Month: January 2021

Postpartum Update: 5 Months

We’ve all seen the representations of postpartum people in media who are frustrated with not being able to lose ‘those last five pounds’ when they’re five weeks postpartum. Let me tell you now, this is not reality. At least not for me.

My body did a whole lot more during pregnancy and birth than just put on a few pounds. Therefore, my body finding it’s way to a new, stable normal is not all about losing weight. Maybe I’ll get back to my pre-pregnancy weight, maybe I won’t. But more importantly, what is my body capable of doing and how does it feel?

PHYSICAL ENDURANCE AND MOBILITY

If you followed along with my pregnancy journey, you’ll know that I had severe pelvic and back pain that meant I was using a walker for mobility by week 14. Immediately postpartum I was able to start taking my regular medication and the pain improved quickly. But the impact of six months of limited mobility doesn’t go away over night.

I had a lot of joint stiffness and residual associated pain. I had significant muscle weakness in certain muscle groups (and still do to some extent). And I had extremely limited cardiovascular and muscular endurance.

I have been working on all of these as much as I can (giving the limited extra energy when caring for a baby). Initially I was mostly doing slow easy stretching and gentle movement and short walks. More recently I have done cardio exercise in the form of climbing the stairs while wearing the baby, using my rowing machine, and going for fast paced walks, strengthening exercise while playing with the baby on the floor or using the baby as a weight, and endurance exercise in the form of longer walks at normal pace. I even went skating for the first time today!

Each time I try another activity or try to push myself I come up against a very sudden limit in strength or endurance. I’m going along enjoying the feel of my body moving when suddenly I have no power. My muscles turn to water and my joints cease. I slow down or take a break to stretch, and try to continue. Often I can get a bit more out of my body but at much lower intensity or poorer quality. And that’s ok. That’s just where I’m at. Every bit counts.

Even if I wasn’t trying to improve my strength and endurance, just the act of moving my body and expending positive energy makes me feel less antsy, more patient, happier, and more connected with myself in a positive way.

HORMONE FLUCTUATIONS

At around two and half months postpartum I started having similar symptoms to when I was taking fertility drugs and when I was immediately postpartum. Wooziness, light headed, foggy, weepy, laughter easily becoming hysterics. Yes, apparently this is normal.

There is a hormone shift at 2.5-3.5 months postpartum and again somewhere between 6 and 9 months postpartum. My hormones were taking the next step in leveling out. Ugh. Not looking forward to going through that again but hopefully the next wave of this will be the last.

OTHER SYMPTOMS

  • All birthing trauma has healed (I had nothing severe and no C-section).
  • Despite having low milk supply initially and now decreasing lactation, my period has not yet returned (yay!).
  • I had some increase in hair loss around the time of the hormone shift but nothing extreme and it seems to have leveled out.
  • My belly is still round in a more pregnancy like shape than my typical body shape but is down to about my early second trimester size.
  • I had many many stretch marks that have somewhat faded into a soft, saggy, pouch of excess skin below my belly.

EMOTIONAL EFFECTS

As I am now trying to figure out what being a parent means and often exhausted from caring for my baby, I am definitely not in the same place emotionally as I was pre-pregnancy and never will be and that’s fine. Becoming a parent changes you and I am embracing and navigating that change.

But there are emotional effects from the experience of being pregnant and giving birth that stuck with me for a while. A few weeks postpartum, when the extreme fatigue had worn off a bit, I started having mild panic attacks when I was lying in my bed trying to go to sleep because I would be transported to the moments when I was waiting for another contraction to happen. That lasted for a few nights but, with the help of my husband talking me through it, wore off and hasn’t returned.

Looking back on being pregnant, remembering how it felt, is extremely surreal. Even when I see pictures of myself when I was pregnant. I know that it happened to me, I can remember that it happened, but I have a very hard time actually feeling what it felt like at the time. My body just felt so different than it ever had before and than it does now.

I can remember little things, like what it felt like when my baby had hiccups, what different stages of contractions felt like, and what my baby helping along my contractions felt like. But the overall experience of being pregnant? What it felt like to move around? It is very vague and very surreal. And maybe that’s ok.

So have I ‘recovered’ from being pregnant? No. I don’t even know what that means. Pregnancy doesn’t feel like something I need to recover from. I’m not trying to re-create my pre-pregnancy body. And as debilitating as my pregnancy was, it wasn’t a negative experience.

I am five months postpartum and very happy with what my body is capable of doing these days. I will continue to be curious and fascinated by all the changes just as I was during pregnancy. It is a continuation of the process that began with pregnancy. It did not end at my baby’s birth and will not have reached a conclusion for many months yet. So here’s to the journey.

