Sunday, December 26

Emotional wrangling part 1 of many...

What I failed to mention during the testing really was all of the totally raw emotion and major life events happening before, during and after diagnosis. This is really where the rubber meets the road, so to speak.

Before diagnosis:

I remember fifth grade, they did the official sex talk. I was actually excited about getting my period. It sounded like a really cool thing because I would be all grown up, and do grown up things (like apply pads-don't ask, I was 10). After we watched an awful show called "Dear Diary" which had been shown for many years prior, we had lecture about what a period is and whatnot. At the end of the class, we got our own pad and I believe tampon. I remember going home and finding a "discrete" kid's purse to put it in.

I didn't get my period in the fifth grade, sixth grade, seventh grade....or even the twelfth grade...

Periodically in high school, mom would ask me if I was ready to go to the gynecologist about my period. I refused, multiple times.


Personally, I have always been a bit of an introvert, but in high school, I really tried to deny that part of myself and think of myself as an extrovert. I also was not cliquey, so my true friend base was small, but I was friends with everyone. This was hard in high school in a small town.

I got my first boyfriend at the age of 16, about 3 weeks after my first kiss, which was devastatingly later than I had planned in my head! His name for the sake of the blog is John.

John had graduated two years prior to me. I was just beginning my senior year in high school. He was my first mutual true love. He lived with his parents far out in the country and he loved me with all he had. He made me very happy, and he was so simple minded in comparison to me. I had my first sexual experiences with him. It was hard for me because I had so many things tossing around in my head. I think at that point I was really truely cognisant of the lack of period, and I knew something was odd with me. We spent many hours cuddling in his bed, but I never took my pants off. I couldn't do it. He was okay with that, though I knew he wanted more so badly.

We had been dating about 7 months by the spring of my senior year. My sister was engaged that April and was going to be graduating college and getting married in August.

At some point in here, I decided it was time for me to go to the gynecologist and find out what was up. My appointment was scheduled that same afternoon as my baccalaureate.

As we drove into town, I remember riding with my sister and crying because I was so nervous about someone looking at me "down there." To comfort me, my sister took me for my first manicure ever.

Upon the beginning of the appointment, to preserve my dignity and self confidence, I refused to let my mom into the examination part of the appointment, but allowed her to talk to the nurse about whatever she wanted. Mom was with me for the preliminary demographic questions. After that, I gave her the boot. I think she was a bit miffed, but she also understood.

During the exam, I was so nervous, that I bit my freshly painted nails. I have never since had another manicure.

I remember leaving the exam with labs that needed to be completed, and that's when I started what they call the progesterone challenge.

All of the emotions going through me combined with additional horomones from the testing, I was quite a pleasure that summmer. My family tension was high anyway with my sister's pending wedding. John was a comfort for me through it all. He stayed by my side through the testing and I appreciated that.

John's support wasn't going to last though...and that's where I will pick up next time...

The beginning: May 1998 continued

Ok...sorry about the delay in getting more of this out.

I'm sure you are very disappointed.

Back to the lovely gynecologist. So I left the visit totally crying and not fully understanding what was going on. I was a very private 16 year old girl. Crying was something I did not do in front of anyone other than family. I had to call my nurse practioner to figure out what was going on. She told me that my gynecology did not appear normal. My mom said my doctor was calling all over town to figure out what was going on. That made me feel much less like a freak, not.

I never went back to that doctor.

The nurse practioner gave me the name of this professor in Texas who knew about the condition, but the largest clinic in the metro area had no idea what do do with it. I didn't make that call to see anyone. At that point, I just tried to deal with the whole situation emotionally.

I think the most emotionally offensive test was the lab that made sure I was a girl. Seriously.

So by the time all of these tests concluded, as I mentioned, I was in college 200 miles away. I really knew myself well because I decided on my own to go get some counseling.

I spent over 3 years in counseling. It would continue really regularly for the first few months of college, and then I was weaned off it.

Amongst those great things I learned, were coping mechanisms to deal with these issues. My head did (and continues to) be a hinderance to full acceptance of this condition.

That's about all I have to say right now for the condition, diagnosis and whatnot. Now it's time for some of the emotional wrangling discussion. That's what I've been dealing with for 13 years now. I'll talk about how and when I made the vagina in a bit...but several years must pass first.

Monday, July 19

Diagnosis Part 2


So I left the visit totally crying and not fully understanding what was going on. I was a very private 16 year old girl. Crying was something I did not do in front of anyone other than family. I had to call my nurse practioner to figure out what was going on. She told me that my gynecology did not appear normal. My mom said my doctor was calling all over town to figure out what was going on. That made me feel much less like a freak, not.

I never went back to that doctor.

The nurse practioner gave me the name of this professor in Texas who knew about the condition, but the largest clinic in the metro area had no idea what do do with it or who to refer to. I didn't make that call to see anyone about treatment at that point. At that point, I just tried to deal with the whole situation emotionally.

I think the most emotionally offensive test was the lab that made sure I was a girl. Seriously.


All of the emotions going through me combined with additional horomones from the testing, I was quite a pleasure that summer. John was a comfort for me through it all. He stayed by my side through the testing and I appreciated that. 


So by the time all of these tests concluded, as I mentioned, I was in college 200 miles away.  I remember receiving the final test result in September when I was in the first month of college.

***********

Read my entire diagnosis story.  Note at the bottom of each post is a theme, and if you would like to read more about a particular theme (i.e. dilation treatment, depression, dating, etc) click on the word below.

Saturday, July 17

High School Graduation and Diagnosis


So how did I come to this point?

