Blind Sided by Puberty

Sailing along and then, BAM!  Blind sided.  Rug pulled out from under your feet.  Your sense of stability...gone.  Two months ago I went to our support group where I learned that D could not be on blockers indefinitely, as I had originally thought.  I thought he could just use that "pause button" and once we knew for sure that he really wanted to be androgynous, remove the gonads (the thing that makes your body's hormones) and be done with it all.  HA.  It was certainly simple in my mind.  What I didn't know was that bone density is mainly created during puberty.  If he didn't have puberty, then his likely-hood of very early osteoporosis was fairly certain.  How then, do you ask a child which puberty they want to go through, if they don't want to be defined as a man, or as a woman?

I felt like vomiting as I tried talking to him about it.  We reviewed our original "game plan", and then I told him what I had learned at group the night before.  What I was told we had to do: pick a puberty.  Again, his answer was "Neither."  Now don't get me wrong.  I understand that lots of kids don't want to deal with puberty.  Please don't confuse this with that kind of experience.  This isn't about not wanting to deal with an inconvenience. This is about not wanting the end result of either puberty.  Not wanting to be a grown male, or a grown female.  We talked about the pros and cons of each puberty for him.

Male-
Pros: easy, no drugs, blockers, Dad isn't overly masculine in physical appearance, doesn't have a ton of body hair, no prominent Adam's apple, or a deep voice.  Maybe we could skate through this!
Cons: Wouldn't fit his female expression (how he dresses). No way to know how his voice would really change.  Dreaded facial hair.  Losing hair on his head.
Those last two cons were what kept him up late at night as a little kid.  The big bad monsters under his bed.

Female-
Pros: At least his body would match his expression (it would make sense visually to other people).  He doesn't dislike the female body, nor does it stress him out to think of having one.
Cons: Cost, pain and discomfort for cross hormones and blockers.  Doesn't really want a female body.  No way to really know that the cross hormones would be successful in causing proper bone density... it is all new, uncharted waters for everyone.

We decided that if we had to pick one, that female was the most sensible. 

Ok, trying to sail along with this new concept.  Trying to regain some navigation and a feeling of stability.  Cue Blind Side number 2: If you don't use it, you'll lose it.  Huh?

So it turns out that if he never experiences his male puberty, that his body will likely not be able to function in a sexual manner.  Let's just say that as difficult as it was to talk to a kid about understanding and picking a puberty, trying to explain to a kid (who simply can not grasp what sex could possibly feel like) that his choice in not having a male puberty, may leave him unable to experience sex, was practically impossible.  Yeah, there will be other options, and ways to work around that, as many adults have to deal with and go on to live happy, fulfilled, sexual lives.  But he will never really know what he is missing out on.  How can someone make a decision like that? 

Sigh.  So I bite the bullet and attempt that tough conversation.  The kind where you feel like it isn't a fair question.  The kind where you feel like no matter the answer, you still will be torn up about even asking it.  His answer was "Ok, that's fine."  I tried explaining it all again, explaining that how he loves his best friend would kinda be it, and "will that be enough?"  But still the same answer.  Somehow for the first time, I feel like he just doesn't know what he is saying goodbye to.  For the first time in this whole roller coaster of a ride, I doubt my son.

And then I think back on my mantra.  "So what?" And I realize, maybe love really is far more important.  Maybe at the young age of 10, he, my little soul teacher, has it more figured out that 90% of teens and 20 somethings.  Heck, more figured out that most men on the planet.  That life might just be far simpler and richer, if you just got to love your best friend, and not worry about all that other stuff.

It's Still Here

It's still here.  Fear. Hanging in the air like old fish.  I can't seem to shake it.  I thought we were over this.  I thought we had made progress.  But here it is again, clinging on and I can't get rid of it.

