Tag Archives: real life

The Hormonal House

As you may imagine, our house is often the place to find hormonal outbursts. The four bigs are all of an age where you can very easily say the wrong thing and find yourself on the receiving end of a mouthful of upset. It isn’t fun and it isn’t pretty. With hindsight, it was The Boy’s extreme reaction to teenage hormones that was the precursor to his looking for answers and working out that he was trapped in the wrong body. 

We went through a hellish two years when periods arrived that I’m very glad not to have gone through again just yet. We spoke to a GP who claimed that it would take a few years to settle down and she wasn’t prepared to offer anything to help until then. We were a year in and stuck in a 3 weeks on/ 5 days off cycle. Blood tests confirmed anemia and we added iron tablets to the multivitamin morning regime. I should point out that this mirrored my own journey through the menstrual maze; the cramps, the heavy flow, the feeling that I was always restricted by the blood. At first, we felt that this contributed to the negative cycle he seemed to be caught in, and in many ways it did, just not in the way we thought. The joke many women scoff at about men coping (or rather not) with periods and giving birth seemed to be the case. My child confided in me that he was a boy and suddenly the extreme reaction to starting a period *again* made sense. Periods – the thing that only little girls have to get used to and my son had to cope more often than most. The hormonal outrage that we had been struggling with was a constant reminder for him that he was being punished by his female shell and my little teen was lost in the emotions of it all.

One of the first things we discussed at Tavistock was the need to control periods. He was desperately trying to embrace his male self when he was woken in the night by cramps and the need for a bath. Amazingly, they offered an easy solution straight away. I had explained to him that I wasn’t aware of a pill that stopped the period completely and we were both a bit frustrated. The psychologist explained that they often use Nerothisterone, a progesterone only tablet commonly used by many to delay a period for a few days but that, when taken delay, can delay menstruation for a considerable time. This tiny little pill was a game changer. He started taking it a few days later and has been relatively happy with it ever since. Every few months he has to stop taking it and have a breakthrough bleed. This week isn’t very pretty. 

So, moving forward. We have finally had the recommendation to be moved on to blockers and his relief is palpable. He will spend the next 6 months to a year exploring life with all his birth hormones blocked, a journey to hopefully get him closer to testosterone – what he’s wanted all along. By this time next year he will be well on his way to the Adult Team where the truly complicated stuff happens.

In preparation for the next year we have been advised to talk to a fertility specialist to talk about long term options. Unfortunately, we don’t have much information about the risks of long term testosterone use on ferility. Although we have had transgender persons for quite some time now, the use of testosterone in young men who are still considering the changing path of transition and their ability to have, or not, there own biological children is still a very new concept and mostly unknown. Lets be honest about this, the ferilisation of an egg for someone for has never taken T is a miracle in itself so we can only give a best guess for what the chances are. That sounds a bit doom and gloom so let me pair it with the following.

There have been quite a few stories of transgender families having biological children this past year. UK ftm Dad had his daughter earlier this year and this lovely couple shared their joy at their son’s birth just this month. These are very encouraging stories and will give many trans teens hope for the future. Whether or not it gives hope to my Boy, I’m not sure. So many conversations over the past three years; adoption, fertility clinics, turkey basters, online sperm donations, helping family or having family help out…. I can’t imagine him making a firm decision within a year and yet he has made decisions this past year which I couldn’t believe possible from my baby, but I guess he’s not my baby anymore, not whilst we move through these hoops and jumps on his path to transitioning into a grown man.

He is far braver and far wiser than I could ever be. His level head, the way he considers others whilst making decisions (mostly), his flourishing independance and even knowing when he still needs his mum. I’m so proud of him and right now, with the three biggest all arguing in front of me, I say that with ease. 

We still have the hormonal rages from the Bigs. Not really emjoying this part of the parenting rollercoaster but in for a penny, in for a pound 😉

Honest Blogging

Today, I don’t feel like I measure up. One after another after another I have in someway hurt and upset my children and I find myself wondering, at 11.13 on a school night, how do I fix this? 

I am not the kind of mother I thought I was going to be, indeed, I am not the sort I once was in any shape or form. 

In the beginning I was caught up in my situation. We had planned the making a baby part but hadn’t considered the affording part as well as we might have. Two young adults, studying at college, both realising what we wanted and how staying at school wasn’t going to achieve it. It is, therefore, fairly accurate to suggest thatg we jumped into things with both feet whilst wearing blindfolds. 

I am not a lover of pink and I moved any pink outfirs to the back of the wardrobe when our first born arrived. We let them choose their own path and we encouraged building blocks, train tracks, dolls & prams, fairy wings, and all things Winnie the Pooh – a childhood love I was glad to share! I was never anti “girl” toy, I just really don’t love the colour pink and on little chunky babies it can have a hint of marshmallow about it (sorry not sorry).

By the time we got to our Little Dude we had a great set up which included Barbie having a tea party with Action Man as well as I fantastic train set that wound around the Grandparents ground floor visiting the teddybears picnic and Megabloks mountain before stopping at the Fairy Pirate Ship! Our aim as parents was to show each of our children that they weren’t restrained by what was expected by society and they showed us that they would each take and leave what they wanted from the choices available to them. I think we ended up with a healthy bunch of well rounded individuals who are liked and respected by those who count and mostly by those who can help them to achieve and succeed. 

The downside to our regime is that our children also have healthy debating abilities, a knowing sense of how to use their argument, and unfortunately, the acting skills to throw a tantrum with great ferocity and ear-splitting volume. They learnt the skills in toddlerhood but perfected them with their early teenage showdowns. 

It has meant a fair amount of biting of tounges and the occassional parental blowout of frustration. This fabulous Summer heatwave has made our wonderfully full household very tetchy and irritable, more mistakes than normal are being made, and butting of heads, egos, and emotions has been a major downside. 

We have had Sports Day x2, Theatre Performances, Proms, Duke of Edinburgh trials, Year 6 Journey, Pride, Award Ceremonies, New School Meetings, Tavistock groups, GP appointments, and my FMS/CFS consultants appointment which falls on Leavers Assembly/Leavers Disco Day. As a parent my life is extremly hectic and my feet are hurting and my body is aching, and my mind is melting. 

I don’t know how I am going to keep on top of everything that needs to be done and I’m snapping like a crocodile. Everytime I turn around someone is asking me for the impossible or shoving another form in front of my nose and more money is being asked for. I’m stretched to breaking point and so is our budget and, as most adults know, when the pounds are no longer stretching every single penny needs to be counted and preferably not by somebody else’s bank account.

We’ll make it work, we always do. My mental strength is recovering after my mindless spending on rucksacks, prom shoes, and kitchen utensils since loosing Vic. My physical health being so low helped to make the slip easier and hopefully my new ‘specialist’ should aid some recovery, with luck anyway. 

I just want to be able to be an active mother, to be able to keep a standard of tidyness so that I’m not tripping on teddies and hairclips, to be able to get back to cooking and baking, to spend quality time listening to them instead of wincing in pain whilst waiting for meds to kick in. I want to be a “normal” mum (if there is such a thing) and not the one with the funny walking and grimacing expression. 

And tea. I’d like to do it all whilst drinking a cup of tea that is just too hot to be around small people with vie like grips.

Failing all that, is it bedtime yet?!