Ready for a new year

Things have been rough here, really rough.  Our good patch of behavior came to an abrupt end the week of Christmas. We awoke Christmas morning to a wrecked house. Phoenix was out of control and becoming more defiant and destructive each day.  Then yesterday we hit what I can only hope was rock bottom, when talk of wanting to die turned into an actual attempt.

Phoenix was admitted to an inpatient psychiatric facility yesterday.  Sadly I feared we'd have to get to this point before getting real help and I truly hope that's what comes from this.

We went and visited with him this morning and it didn't go well. He didn't want us there, said he never wanted to come home and described the manner in which he wished we would die. We left feeling quite defeated. Corey went back for an evening visit and family group though and Phoenix was in a much better mood.  They called me and I got to talk to him as well.

We meet with his care team on Thursday to find out what his treatment plan will be.  I'm ready for the new year.  Here's to hoping this next year will be better than the last. 

Not just a tomboy

He's not just a tomboy. I've had lots of people say they know someone who went through a tomboy phase too, it annoys me. I was a tomboy, I know about that. I cut my hair short and picked boy clothes. People couldn't tell my gender.  I wished I was a boy.

Wishing you were something and believing you are something are completely different.  I never thought I was born in the wrong body. I never wondered when I'd get my penis or pictured myself growing up to be a daddy.

Yes there's always a chance that Phoenix could "outgrow" this, but even if that happens I still wouldn't be able to consider this a case of just being a tomboy.  This is much more severe than that and comparing the two invalidates how he feels.

Please don't tell me my child is just a tomboy.

Depression

They say a mother is only as happy as her least happy child.  Oh how true that is.  The hardest thing over the past year has been seeing Phoenix depressed.  4-year-olds should not have to deal with depression.



As we approach the holidays I'm reminded of last year, he was so sad then, almost all the time.  Things have definitely improved, we have more good days than bad now.  Yesterday was a great day, today was not.

Even the "Phoebe" in drawings was sad back then. That's Phoebe on the left and my sister on the right.



Someone told me last week that there's never an excuse to medicate a young child, that a 5-year-old has no reason to be depressed, and that she didn't see how anything could not be fixed with support.  Yeah, if love and support could magically fix things we'd all be fine, sadly that's not the case.  And if I have to choose between a medicated 5-year-old and a suicidal 5-year-old I'll choose the medicated one.  I know I'll have to deal with these encounters with uneducated people forever, not looking forward to that.

Videos

I love watching old videos of the kids.  I find if I watch one I get sucked in and end up watching video after video for an hour.  The other day Corey and I were doing just that and Phoenix walked in and said "I don't want you to watch that, that's Phoebe.  I only want you to watch Phoenix."  My heart sank, I kind of expected this moment to come but it still hurt.  The day he wants Phoebe pictures taken off of the walls I don't know what I'll do.

So anyway I sat down and made an all Phoenix video/slideshow.  And used his current favorite song.  He highly approves of it.



And because I'll always miss my 3 year old Beebs here's the old "Phoebe" one.  I could watch it million times.

Gender Variance

I wish I could live in a gender neutral world, where there weren't "girl" things and "boy" things and instead just things.  A world where Barbie dolls sat on the shelf next to monster trucks.  Our world is far from that.  Babies are instantly placed into a category, boy or girl.  Everything from strollers to car seats are gender specific.  Past the newborn stage little exists that's truly neutral.  Even those are hard to find as most people find out the gender ahead of time, placing standards on children before they're even born.

When a child doesn't fit into the mold society has created they're labeled as different.  Which brings us to gender variance, behavior that goes against what is considered normal.  It's not simply a matter of being transgender or not, it's a broad spectrum that you can fall anywhere on.  And most gender-variant people aren't transgender.

The book I'm currently reading (The Transgender Child: A Handbook for Families and Professionals, by Stephanie Brill and Rachel Pepper) explains how there's three parts that make up who we are; our gender identity (who we feel we are), how we express ourselves, and our sexual orientation.  And they are all separate from one another.  Just because a person is transgender doesn't mean they are gay, and just because a boy puts on a dress doesn't mean he's transgender.

This is easy for me to understand as I've never fully conformed to the female gender role myself.  I certainly don't like pink frilly things, or floral prints.  Wearing a dress makes me feel like you do in those dreams where you're naked in public.  It's incredibly awkward.  I can't sit in a room full of women and feel comfortable because I just don't relate to many of the things they like. Emotionally however, I am very much a girl.

John, my oldest boy, has also always varied a bit from the norm.  He likes to wear nail polish and has earrings.  He takes Bella's pink hand-me-down pajamas and wears them proudly (even asking for some of his own) and will often put on her pink helmet and ride her princess bike. 

He likes to wear little hair bands in his hair and has since he was little.