Last night he said it again, "I don't want to grow up.  I want to be little forever."
Ugh.  "Why?  What did I do wrong?  Why can't I fix this?" I think.  All I can answer is, "what do you mean, honey?".
"I don't want to grow up," he says again.
I ran through all the options, all the questions.  "Do you not want your body to get bigger?",  "Do you not want your body to change?", "Do you not like cleaning up?",  "Do you like how little kids look better than grown ups?", "Do you want to go to pee in a diaper?", "Do you think you can't have fun when you are a grown up?"... and on and on and on.  The only things that had a response other than "No" from him, were 3 things.  What these three things mean, I am left to dissect.

1.
The first question I asked, that resulted in an answer was, "Do you think little kids are cute?"
"Yes... and I'm not," he whispered slowly.
Oh dear.  We are back at this deep fear of not liking his own body.  This is one I may never be able to help him with.  I try.  He has never been deprived of reassurance.  Compliments on his appearance, his outfit choices, when his eyes sparkle, when his hair has that shampoo commercial bounce.  Not a day goes by without a genuine compliment about something in his appearance. Clearly this confidence can not come from me.  He has to feel it, and he doesn't.  I don't know why.  When I look at him, he just glows to me.  Such pure and utter beauty.  How can he not see that?

2.
"I don't want to know anything," He said.
"You mean you don't like knowing about things?  Like when you asked if flamingos fly (a recent discussion), you don't want to know the answer to that?"  I replied.
"I just want to be a little kid and not know anything," he said again.
He couldn't put his finger on it, and neither could I.  The only thing I can guess with this one is that he wants to be back at an age where he didn't know he was different.  When being a toddler boy in a princess dress was ok and totally normal for any little kid.  I hope my questions helped him to dig further, so that he can come up with some answers for himself, but I don't know.

3.
"What is it that toddlers can do that you can't?" I asked him.
"They get to nurse," he said.
Good God in heaven.  WHY? If ever there was a child who should have had enough, it was him.  He should be like "Yeah, I had 6 years of that.  I am good."  Yes, you heard me.  6 freeking years.  If anyone thinks a mother nurses her child beyond the age of 2 for selfish reasons, they are dead wrong.  Oh yeah, I know, acrobatic nursing toddlers are so adorable when they are hanging upside down and trying to nurse while you are typing/working/reading/doing everything.  Nursing 3 children at one time when God only gave you two boobs is a challenge, every minute, every day.  When we were surprised with our third child and I was still nursing my 6 month old, I had no intention of stopping, so I tandem nursed through that pregnancy.  Once he was born, I continued nursing both babies because I was committed to extended nursing my children and I wasn't going to let the pregnancy stop my middle child from having all the benefits.  This was fine with D for awhile, then he realized his little brothers were getting something he wasn't.  He had been weaned at 2.5 years, a great and healthy start for a human child (btw, did you know anthropologists think we should nurse our young for 5+ years?).  He was now 4, so why did he feel like he wanted more?  I didn't know.  I had heard that older siblings often just wanted to know they were still loved and accepted and would "test the waters", so to speak.  So I let him try, but it wasn't just a one time deal.  He wanted milk every time his brothers had it.  I consulted experts, I talked to friends, I observed my kids and I listened to my heart.  My lactation consultant didn't know the answer either, but she did give me one piece of advice that stuck in my head.
"Are you ok with nursing him?" She asked.
"Yes," I answered. "But I am afraid I am going to screw him up."
"If he is asking for this, and you are ok with it, maybe you don't need to know the reason right now," She said.
That is what stuck for me.  The turning point in our nursing relationship.  Ok, I don't need to know why.  I just need to love him and support him.  So I did.  Looking back I can see that this period in his life was when he was figuring out that he was gender-variant.  Less than a year later, he started his outer transformation.  I am thankful that I gave him the space and support to find himself during a very difficult time for him.  I didn't know what he was going through, I just knew he needed me and he didn't even know why.  We nursed off and on until age 6, one year after he made his wish to become a girl.  We stopped on his 6th birthday.  He still asks, 3 birthdays later, to nurse on his birthday.  I have now weaned his younger brothers, and he knows I only make "soy sauce" now, so it is sort of a joke.  Maybe this rose to the surface because his birthday was two weeks ago, and it is still floating on top.

