In 2010 Ginger Gorman interviewed a gay couple about their struggle to become parents. When the men were uncovered as paedophiles Gorman was left with a deep sense of grief for the boy and questioned whether there was anything she could have done.

Dear Boy 1, you've become a number. Since your case ended up in court, I'm not allowed to identify you. But I know your name. In my head I say your name. I can see your face, clear as day. I see your sweet, shining eyes and your cheeky smile. I can even hear your little voice, imploring me to come and see your baby chickens. If I knew then what I know now, I would have done anything to stop the heinous crimes being perpetrated against you. I would have done anything to end your misery. But I didn't know. I had no idea. I'm so sorry.

In 2010 I interviewed two gay dads about their struggle to have a child via surrogacy. Those two men turned out to be paedophiles. The crimes they committed against their son are so horrendous that it's hard to even comprehend them.

In June that year I was the heavily pregnant Drive presenter of ABC Far North, based in Cairns. As I awaited the birth of my baby girl, something that had been bothering me for a long time started to drill into my consciousness.

I thought about the freedoms I had: I could get married, have a baby and generally get on with my business.

Sure, life had thrown me a few curve balls. But I'd never been routinely discriminated against. The people I know who are gay are not treated the same as everyone else. They are not equal. That's not just my opinion.

There's evidence that if you are gay, bisexual or transgender it can be a tough journey. You are more likely to have physical and mental health problems. You are more likely to have depression, experience violence, be homeless, take drugs and have suicidal thoughts.

The more I researched, the more compelled I was to cover the issue. This struck me as a significant opportunity to explore diversity in our community and hear the voices of those who usually aren't heard. While we don't always get it right at the ABC, we try to reflect a complex, changing society with many faces.

I wrote an open letter to Far North Queensland's Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender community asking for people to come forward with their stories. The response was powerful, humbling and sometimes shocking.

Mais described being the subject of a violent assault because of his gender identity. The result was a crack to his skull and severe, ongoing pain.

Trish (not her real name) was a young mother with three children who was trapped; she loved her husband and children but was really a lesbian. There didn't seem to be a way out. It was hard not to be moved by the pain in her story.

From the scores of emails I received, I chose nine different stories. One of those was from a gay couple: Mark Newton and Peter Truong. In the email, they outlined their yearning to become fathers. The pair went on to describe how, after a great deal of difficulty, they eventually had a child via surrogacy in Russia. And that is how I found myself on the doorstep of a well-groomed Northern beaches home in June 2010.

As a reporter, you develop a pretty well-honed bullshit detector. It comes with the territory. We work at a furious pace to rolling, incessant deadlines. Often you have to turn up and make a snap judgement. We do our research but we don't have the luxury or the ability to background check every Mum or Dad we speak to. Gut instincts are important.

I can honestly say to you that when I met Newton, Truong and Boy 1 nothing appeared to be amiss.

It was a modern house with an off-white exterior. The gardens were manicured and a shiny child's bike lay on its side in the front yard.

Newton was a tall Caucasian with a receding hairline, blue eyes and a strong American accent. Truong was Vietnamese-Australian and much shorter in stature. He had thick black hair, a round face and a wide, toothy smile. The two men welcomed me into their home with a firm handshake.

Just like the outside of their house, the inside was immaculate. The family room was light and airy. Boy 1's toys were neatly stacked away and his name was written on the wall in wooden letters.

I sat between Newton and Truong on their couch as they described how they initially tried to have a baby with a surrogate in the United States. According to the couple, they had many failed attempts and the cost was becoming prohibitive. The pair decided to try Russia as a cheaper alternative.

Newton and Truong told me the Russian surrogate mother they had chosen got pregnant almost immediately via artificial insemination with Mark's sperm. It now looks likely that this is untrue. Authorities in the US believe Boy 1 was purchased from his Russian mother for $US8,000 and is not a blood relative of either man.

Like any five-year-old, Boy 1 was shy at first. After a while he opened up. He smiled and chatted and urged me to come and see his baby chickens. This is the moment that plays over and over in my mind like a home movie: the four of us are in the yard - the chicks cheeping loudly and running loose.

We chat about the chicks. Truong and Boy 1 are trying to catch a couple of them, with some trouble. Truong asks Boy 1 if he's fed the chicks today. Boy 1 says no. Truong tells him they would surely be very hungry by now. I ask Boy 1 if the particular chicken he has managed to catch has a name. Boy 1 replies that he hasn't figured out names yet but he might call this one "Fasty" – presumably because it is hard to catch. Newton agrees that this chick is indeed fast.

In retrospect the conversation was remarkable purely because of its ordinariness.

I snap several pictures of Boy 1 holding a baby chick up under his chin. He stands in between his two fathers. All three of them are smiling.

At the time I thought this photo was so sweet; it featured on the front page of my gender project's web page on the ABC. Now there's a sinister edge to it. This is the photo news organisations all over the world have published and re-published, with Boy 1's face blurred out to protect his identity.