Every winter he grows his hair out and says he wants it long with a ponytail.  Then summer hits and he asks for a buzz cut.

His holiday wish list always includes a doll or dollhouse.



When he was four he found one of his sister's dresses and claimed it as his own.  He loved that dress and wanted to wear it often.  I let him wear it out in public, to a restaurant and Target.  He likes to go shopping and cares about looking nice.  Once he tried to talk me into buying him a purse, only problem was he couldn't decide which color looked best on him.

He's sensitive and more empathetic than I knew a little boy could be.  He also loves cars and trucks and mud.  He's comfortable with who he is and I love that about him.  I'd be devastated if anyone tried to make him think the way he is isn't okay.

I think the reason it took so long for us to realize what was going on with Phoenix is because we don't push gender roles with our kids and never have.  If we had tried to push him into pink dresses I have a feeling there would have been much more resistance.  I may not be able to change how the world treats gender but at least I've created a home where my kids feel safe expressing themselves for who they feel they are.

Happy

The change we've seen since making the switch in names and pronouns has been nothing short of amazing. Phoenix has blossomed into a whole new kid, a much happier kid. The depression, anxiety, defiance and moodiness have all decreased significantly. And best of all he's happy.

It was really hard at first to stop saying Phoebe.  Switching pronouns was much harder. We tried to simply stop using pronouns and let me tell you it's hard. I've learned that gender is a huge part of our lives. It's gotten easier and I've found that I now see him as a boy, something I really didn't expect to feel so soon.

We're headed down a path where we aren't really sure where we're going. The future is filled with unknowns.  Pretty much everything about the future scares the shit out of me, but when I look at that smile I know we're headed in the right direction.  The other way simply was not working.

Siblings

A lot of people have asked how the other kids are handling all of this. Hazel is obviously too young to understand and so doesn't really care. Bella and John however, at ages 8 and 9, have certainly been impacted.

I'm currently reading a book on transgender children and it talks about how the grief siblings feel can actually be stronger than the parents. The sense of loss has been very real to them. Bella told me she feels like she lost her sister.  John feels that he's lost what makes him special by no longer being the only boy.

Over the past year and a half most of our energy and time has been focused on Phoenix, which unfortunately has meant that the others have been put on the back burner at times. Luckily John and Bella have an exceptionally close relationship so they've had each other. We're working to make sure we keep the lines of communication open with them both and acknowledge how hard this is on them.

John like me is having a hard time losing the name Phoebe. We started a reward chart where he earns stickers for remembering to say Phoenix and use male pronouns. He was hesitant at first to make the switch as he didn't believe this was a real thing, he saw it much the same way he sees Hazel pretending to be a horse. Once we explained to the kids that Phoenix's feelings were very real they were more understanding.

They are both very sensitive children and I worry greatly about how this will effect them in the future. My hope though is that in the end this will teach them that our love for them is truly unconditional and they will always have our support, no matter where life takes them.

Grief

I miss her




I'd heard it many times in the past, parents with children that transition to the opposite gender saying that they feel like their child has died.  It's so true. Not that what I feel compares in any way to what it must feel like to actually lose a child but the Phoebe I knew is gone. When I look into Phoenix's eyes I no longer see Phoebe. When I look at old pictures of Phoebe I don't see Phoenix.

I've been surprised by just how much I miss her. The Phoebe I knew and loved went away a long time ago so it's not like I lost her suddenly. The transition has simply confirmed that fact that the old her isn't coming back. Over the past 18 months as we fought so hard for answers and solutions I held out hope that we would some how get our old Phoebe back. I now know that's not going to happen.

Phoebe was our easy kid, our happy baby.  My other kids all had colic and screamed for the first year of their lives.  They were miserable and difficult. Phoebe however was always smiling and happy. As a toddler she was the silliest thing ever. Part of the sense of loss is just letting go of that idealism. Things don't go as planned, there is no perfect.  It's a hard thing to let go sometimes.

Don't get me wrong there are a million things I love about Phoenix.  He's wonderful and smart and hilarious, but I will always miss Phoebe.

The signs

I'm finding the phrase hindsight is 20/20 to be very appropriate here. Phoenix never really gravitated toward girly things, honestly his older brother is probably more girly than him. Favorite tv characters started off neutral (Elmo and Barney) and then moved on to Thomas the Train, Chuck and Friends and our current obsession is Jake and the Neverland Pirates.

Then there's the haircut. He asked for short hair for months after turning 4. I was hesitant but not against it. I wanted to make sure it was something truly wanted and not just on a whim. Finally last December he got tired of waiting and cut his hair. This wasn't the typical kid experimenting with cutting their hair (I remember doing that as a kid) he was purposely trying to look like a boy. We went with a pixie cut and while pleased with the shorter hair he voiced immediately that it wasn't short enough and wanted a buzz cut. We kept the pixie cut trimmed regularly and finally allowed the buzz cut when we realized what was going on this past month.  He's always wanted people in public to think he was a boy.