I remember fifth grade, they did the official sex talk. I was actually excited about getting my period. It sounded like a really cool thing because I would be all grown up, and do grown up things (like apply pads-don't ask, I was 10). After we watched an awful show called "Dear Diary" which had been shown for many years prior, we had lecture about what a period is and whatnot. At the end of the class, we got our own pad and I believe tampon. I remember going home and finding a "discrete" kid's purse to put it in.


I didn't get my period in the fifth grade, sixth grade, seventh grade....or even the twelfth grade...

Periodically in high school, mom would ask me if I was ready to go to the gynecologist about my period. I refused, multiple times.  I was a very private person and the invasion of a gynecologist was too much for me to handle.

Personally, I have always been a bit of an introvert, but in high school, I really tried to deny that part of myself and think of myself as an extrovert. I also was not cliquey, so my true friend base was small, but I was friends with everyone. This was hard in high school in a small town.

My first boyfriend was at the age of 16, about 3 weeks after my first kiss, which was devastatingly later than I had planned in my head! His name for the sake of the blog is John. I think deep down I already knew something was not quite right sexually with me. Because of the period thing and what I thought that could mean, and the guilt of religion, our relationship did not surpass a certain level.

John had graduated two years prior to me. I was just beginning my senior year in high school. He was my first mutual true love. He lived with his parents far out in the country and he loved me with all he had. He made me very happy, and he was so simple minded in comparison to me. I had my first sexual experiences with him. It was hard for me because I had so many things tossing around in my head. I think at that point I was really truely cognisant of the lack of period, and I knew something was odd with me. We spent many hours cuddling in his bed, but I never took my pants off. I couldn't do it. He was okay with that, though I knew he wanted more so badly.

We had been dating about 7 months by the spring of my senior year. My sister was engaged that April and was going to be graduating college and getting married in August.

At some point that spring, I decided it was time for me to go to the gynecologist and find out what was up.  I insisted on only going to a female gynecologist. My appointment was scheduled that same afternoon as my baccalaureate.

As we drove into town, I remember riding with my sister and crying because I was so nervous about someone looking at me "down there." To comfort me, my sister took me for my first manicure ever.

Upon the beginning of the appointment, to preserve my dignity and self confidence, I refused to let my mom into the examination part of the appointment, but allowed her to talk to the nurse about whatever she wanted. My mom came in to the initial appointment piece for data gathering only. I was very shy and private about my private areas, so I sent her out of the room. She used to say that she hadn’t seen me naked since I was ten. Why should she?


During the exam, I was so nervous, that I bit my freshly painted nails. I have never since had another manicure.  I was wearing this delicate yellow baby tee with delicate feminine detail, which was something I didn’t do too often. I survived the exam, and the nurse practitioner said I was normal in most ways, but she tried to put her pinky up my “vagina” and it didn’t fit. That was a problem, but we didn’t know at the time what the problem really was.  I was sent over to the lab for multiple tests and also put on what they called the progesterone challenge.  The progesterone challenge is a week long stint on progesterone pills and after that, it was anticipated that I would get my period.

That night I went off to my baccalaureate. Leaving the school and people that I had known all my life was emotional, but by that point in time, I had no more tears left to cry. I had cried out all of my emotions. I was dry. Unemotional.

I graduated a day later, and the summer had begun.

Within a week of my trip to the gynecologist, I learned that I failed the challenge.
That led to a lovely month on birth control.  The month on birth control was one of the worst.  I was super depressed and the additional hormones from that (as well as my sister's wedding talk) took me over the top.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  Needless to say, the month on birth control resulted in no period.

That led to an ultrasound. I had prepared for the ultrasound by drinking copious amounts of water.   I learned that its really hard to drink a gallon of milk and not pee.  The purpose of the water was to distend the bladder so that they could see my reproductive system. I distinctly remember the dimly lit room and the vaginal probe they tried to put into my “vagina.” The probe was about the size of a penis (obviously not shaped that way!).  I remember looking at it and thinking that from what I knew about my anatomy by then, that thing was not going to fit up there.  That was an extremely painful visit, both physically and emotionally. The tech never told me exactly what was going on, but at the same time, I knew they were struggling getting any sound images with what they had to work with.

Then back to the physician...we're looking at over a month later at this point, no diagnosis.
Then I had the worse experience of it all. I would love to name the physician who blew me away and was the worst ever, but I am not. I have worked to forget about her over the years.

Let's call her Dr. H. I insisted upon going to a female MD because I was not comfortable at the time with a man looking at me.
I went into the appointment, which was my second gynecological exam.

Dr. H opens up this drawer of speculums (those cold metal things they put in your vagina). She proceeds to explain what each of them are for..."This one is for girls who have not had sex" "This one is for sexually active girls" "This is for girls who have had babies." I think you get the idea.

She proceeds to try to put the smallest one in the place one would think a vagina would be located.

No luck.

I forgot to say the room was full of people. That was weird for me too.

I don't remember any more of that exam other than Dr. H telling me that I could adopt and have kids in other ways.

WHAT?

I cried so much partially because of the invasion and partially because I did not understand the ramifications of this news presented to me while I was laying on the table spread eagle. @#$%^ seriously.

**********


Read my entire diagnosis story.  Note at the bottom of each post is a theme, and if you would like to read more about a particular theme (i.e. dilation treatment, depression, dating, etc) click on the word below.

Thursday, July 15

The beginning: May 1998

I have wanted to start this a million times, in a million different ways. Something inside has stopped me.

But I can't stop it anymore.

I am hoping that somehow, someway to find some healing from this writing, and even better if I can help someone else with it too.

Let's just get it out there.

I am part of the intersexual/transgendered world, but not out of my own doing.

Like thousands of other people, I was born that way.

I made my own vagina, and it's a constant work in progress.

**********

Read my entire diagnosis story.  Note at the bottom of each post is a theme, and if you would like to read more about a particular theme (i.e. dilation treatment, depression, dating, etc) click on the word below.