![]() Within months, we were pregnant and remarried as husband and wife. We registered with a spermbank and shopped on-line for suitable sperm donors. ![]() Courtesy of the authorĭuring this same time period, we decided we would go ahead with our long-term plan of having children. ![]() The author, 9 months pregnant, and her husband, 11 months into his transition. There were the eye rolls and deep sighs of exasperation, and then there were more overt refusals to help with an already complicated legal process. What does it mean? Are you straight now? Will he grow a beard? Does he have a penis? Will he go bald? Telling the rest of the world (confused business partners, exhausted DMV employees, the absolutely unhelpful county office worker) was excruciating. The response from friends and family followed a pattern: short-lived silence and then an avalanche of questions. We did endless local, state, and federal paperwork. My husband-as I began to think of him-started hormone treatments. I loved this human being and to me, that was all that mattered. I saw a wonderful, kind, generous being, and love simply poured over me. All of the persistent, nagging logistical questions left me momentarily. I watched how his body moved as he positioned himself to skip stones across the still water. One day, several weeks later, while he wasn't aware, I watched my spouse as he walked along the beach just outside our window. And in her place stood this human being, desperately trying to live an authentic life.Īfter that, there seemed to be only one thing to decide: Do I stay or do I go? My partner would transition. I had been fighting to keep my wife, but she was already gone. All talk of having kids ceased.īut one quiet morning while I was home alone, something became clear. When one of us brought it up, we would realize we were as polarized as ever. Meanwhile, she assumed I was adjusting to the idea. During this time, I assumed she was changing her mind. We would go weeks without addressing the issue. Months passed, slowly and excruciatingly. Shame, vulnerability, and fear of judgment came rushing back to me-denial too. Instead, I felt like karma was punching me in the face. I had believed that if I lived an honest life and was an overall good person, karma would pat me on the back. I'm a lesbian, I told myself, I can't be with a man. I felt fooled, tricked-the butt of a cruel joke. She just came out and said it, "I'm transgender and I need to figure out what that means for me and for us." She ordered one small taco rather then her usual, brick-sized burrito and slammed her water back as though she wished it was whiskey. The skin around her fingernails was picked raw. Looking back, I should have known that she was on the brink of telling me something big. Our waitress scratched our orders onto a pad of paper and set off for the kitchen. The chips and salsa had been delivered to our table. The author and her partner on their wedding day Courtesy of the author
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