You’re what? How? Wait, what did you say? How? But he’s not got…
No congratulations, no how you feeling, just questions, awkward mind your own business questions that should never be asked.
That is how those who knew my now ex spouse (a trans man) and I were expecting our first child together back in 2012.
It was like many conception stories one which was a journey, 2 years at the fertility clinic, where yet more ignorant questions were asked, where tests were carried out, bloods drawn, counselling given, my BMI was shamed, his lack of penis and sperm analysed and my disability status interrogated. This surely should not be so exhausting, so degrading, so frustrating before we even begin attempting to conceive?
Fast forward and I made my mind up to leave the marriage as raising a prospective child in a home with domestic violence was not a choice it was a decision.
I was now 6 months pregnant without the aid of said clinic, and how you wonder? My then secondary partner offered to provide sperm and home insemination occurred.
I, despite my higher than they wanted BMI, despite having PCOS, despite being disabled was pregnant with a healthy foetus growing inside me.
I should have been excited, I should have been happy, instead I was anxious, I was frightened, I was exhausted of being questioned.
Solo parenting was not the journey I had planned, but the route I was now taking.
Fast forward to now, and that small being is 8 and thriving, an infectiously kind personality, generous with her fascination and love of her world and her chosen family. She gained a brother last summer whom is her world.
I had my blood test today to measure my base hormone levels. I could restart testosterone right now if I wanted to.
And I know if I do, my body will change. Again. And I’m kind of exhausted with having to learn a new body all over again. New hair, new smell, new texture, new shape. I’m only just getting used to not being pregnant, am I ready to change again?
Even after all I’ve been through, I am still assumed to be a cis man by strangers (which is honestly wild considering what my body has just done) and I’m wondering if I really want to smell like one again. I’m not kidding. You know that teenage boy smell? I’d be signing up for that. Not to mention the back hair and the way that my arm hair joins up all the way round when I’m on T (I don’t know why, but I really don’t like that!)
But I also know that not taking testosterone is still signing up for change. Without testosterone I’m facing the peaks and troughs of oestrogen and progesterone. A monthly merry-go-round that has never done me well. Between physical agony and life disrupting PMS (that’s an understatement honestly, check out PMDD for more info) I’ve always had a rough ride of them.
When I first started testosterone I suddenly had an opportunity to learn who I was without the constant psychological flux from my PMS cycle. I finally found some balance in myself. But I now know what that balance feels like so even when I am affected by hormones I am much better equipped to manage it. (Or so I’m telling myself, if I don’t restart T then ask me again in a couple of months!)
My family now complete with a partner by my side who brings so much to not only me but our children, we laugh, we share, we grow, we cry, we survive.