I made some calls to find out what happens next, and arranged a GP appointment to organise a referral. It's going to be around 18/19 weeks before the first Tavistock session.
I explained to my daughter that there's nothing we can do to hurry it up, and she's ok with the waiting time. We've found a name we both like (the first couple she threw out there were just too much for me) and it fits her well.
I just about survived the first of what I have no doubt will be many wallet emptying trips. She's still presenting male to the outside world, so I thought it might be a good idea to make sure she's got her own girl space at home where she can really be herself. It's not easy to keep a straight face when an 11 yr old is going on (in a very earnest voice) about the importance of accessorising.
I'm not perfect by any stretch and I've had some very down moments. My son wanted me to take him to a specific place but I never got round to it, now he's gone and I will never get that opportunity back. The guilt and regret is overwhelming, at times it has felt unbearable.
This is the first time I have cried since my wife died, my son has gone and I didn't even get the chance to say good-bye. I miss him like I can't describe and I'm mourning him. He was epic, and now he's gone.
My daughter caught me crying, and she thought she had upset me. I explained that it wasn't her I was upset with, it was the regret and guilt, and knowing I'm never going to see my son again. I told her how much I regret that missed trip,and I asked her to tell my son how truly sorry I am about it, and how sorry I am for all the times I screwed up, if she ever got to speak to him. She says he's fine with it and that he couldn't have had a better dad.
I've been listening to Songbird (the Eva Cassidy version) a lot, and it just about sums it all up.
My son really has gone, there is a young lady there instead. She even looks different, holds herself differently, laughs differently, a whole myriad of differences. She smells different, too. One very funny moment happened when she was choosing her new deodorant. She already decided on the spray, and then looked for the matching roll on (accessorising: it's important) and the joy and wonderment on her face when she saw that girl stuff comes in glass creased me up.
I need to get to know her properly (I did actually introduce myself to her as her dad) and find out what makes her tick. I've asked her how she's feeling now, and she said it's as though a huge weight has been lifted from her shoulders and that her skin isn't a prison any more.
As her dad, that weight has now transferred from her shoulders to mine.