There's another piece of my 2010 experience which is strange in retrospect, but for a totally different reason. Newton and Truong explained to me at length that it was difficult to get Boy 1 into Australia. They told me Australian customs quizzed them for hours at the airport.

At a later date, police were checking whether the couple had suitable equipment to raise a child: a bed, clothes and bottles.

At this point in the interview I said:

"Do you think that there was a suspicion there…[that] this must be something dodgy? There must be some paedophilic thing going on here?"

Newton replied: "Absolutely. Absolutely. I'm sure that was completely the concern".

My recollection of this moment was that both Newton and Truong were smiling at the absurdity of the idea they might somehow be suspect of something. Did these two smiles signify how uncomfortably close to the truth I was? Or were the smiles simply brazenness? I will never know.

"We're a family just like any other family," Newton said a few moments later.

Space to play or pause, M to mute, left and right arrows to seek, up and down arrows for volume. Watch Duration: 8 minutes 18 seconds 8 m Disturbing child abuse case links Australians to paedophile ring ( Caro Meldrum-Hanna )

When newspapers reported Newton and Truong were arrested in February 2012, my stomach sank. The pair were being investigated by the United States Postal Inspection Service and the Queensland Police as possible members of an international paedophile ring.

In my mind, I pictured Boy 1's angelic face. I hoped it wasn't true but suspected it probably was. Why would international policing agencies be cooperating on a case like this unless they had strong evidence?

Even so, the news that 42-year-old Newton was sentenced to 40 years in prison in a US Court after pleading guilty to conspiring to sexually exploit a child, Boy 1, and another count for conspiring to possess child pornography, came with a blow. Truong has also pleaded guilty and will be sentenced later this year for his crimes.

I have a deep sense of grief for Boy 1. From when he was just two weeks old, these animals sexually abused him. It's hard to think about or imagine the daily horror he endured. US authorities are understandably cagey about what has happened to him since his "dads" were arrested. After everything that has happened to Boy 1, it's important he's protected. The ABC has simply been told Boy 1 is "safe".

"Being a father was an honour and a privilege that amounted to the best six years of my life," Newton reportedly told the court minutes before his sentence was announced.

When reading this, I felt dizzy with anger. A pure rage that made my face burn. The word "privilege" implanted itself in my brain as if it had talons. I momentarily wished to stand before Newton and Truong and say this:

Being a parent is the most profound privilege that exists. Your only job is to love that child and keep him or her safe. Instead you have systematically perpetrated heinous sex crimes against your child since he was a baby. It is sickening and it is unforgiveable. What will become of your child after what you have done? Did you think about that?

Since Newton's sentencing, I have been subject to an orchestrated online hate campaign from people calling themselves conservatives, mostly based in the United States. Much of it is ranting and raving.

Closer to home the ABC has also received complaints about the radio and online story I did in 2010. (You will not find that story on the ABC's website now because the police requested the ABC pull it down to protect Boy 1's identity.)

It's hard to sift through the online rage and work out exactly what people are angry with me about. But I did find this anonymous quote on the web:

I think you'll find our beef with Ginger is the same beef we have with the whole pro-homosexual agenda. They are willing to turn a blind eye to the slippery slippery [sic] slopes of this obscene lifestyle and pretend that it's all so normal... Hate speech warning - a child deserves to have a mother and father (preferably biological).

And that's what the anger with me seems to come down to. Homophobia.

One of the real tragedies is that this abhorrent paedophilia has been linked to gay people. This current story is not a story about being gay. It's a story about two sexual predators who systematically abused their adopted son.

People who abuse children come in all shapes and sizes. They are gay, they are straight. They are everything in between. The only label you can possibly categorise them with is 'evil'.

Some of the hateful tweets and blog posts have questioned my journalistic integrity and accused me of assisting these paedophiles. My story went to air in July 2010. It was not until August 2011 that Newton and Truong came to the attention of New Zealand police. Until now, neither Newton or Truong had prior convictions. Unless you frequented paedophilic chat rooms online, there was no way to know that Newton and Truong weren't the pair of loving dads they presented themselves as.

When Caro Meldrum-Hanna's report on this story went to air on ABC TV's 730 program on Tuesday July 2, a friend of mine in Melbourne sent me a text message. "Wow. They look so normal", he wrote of Newton and Truong. And that's the uncomfortable truth about a case like this: hateful crimes can be done by people who look just like you and me.

For me, there is another truth to be salvaged from this quagmire. If I went back to June 2010 and I was faced with the same situation, would I do anything differently?

The answer is no, I wouldn't. ABC Local Radio has 60 stations and across the country we do thousands of interviews a month. We are forced to take people at face value. If we didn't, our radio programs wouldn't go to air.

In my 10 years with the ABC this is the first time something like this has happened to me. Yes, it's horrifying. Yes, I have been awake at night in darkness and despair thinking about the plight of Boy 1. But despite everything, I refuse to lose faith in humanity. I choose to believe that evil people are rare. Good, honest people on the other hand are not. Most of us are simply going about our daily lives as best as we can and, more often than you might think, we have an important story to tell.

Ginger Gorman is a Canberra-based presenter and reporter with the ABC. View her full profile here.