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.