A lot has happened since my last post. If you didn’t read it, and don’t want to, the bare-bones of it is that my partner came out to me as translesbian (trans mtf) in November, and I am learning how to process this information. We’ve got a toddler, two cats, a dog, we live on my parents’ property, and they’re fairly conservative. This is a small town. Let’s get with the updates.
We told our parents. Hers first. Her mom is a total dingbat. I think I emphasized this last time. Actually I think I even mentioned we’d already told her last time, but I didn’t go into how it went. Her mom has been “supportive” in any way she knows how. She has suggested that my wife “just cross dress,” insisting that so many trans genders commit suicide so “why can’t you just be a cross dresser?” She’s explained to her that trans people commit suicide when they either a. never transition or b. transition and have zero support. Or worse, c. transition and lose everyone/thing in addition to being bullied and ridiculed.
She also kept insisting that my wife hurry and tell her sister, who is an INCREDIBLY religious person living across the country from us. We’re not religious. My wife identifies as agnostic, myself as atheist. My parents were raised Catholic (mom) and Protestant (dad). Wife’s sister is Baptist I think? Generally speaking I want no part of religion (*gasp!* Blasphemy!)… I could never explain why… but that’s for another topic. Wife has since told her sister. I will explain later.
My parents… man that was rough. I wrote a letter to them, and read it to them from my computer screen. Wife held my shaking hand. I cried. Dad did a lot of nodding. Mom crossed her arms and asked questions about things like freezing sperm, and whether they were last to know. They said something about how scary they must be for me to be so terrified. I honestly don’t remember the whole conversation – I was too out of it. Shaking like a leaf. Trying not to vomit.
My dad wants her to ‘get professional help’ before coming out to anyone else. We’ve been trying to find her help, but had some battles with the health insurance companies (three different ones, and like five different phone numbers ugh). It’s finally all sorted and she has an appointment next week, but this wasn’t fast enough for them and they’ve made that apparent.
Well we felt like we were slowly coming out left and right, but there were still many people we hadn’t told when our kid had an accident. Wife has been going to college dressed as a girl, and I had to meet her at the hospital with our toddler. A family friend drove us there since I don’t do so well with gore. Toddler had a gash on his lip that looked like you could slip a penny in. I’m sick just thinking about it.
Anyway, we met at the hospital, at which point I told the friend that she was transgender, while he tried not to stare gape-mouthed at her anxiously waiting for our son to get to the emergency room.
We found out later that this excursion had brought her transgenderness to the attention of a local who knows most of my family and began to blow up their phones with questions, answers to which they had none. Instead of just approaching us, they played telephone and now most of my family knows. Small town drama.
So, she told her sister over the phone. She’s concerned, asked if wife has sought guidance from God, etc. Now she wants to fly us to her house. We’re not 100% sure why (other than she wants to see us) but we have speculated. I’m nervous thinking about it, that we’ll let her down, but what can we do? The least we can do is go see her, hell she’s offering us plane tickets and everything. I just have to make sure I’ll be OK to fly.
Why, you ask?
Seven weeks along, approximately. Yep. Broke AF. Depressed. Anxious. I had JUST got some meds that were helping and I was starting to feel what I had been missing in life… then I got those little pink lines and happiness was ripped right back out of my grasp just like that. I can’t help it, I’m not excited. I’m terrified. I just burst into tears every day at random, not from seeing a cute puppy or a heart-wrenching tv commercial like last pregnancy… but for really sad reasons. Like my one and only baby won’t be the only anymore. Like I’m going to go through labor all over again. Like wife will likely be on estrogen by my second trimester and we’re going to be at each other’s throats. Like I’m going to have to go through labor all over again. Like I never wanted 2 under 2. I wanted the first to be 3 first. I’m so conflicted.
My nausea is intense. It lasts about 5-6 hours out of my day, a few in the morning and a few in the evening. If I don’t eat before bed, its worse. You know when you’re sick, and you’ve got that feeling that you need to vomit but the vomit never comes, and you keep thinking to yourself, “I should just force it, I’ll feel better…” but you don’t because that’s gross (or maybe you do, I don’t know you). It’s that feeling… like most of the day.
I want so badly to be excited. To be happy about this baby. I feel it will be quite a while before I find some way to bond with it… and that in itself breaks my heart.
Now we navigate the treacherous waters of wife transitioning, we wait on pins and needles for my first ultrasound, we presumably go to Florida, we raise our toddler, we survive. We survive and hold each other at night. We survive and cry and apologize and blame ourselves and toss and turn and argue and find a night to go on a date. We eat ice cream and watch youtube and blast music as loud as possible to drown out those anxious thoughts. We do whatever we can.