Being 30 is weird. I finally feel like an adult and that scares me. The last few months have shown me a whole new lease on my life. I have had an ever-increasing desire to have a child which, in turn, has caused all sorts of issues. Am I ready to be a parent? Probably not, but my biological clock has ticked into overdrive.
The baby car has started and it won’t take rest breaks. I have discovered a new side to my gender dysphoria and depression that I had never really experienced. Not being able to physically have a baby has caused a lot of sleepless nights in my household. Lots of nights being held by my lovely wife. I had always believed that I was not going to have that dysphoria since I had never really had it before, but I proved myself wrong on that one. Seeing people pregnant or talk about being pregnant has made my life hell sometimes. Being told that maybe science someday will catch up to allow me to birth a child does not help me either. There is something that maybe I am romanticizing about being able to birth a child that has caused me so much stress.
The hormones that have made me so happy and made me into the person I am supposed to be have rendered me infertile. I always thought that I would be able to save my swimmers through cryofreezing. That proved inaccessible to a lower income person like myself. The place that was transfriendly in Seattle charged upwards of $800 to even test to see if you can save them. Needless to say, I struggled with the thought of not being able to have biological children. My wife and I have talked about adopting and usually I am OK with that idea. I know how many countless children need a loving household. This week reading about the “rehoming” of children has reinforced my belief in that.
I am an only child and the imperative for me to have grandchildren has always been very strong from my parents. By have them, I mean have biological children. I am sure my parents will come to love their adoptive grandchildren. But my mom has made lots of comments asking me about grandchildren. She asked me if Carolina and I want to have them. When she visits my cousins and their children, she makes comments to me about how nice it is they have children. She talks about how much the kids are accomplishing or how funny they are. It comes out to me as, “Why aren’t you having children yet?” At the same time, she also likes to point out how we aren’t financially viable to have children. She is definitely headed for grandmother of the year.
In my depressed fugue state, I have gone to a few different groups and message boards for people struggling with fertility issues. That was definitely a mistake. I tended to only find closed-minded evangelical types. I never posted because I never felt welcome even reading other people’s struggles. I wanted to give all the women hugs. I felt for them, but I also felt like an outsider. Being an outsider is a feeling you get used to being trans, but reading people’s struggles definitely exacerbated my dysphoria. I have yet to really find an LGBT inclusive fertility issue website. Maybe I am just sucking it up on Google.
Its a struggle to even talk about my dysphoria in this area because it has hit so close to home for me. However, I am starting to cope and recover. My life has been mostly awesome overall. I guess that’s what happens when you have a loving wife to help you through your issues. She will be a wonderful mom and I know that I will be a wonderful parent. My clock ticks on, but I am slowly learning to accept that.