But there is more fear hanging in the air.  Mine.  I fear that people read my blog looking to blame me and find reasons why and how I screwed up my kid.  I fear that people will read that I nursed my kid beyond 1 year and say, "Bingo".  I fear that people will find any excuse to point the finger in my direction because "there has to be some reason".  My child can't just be who he is, because he is.

Sometimes no matter how hard I try, I can't shake fear.  Maybe he can't either.  That isn't going to stop us from trying.

The First Shirt

 I sat in my bedroom, sorting the laundry.  The stained and worn tee stood out from the bunch.  Shorter than the others, no longer just a little too small.  I picked it up and slowly ran my fingers over its edges, smoothing it out on the bed.  Why is it so hard to give this one up?  I picked it up and hugged it... and smelled it... something I do more now that my mom has passed.  Why can't I let go of this one?  The aqua size medium girls tee with gathered sleeves.  It was D's first girl's shirt.  Was it because I sat there at the store, staring at it for so long, wondering if gathered sleeves really were such a big deal?  Was it because it was his favorite color at the time, and it was worn often in those early days of his new identity?  Whatever it was, it held on tight to me, like it was tied to my chest.  So many memories in that shirt.  Was I just being ridiculous?  I slowly folded it, carefully setting it aside.  A little while later, D walked in.

"Honey?  Is this one too small?"  I asked, trying to hide my hesitation.
He looked at me with sad eyes and a turned down mouth.  He whispered "Yeah, but please don't give it away.  I want to keep it."
"I don't think I could ever give this one away." I replied.  We looked at each other for a minute and he came over and hugged me.
"I don't want to grow up" he said.  "I want to get smaller, not bigger."
"I know.  But think of all the little kids who you can help.  All the little kids who are just like you, and need someone older to remind them it's ok to just be who they are" I responded.  Growing up has been a huge, gut wrenching struggle for him.  For nearly 2 years, he would lie in bed at night, crying and worrying about getting older, unable to sleep for hours.
"But people won't think I am pretty when I lose my hair and have a beard", he used to say.
 It took us a long time to work through that.  Only in this last year has he finally felt it was not the end of the world to grow up.  I think it had a lot to do with "The Book" (The Transgender Child), making him feel ok to be gender-variant.

I used to tell him "Whatever you are worried about, whatever you feel you need to change about yourself so you can be comfortable, we can do it.  Doctors can do anything.  If you want boobs, done.  Fake hair, done.  Another arm, well... maybe not that, but you get the idea." I have always tried hard to have open and honest conversations with him, adding in a little humor to lighten the load.  We are a silly house, so I never wanted our important talks to feel important.  I just wanted them to happen, often.  I think that is the key.  He has to trust me enough to let me hear his process, to take me on his journey, and to not make it feel like a struggle or that there would be any judgement.  I don't want to be the baggage, I want to be the map.  But he has to be the explorer.

So there we were, snuggling and staring at an old beat up shirt.  Not ready to let go.  Holding on to the old life vest, that made it feel safe to dangle our toes in the water.

The Leotard

Not much in the way of clothing strikes fear in my heart anymore.  Except... swimsuits and leotards.  Shhh.  It is my secret.  Yeah, I still struggle with what to do if someone sees a bulge on my kid where they think it shouldn't be.  People who know us, know D is a boy, so it wouldn't matter to them.  People who don't know us, assume D is a girl and we leave it at that.  But what would they think if they assume he is a girl and their eyes wander south... and notice he is not?  I should remind myself of one of my favorite mantras by our beloved Dr. Seuss: "Those that matter, don't mind, and those that mind, don't matter."  I wish that was the case this time.  The problem with believing that is all it will take is one person to notice, whisper to the next, and we have a whole flurry of comments that may not be appropriately timed.  Don't get me wrong, I love to talk about gender diversity.  I love to explain to people how there are 4 parts to gender identity and that they are all independent.  I love when I am surprised with a parent saying "Wow.  My child is like that.  I just thought s/he was gay".  We all get so afraid of what others will think and we shut this stuff up inside us.  But it always escapes, no matter how hard we try.  Fear and hate are tricky like that.  They ooze out of us when we least expect it.  This time my fear oozed out.

