us to learn. We're figuring this out as we go. And we're not going to be perfect, just like y'all weren't perfect. What I have asked of them as we figure it out is that you respect our decisions on how we choose to raise our child,” he said. 

Ware and Mills are planning to affirm the sex their baby is assigned at birth, but will allow their child to inform them about their gender as they mature. 

“We don't know the gender, nor do we know the sex. We’ll find out the sex when the baby is born and we’ll raise them according to whatever society says aligns with their gender and sex until they tell us otherwise if they tell us otherwise,” said Ware. 

While Mills says he feels the excitement from his parents, (he is the oldest of two, and currently the only sibling to give his parents a grandchild) Ware, who will deliver the first grandchild describes feeling ignored and neglected by some members of both families. 

“When someone is pregnant, particularly when women are pregnant, there is a lot of fawning and care and checking upon. And I have not experienced that,” Ware said. “Now his uncle checks on me at least two or three, sometimes four times a week. I can tell that he's excited, not just about the baby, but about us growing our family. I feel like some relatives are just excited about the baby.” 

Whether due to his parent's conservative Christian beliefs or the fact that both Mills and Ware are transparent about living with HIV, neither family seemed to be prepared for the possibility of the two men becoming parents. 

“People don't know that it's even possible,” Mills says. “People don't realize that if both of us take care of ourselves, not just Ja’Mel, but if I also make sure that I'm taking my medication every day and I've reached the level of being undetectable, which I have, then that just even further protects our child and ensures that we are able to have a child that is not living with HIV, even though both of us are.”

For Ware, who was born with HIV, his pregnancy provides an opportunity to give his child what his late mother wished she was able to give him. 

“To live with the virus and know that the next generation doesn't have to go through the same struggles I had my entire life—it has been the biggest motivator for me,” Ware says. 

He adds that their unborn child has given him a new reason not to miss any doses of his antiretroviral (ARV) medication, to attend every doctor’s appointment, and to take care of himself. 

“I know that our child will be HIV-free,” he said. 

The City Too Busy To Hate 

Most people don’t think twice about showing up for routine doctor visits or making a necessary trip to the emergency room for medical care, but for transgender individuals, especially pregnant transgender men, the experience can be triggering. Thankfully, Ware lives in Atlanta, where gender is expansive and access to quality healthcare for transgender people is a priority. 

“I can’t imagine doing this in any other city. I can’t imagine doing this 25 miles outside of Atlanta,” Ware said through laughter with a keen awareness that life is different for LGBTQ+ people elsewhere in Georgia. 

“There was a moment when I was in the ER and they took my wristband off and replaced it with one that said, female. That was probably the most jarring thing that happened to me,” he said. “But everybody was respectful. They respected my pronouns. If they could not wrap their head around my pronouns, they just used my name, which is all trans people ask. We’d rather you just use our name than misgender us.”

Ware tells The Reckoning that he has received top-notch care from the medical professionals at Emory Midtown Hospital and is one of several pregnant transgender men that has been cared for by his obstetrician. He plans to release a resource guide for other pregnant transgender men in the near future. 

Mills and Ware say they do not want people to see them as relationship goals but as an example of hope.

“I'm a thorough believer that when you keep God at the center, he is going to bless you just as you are,” said Mills. “But you have to be who you are fully for him to bless you, anything else is not real. I hope our story inspires people to do that.”

Editors Note: Alphonso Mills uses He/She pronouns. For this article and with his approval, only one pronoun is used. Ja’Mel Ware uses He/Him pronouns.

(Cover Photo of Alphonso Mills & Ja’Mel Ware by Darkroom Media)

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