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Discovering My Identity as a Parent

Recently, I’ve been thinking about my identity as a parent. Yes, as someone who has a child I am responsible for, I am automatically deemed a parent. But what does that actually mean for me as a person? What does it mean to identify as a parent? How does this new part of my identity mesh or clash with other components of who I am?

As a queer person, I have an understanding that identity is fluid, multifaceted, and individual. I have had the experience of exploring new aspects of my identity as a gay person and as a nonbinary person. In drawing parallels with my new experience as a parent, I had a bit of an ‘aha’ moment that I wanted to share with you.

STAGES OF QUEER IDENTITY DEVELOPMENT

For me, discovering and exploring aspects of my queer identity followed a similar process: from unaware/baseline, to awareness, resistance, exploration, acceptance, immersion, and finally, integration. My process of moving through these stages was different when I was discovering my sexuality vs my gender.

Before figuring out I was gay I was assumed to be straight but really I didn’t have much sense of my own sexuality. Figuring out I was gay involved very little resistance for me because of the liberal environment I was raised in. I went from awareness to exploration to acceptance very quickly. I was still in early high school at that point with little autonomy for accessing the queer community. But as soon as I went to university away from home, I entered the immersion stage and became involved in the queer club, went to all the queer events, hung out with primarily queer friends, and went to queer bars. I always had something rainbow on, hung my rainbow flag on my door, and talked about queerness every chance I got. Over a couple years, this faded to being just one component of my identity (integration).

Figuring out I was nonbinary went through the same stages but at a very different rate. Despite having a gendery experience in high school, I remained unaware of my non-cis gender identity for years after and probably would have said I was a woman. During my husband’s transition I became aware of nonbinary identities and developed an awareness of my own but did not feel like I had the energy to explore it or deal with the consequences that exploration might bring. I remained in the resistance stage for at least two years. By the time I finally got the space and courage to explore my gender, I already knew that I was nonbinary and had accepted it, I just didn’t know what to do about it. So I immersed myself in this part of my identity for six months to a year, figuring out all the different facets of my gender, how to explain it to people, and connecting with a gender diverse group of friends. This has slowly faded to a more integrated level but remains a larger part of my overall identity than being gay did.

The ‘coming out’ process started at different points for these two identities. I came out as gay immediately after the acceptance stage, before immersion. I am still working on coming out as nonbinary despite being somewhere between the immersion and integration stages.

HOW THIS RELATES TO MY IDENTITY AS A PARENT

Because of the external and concrete nature of being a parent, the first couple stages don’t apply as much. I wasn’t a parent, and then, suddenly, I was. However, the process of resistance through to integration is more about the emotional and personal relationship with this new aspect of my identity, so I think it still applies.

So where am I at in the process? At this stage of things, four and a half months in, I’m still not really sure what it means to be a parent. I’ve been resisting my new parental identity because I didn’t want to lose the rest of who I am. If I lose who I am, all my emotions will be tied up in how well I feel like I’m doing as a parent. And since there are many aspects of this parenting thing that I have no control over, that seemed like a dangerous game.

Then I realized that ‘losing who I am’ was part of the process – the immersion stage. I had been too scared of what that would feel like to allow myself to move through the stages of exploring this new identity. Since making this connection, I have quickly moved from exploration to acceptance and, a bit nervously, into immersion.

It definitely feels different to allow myself to become immersed in an aspect of my identity and existence that is so strongly dependent on something external to myself. I feel like I have less control over my exploration process (and therefore, how it will integrate with the rest of my identity in the long run) than I did with the queer aspects of my identity. Add to that the fact that we are in the middle of a global pandemic and therefore have limited access to the social activities and groups that I might engage in as part of the immersion stage.

Needless to say, exploring my identity of being a parent will be different from exploring my queer identities. Regardless, I can’t jump straight from acceptance to integration. But maybe, since the identity of being a parent is a more external one, so too is the immersion process. Who I am internally, all those pieces I have fought to understand and accept, can stay where they are. I’m not going to ignore my experience as a nonbinary person while figuring out what it means to be a parent. I’m going to figure out what it means to be a nonbinary, queer parent.

What stages did you go through in exploring your queer identity? How did you feel in your role as a new parent? Leave me a comment to share your experiences. I’d love to know how you navigated these transformational experiences.

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Gender in Isolation

In the time of the COVID 19 pandemic, many of us are living in physical isolation. We have significantly less social interaction, especially with strangers, and the majority of our social time is over the internet using video chat. Depending on your situation, this time of isolation may have been helpful or harmful as it relates to your gender. For me, it has been a bit of both.