We were shopping last week for a new outfit for Arial class.  I am thrilled that D has finally found a hobby he loves.  He hasn't tried anything organized since the t-ball debacle of 2009.  I knew t-ball was not the sport for him, but I think Daddy was still holding on to hope that he would be one of those "catch playing sons".  We are finally in a good place now, a new thrilling hobby, meeting new kids, and a supportive staff.  But oh dear, there is the wardrobe.  I think we did a pretty good job camouflaging the "package" with a swim skirt over a pair of leggings, but then, fear oozed out.  I started thinking people might wonder why he only had one outfit to wear to class, and started thinking parents may wonder if I ever wash it.  Ha!  That pesky fear.  We were at the store and happened to find a metallic silver and black leotard.  He loved it of course, so we bought it and a mini skirt with shorts attached.  Ooops.  I forgot to check the sizes.  The mini skirt is two sizes too small, so that one is out.  The leotard is stretchy, and you guessed it, too small.  Cue the horror music.  He still wants to wear it.  Too small.  Without the skirt.  I may need a fainting couch.  I gulped as he got dressed for class yesterday and pulled on his shiny new leotard.

I said "How about this over it, or the leggings over the leotard?" holding up a pair of shorts.
"No.  I like it like this." D replied.
Gulp.  My inner "Scrubs" dialogue played out as I sat there, speechless, hoping for an answer that wouldn't crush my child now, or at class.  I kept hearing the parents at the last gender support group talking about how it breaks their hearts to see their kids putting limits on themselves because of their bodies.  How they put limits on their kids because of their bodies.  I heard the regret and sadness in their voices and it echoed in my ears.

"No"  I told myself.  "Leave it alone.  Let him be who he is.  If someone says something, deal with it then.  Do not let your fear ooze out."  So we went to class.  No one commented.  I caught myself "checking" from across the room a few times to see how much the bulge was noticeable.  Then I told myself to let it go.  He was having fun.  Fear will not win today.

We have been waiting... for a friend like you.

For my son, finding that best friend has been a hard task.  We homeschool which makes it a little harder, he refuses to take formal classes, and our weekly homeschool parkday hasn't resulted in that hard and fast friend that I really think he needs.  He loves hanging out with his brothers, and makes friends readily with all the children who come to our house frequently, but I think there are times when he desperately wants to be understood completely.  I was praying that he would find this friend when we started going to the Children's Hospital LA gender support group.

I got butterflies when I saw him hanging out with a child his age in the tree house.  When I spoke to the child, I was thrilled that she was a kind and respectful spirit.  On the drive home, I asked the kids "Who was the girl in the tree house?"
"Jane"
"Was she nice?"
"Yes.  She is the only person we really played with today."
"Oh.  Do you want to come back and play with her next time?"
"YES."
"Thank goodness" I thought.  Maybe, just maybe, she will be the one.  I was excited to hear that Jane went home and told her friends about my son, and that she was excited too.  It has been a few months and I am thrilled to say that the kids continue to talk about "Jane" and we are all excited to play this weekend at our upcoming support group.  I hope that they can provide the connection for each other that is so needed in childhood, a friend who just "gets you". 

Fingers crossed.

Surrogacy

When I tell people I want to become a surrogate, I usually get one of two responses:
"Wow!  That is so incredible.  You are an angel to give such a gift to someone else."
"Why would you do that?  There are already so many children in this world without homes."

