Going to the cryobank today was strangely affirming. When I was a child, I never saw myself becoming a mother. I've always thought of myself as a father, or an ungendered parent.
Like many trans girls, I don't like touching my genitalia. So it was going to be a tough and dysphoric time. I had to dress really comfortable and feminine to balance it out.
When I was alone in the room, I looked down, and glimpsed at my black stockings and lace boyshorts. I felt vulnerable and small. I shivered a bit in my oversized black knit turtleneck, but my rose gold rings and bracelets reflected the harsh florescent lights and seemed to warm up the room.
I kneeled, closed my eyes, cradled myself and took in every emotion. Every sensation.
For the first time, I felt maternal. At that moment, I wanted a child in my arms so bad and I was willing to sacrifice and fight through dysphoria just to do it! I cried a little. Of joy? Or beautiful sadness? Or perhaps as a Pisces, a misguided sense of sacrifice?
For the first time, I felt like a future mother.