He never wanted to be called beautiful. When we'd say "you're so beautiful" he got really upset. I thought it was just negativity and not wanting to agree with anything I said. When I finally connected beautiful to being a girl thing I tried calling him handsome and he lit up with excitement.

One of the earliest signs was underwear. When we potty trained I had bought a pack of pink panties but then as a reward for actually using the toilet we went to the store and let him pick out his own. He picked a pack of toy story boys briefs. I allowed it because I just wanted to ditch diapers and if boy underwear was what it took whatever. So for years his drawer had girl and boy underwear in it and he always picked the boy. When my older son switched over to boxers Phoenix claimed all his old boxer briefs and has worn them since. The panties have since all been put away.

Swimsuits were something that changed this last summer. The desire to wear boys swim shorts was voiced when Phoenix found John's old pair. I started with allowing him to wear it at home in the yard with a swim shirt, then eventually let him go without the shirt. Then I allowed it to be worn to the pool at the rec center where nobody knew us and would simply assume he was a boy. I finally allowed it to be worn to swimming lessons where they knew "Phoebe" as a girl and I knew there would be questions. And all this time I still didn't think we had gender issues, silly me.

The name Phoenix was picked out probably a good six months ago. Upon realizing that Phoebe was a girl name he wanted it changed. Months were spent trying to get us to change. Then he started crossing Phoebe out where it was written and writing Phoenix instead. I have to admit that losing the name is one of the hardest parts for me, I LOVE the name Phoebe and to not use it anymore makes me sad.

Phoenix

I'm not really sure where to start but I'm finally making myself sit down and write this post.  I slowed down and eventually stopped blogging because I liked to keep the blog filled with the fun parts of our lives, but our life stopped being fun and I couldn't fake the good stuff anymore.  It became easier to simply post a happy looking picture on Facebook, and even that usually didn't have a caption.

Around the time Phoebe turned 4 we noticed a sudden massive change in her.  She went from being the happiest, easiest child to a very defiant, depressed, difficult child.

This


became this


She sank into a depression where she didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning.  She couldn't get along with her siblings for even 5 minutes without it turning into her screaming at them.  We were "those" people at the store with the screaming child.  We eventually stopped going places.

We went to our pediatrician and got a referral to a psychologist.  It got us nowhere so we got a new pediatrician and two more referrals.  We went to both and got the same results at each place, a diagnosis of depression and anxiety and a recommendation to begin therapy.  So we began therapy and things got a little better over this past summer, for a short while.  Then we slid back to where things were worse than when we started.

Sad and depressed behavior turned into more disturbing things.  Purposely getting lost in public, trying to run away from home, stealing, lying and then aggression and violence towards our pets and her younger sister as well as a complete inability to feel empathy.  Finally she talked about wanting to die.  Our family simply stopped functioning at that point.  Her therapist referred us to another therapist for additional therapy.

We added the diagnosis of ADHD as well and put her on Prozac and Ritalin, both of which helped but were far from fixing the problem.

During the past year and a half several people (including her therapist) have asked me if I felt Phoebe might have gender issues, to which I said "no, I really don't."  And I didn't.  Not out of denial because I always said it wouldn't bother me if my kids were transgender, I had looked and simply didn't think that was the issue.  Until a few weeks ago.

I looked back and the signs were there all along.  But it wasn't until she started asking for a penis that it really set in that this might be the underlying cause of the anxiety and depression.  So I talked to Corey and we sat down with her and asked how she felt.  To say the conversation left me in shock would be an understatement, I simply couldn't believe that we hadn't seen the signs earlier.  She told us that she felt she was a boy and that she had just been born wrong.  We let her know that we loved her no matter what and if being a boy was what felt right we were okay with that.  And that's the moment "Phoebe" ceased to exist.  From that moment "she" identified openly as a boy full time.  Like it had always been there and was simply waiting for us to say it's okay to do this.

While I expressed full support I felt major hesitation.  Not on a moral level just on a parenting level.  Fear of doing the wrong thing and causing more damage than good.  One week later we sat in the therapists office and I listened as my 5 year old child told the therapist that when people call her a girl she wants to die.  I knew at that moment that anything less than complete acceptance was simply not an option.

And so my daughter Phoebe has become my son Phoenix.  A name he picked himself.  We've switched to calling him that and using male pronouns.  It's been difficult but things are getting better, I know we're headed in the right direction.

Being open and talking about how I feel has never been something I'm good at but I feel this is something that shouldn't be swept under the rug.  I want to be open and help others understand what we're going through and show Phoenix that we love and support him, always.