The thing is, I don't feel like I am doing either.  I kinda feel selfish.  I love birth.  I love being pregnant.  It is one time in my life that I feel like my body is doing truly amazing things and I am in awe over its ability.  I love my firm round tummy, feeling all the kicks inside it, and expect my swollen ankles and achy body.  I spent my whole life being told "You have some great child-bearing hips!" and think 3 uses of those hips is just not enough.  Labor is somewhat predictable for me and manageable by just sitting in a hot shower through the strongest contractions.  Giving birth at home is an amazing experience and I want to share how incredible that is with another couple.

When my friend told me about her miscarriage and inability to continue trying for another pregnancy, she was devastated and heartbroken.  It affected her so deeply.  I felt guilty that pregnancy and birth came so easily to me.  I remember thinking "I can do it for you".  I bit my tongue because that wasn't what she wanted, but it planted a seed in my heart.  Maybe I am not done just yet.  A year later when both my younger boys had fully weaned, I was ready.  In the process of finding out who my ideal Intended Parents were, I had an "ah-ha moment".  I realized that I would be truly fulfilled if I could find a couple with one or both Intended Parents that were transgender.  I figured that other surrogates might not have the same understanding that I have, regarding gender-variance and transgenderism and that I would quickly find this ideal couple.  After calling and emailing many agencies, I was disappointed to discover that none of the agencies had any current Intended Parents that fit my ideals, in fact, only one had ever had an Intended Parent that was transgender.  I was heartbroken.  I really wanted to find someone like my son to do this for, as sort of a full circle karma experience.  I figured that if I put this energy out into the universe, maybe someday someone would return the favor to my son, if he ever needed it.  Another aspect is the financial compensation.  I know those puberty blocker drugs are expensive and not covered by insurance.  I know I need to start now, so that I can give my son what he needs to be who he is inside.  There is nothing I won't do to make that happen for my son.  That is my job as his mother.  There is not a lot I can do on this journey that he is on.  All I can do is support him by giving him the solid foundation of love and respect that he needs and deserves, and provide him the tools that he needs to find himself.

So really, I am being selfish.  I want to experience the joy of pregnancy, exhilaration of birth, the positive energy of doing something good for someone else, and making the path a little easier for my son.  Maybe being selfish isn't always a bad thing.

What is Gender?

There is a great question posted by Pam regarding "gender".  I thought this lovely visual from itspronouncedmetrosexual.com would help explain.  The term Gender-Variant really just means someone doesn't fit into what society feels is appropriate for their biological sex.  It is all about society's views on what we can and can't do based on our organs.  Pretty darn ridiculous if you ask me!  Our son prefers all toys, clothing, styling, and play styles that our society would consider "female" preferences.  That is his "gender expression" and it would be considered female.  His identity also comes into the equation because at this time he is still figuring it out, but he is in the "two spirit" section on the diagram above.  His attraction has yet to be determined, it is entirely separate from the other categories listed in the diagram and develops in a different area of the brain, sometime before puberty.  Biological sex is a touchy subject.  Ask a gender-variant or transgender person what is in their pants and you will probably be offending them.  How would you feel if someone asked you?  A bit intrusive, right?  Our son is anatomically male.  I know your next thought... are we going to change that?  No.  Surprised?  Most transgender adults find that once everything else falls into place and their expression matches their identity, they no longer feel the need to surgically change their sex organs.  Some do, but most don't.  It is a tricky surgery and changes a lot of things, and for many people the benefits do not outweigh the risks.  I hope that our son has enough time to find his true identity and feel comfortable in his own skin.  I hope that he never wants to take that risk, but it will be up to him to decide at a much later date.  Some time before puberty we will start a drug called "puberty blockers", which is essentially like a pause button on puberty.  Just more time to figure it out before his body morphs into something he is not comfortable with.  I will explain more on blockers later.  For now we will continue to work on matching his expression with his identity and building a strong solid foundation of love and support.