Childless and trans by guest blogger Jameson H
Like many, I had always known I wanted a child and didn’t foresee becoming childless not by choice.
I had already faced enough personal challenges for a lifetime, I had thought, such as coming out as gay at 19 and then transgender at 29. Gay families weren’t seen when I was growing up, let alone queer families, but as time went on they started to become more visible and eventually even welcomed. Just think, all those years I thought I’d be childless because of societal objection and lack of access were over and I could see through my dream of becoming a parent! Other queer people were doing it, including other trans men - some even through becoming pregnant themselves.
Never in a million years did I want to become pregnant, so adoption was the first step. After learning the details of how it worked for queer applicants and that there was an 8-year wait in some cases, it became clear that adoption would not an option. With gender roles aside and caring less about others’ opinions as I entered my mid 30s, I surprised myself by thinking “Heck with it - I’ll use my own body if I can find a sperm donor.” I was already three years into my physical transition, so this was very much a decision also involving doctors and their collaborative care.
Long story short, three years later I came to what’s been dubbed ‘the full stop.’ I couldn’t continue on between the drawn out wait times due to the pandemic, the exorbitant cost (key treatment prices ballooned by almost 500% within a year and a half and my workplace didn’t offer fertility-related health insurance), and - the final straw - the painful procedures and aftermath coinciding with a separate health issue. The mental health challenge of dysphoria during this time was also a factor, though I felt I could tough it out. It was for a child, after all. The overall experience had been quite isolating. It was rare in the LGBTQ+ community to find another trans man going through this process and I was often told by doctors or medical staff that I was unique to their care. If there was a silver lining to it all, it was the vast change in positive attitude and acceptance I received versus when I first started my transition. I initially braced myself for prejudice at every turn but instead found support and enthusiasm throughout both public and private medical systems.
The finality of stopping left me feeling doubly stung: the first sting from getting my hopes up that I could have a child despite being trans and the second sting from becoming childless altogether. My mental health plummeted as a result. I’m still working with a counselling therapist on grieving this loss, finding meaning and focusing on the present. I’ve come a long way in a year.
While I believe I’ll always carry this grief in my heart, like any other, I’m learning to grow with it. I now see a future where I can add value, where I am just as worthy as anyone else, and am pursuing goals that will create meaning in my life.
Thanks so much to Jameson who reached out to me after hearing an episode of The Full Stop podcast: https://www.thefullstoppod.com/listen/episode-19-lgbtqi-and-childlessness-u
If this blog has touched you in any way, please do share and if I can help you at all with processing your own feelings about any aspect of being childless, please do contact me at merielwhale@protonmail.com .