May. 22nd, 2007


May. 22nd, 2007 04:39 pm
dumblemop: (love)
I've tried to form this tidbit into a cohesive sentence a couple times now, and I can't find the exact proper way to put it. So bear with me.

Last night, I think the concept of having kids really hit home for the first time.

Up until about last year, I never wanted them. Before the trans thing came on the scene, I didn't really see myself as a parent. No adolescent girl maternity dreams. When I played House, I was the dog. Then I realized I was trans and and was SO not about the whole birth thing--which wouldn't rule out adoption, as I don't place an emphasis on "having your own kid" over adopting (an adopted child IS your kid--if they're not, why are you a parent?), but still just...didn't want kids.

When I was trying to work out what kind of a transition I wanted, not wanting kids was a factor. I would usually come to the conclusion that I wanted to go up to but not including genital surgery--i.e., hormones, chest surgery, and hysterectomy. Ian would caution me, "Sure you don't want kids now but what if your biological clock turns on?" and "What if you have kids? You wouldn't be able to breastfeed them." My response to that was that if I was making concerted efforts to quell the effects of female hormones on my system, it would be unlikely that an urge to bear children would strike me. If I really did end up wanting kids, I would adopt. Why would I let a supposed biological imperative trump the needs of kids without a home?

But it wasn't a real thing. It was very definitely an if, and a tiered one at that. If I transitioned, and then if I really really wanted kids, I could adopt.

Something Liz said after we broke up: "Besides, can you really see yourself raising a kid with me and Kaitlyn?" And I acknowledged the probable truth of this.

I spent last summer at camp for several reasons. I loved camp as a child and was forcibly distanced from it in high school. I needed a job. I was thinking I might want to teach, and wanted to see whether I could handle even being a counselor. I ended up loving being a counselor, and I think I was a pretty good one. But there is a huge difference between taking care of a child for a week and being its parent. And the Brownie camps (the youngest girls we had) were always my last choice and I had my best weeks working with the CIT/WITs (the oldest girls we had).

Last night, as my plane flew over some unknown Milwaukee suburb, the thought came into my head, "I want a house. I want my kids to be able to play outside. I want a dog. I want woods. ...wait, back up--what?"

I wonder where it came from.


dumblemop: (Default)

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