My experience of isolation, in general, has been positive. I live with a supportive spouse, I have job and housing security, and I haven’t had any major medical incidents (other than giving birth to our baby). I know this is not the case for everyone, especially queer and trans people. Many are isolated with family members that are not supportive of their identity or even abusive. Many have lost their income. Many have had major mental or physical health crises. If your experience differs from mine, I would love to hear about it. Please share in the comments or send me an email. However, I will stick to my own experiences for the purposes of this post.

HELPFUL ASPECTS OF ISOLATION

Separating Physical and Social Dysphoria Triggers

When I am home alone, or with only my spouse, the majority of my dysphoria goes away. This has made it even more obvious to me how much of my dysphoria is triggered by social interactions and how important it is for me to build a life for myself where I am predominantly in supportive environments. The flip side of this is that it also has shown me what aspects of my dysphoria are present regardless of social interaction. These are physical and part of my experience even when I’m by myself.

For example, I always assumed my dysphoria related to my chest was triggered by having other people see me as female as a result of the shape of my chest. Turns out I have almost the same amount of dysphoria even when I’m by myself, it’s just easier to ignore because it’s not compounded by all the other socially triggered parts of dysphoria.

Decreased Social Dysphoria

About 75% of my dysphoria is triggered by social situations. This includes being misgendered, hearing female language used to refer to me, and being expected to look and act a certain way. Since being in isolation, I have had so much less exposure to these triggers that I have way more energy and emotional bandwidth to spend on other things, like taking care of my four month old!

Seeing how much of a difference this has made has given me incentive to try to be open about my gender when interacting with new people and even work on coming out to other people in my life. Hopefully over time this will shape my social environment into a more supportive one that has fewer triggers for dysphoria.

Space to Experiment in Safety

Though I haven’t felt the need to experiment in the last few months as I have done a fair amount of this already, I have found isolation necessary to experiment in the past. Trying something in private has always been the first step in seeing how I feel about it gender-wise. If it feels good, I’ll try it in a queer inclusive space next. If it doesn’t, I’m always glad I tried it on my own first.

The isolation isn’t just good for the experimentation but also for the process of building up courage and taking care of myself afterwards. Sometimes this means laying out what I want to try and just holding it up to myself or feeling it before trying it on. Sometimes it means having time to take pictures or look in the mirror. Sometimes it means changing into comfy clothes and working out or cleaning afterwards to get rid of excess energy and re-ground myself in my body. Almost always, it means having time to journal about the experience either immediately after or a day or two later. Having to interact with others while feeling vulnerable and confused about the experience is extremely taxing. So doing the experiments is always easier during a period of isolation.

DIFFICULT ASPECTS OF ISOLATION

Testing Public Reactions

Often when I make a change to my appearance or behaviour I am doing it in an attempt to influence how other people see me and interact with me. Seeing how the change influences others can’t be done without social interaction. This means that while I may find ways of being that I am very comfortable with for myself, it may not have the effect I’m hoping for when I’m out in public or at work. This stage of experimentation will have to wait for when the social isolation has ended.

Coming Out and Reinforcing the Change

Being in isolation may have given me the bandwidth to build up courage to come out to more people and shown me how necessary it is but it doesn’t allow me to reinforce the changes that others have to make as a result. Coming out as trans or nonbinary requires a bunch of work from the other party. For me, this usually includes changing the pronouns and language they use to refer to me. Most people can’t do this without significant practice. And most people need to be corrected when they get it wrong before they start to correct themselves or get it right on the first try.

Without the regular social interaction following coming out, I can’t do this repeated correcting and reinforcing. Sometimes this means the change in how they refer to me happens slower, and sometimes it stalls and doesn’t happen at all and I have to repeat the coming out process at a later date.

Separation from Queer and Trans Support

While the global pandemic has led to many support groups moving online and therefore becoming accessible to me even though I don’t live in the area, it has also led to not having access to my in person, local group of queer and trans friends. There’s something different about meeting in person that I don’t get from an online group. I miss it and I’m looking forward to the days when I can get it back.

How has isolation influenced your relationship with your gender, either recently or in the past? Leave me a comment or send me an email with your thoughts and experiences!

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Childhood Influences on Parenting Experiences

Note: This is the first guest post on the blog! If you listened to Season 1 of Let’s Talk Gender, you’ll have heard Jake talk about his transition. Now you get the first blog post from him. Enjoy!

As trans people, we know that a person’s sex doesn’t dictate their gender and upholding societal expectations of gender would be hurtful to our child’s existence. The gender of the child is especially irrelevant in the early stages of parenting because babies are mostly blobs. As they grow we will help them explore the vast world of gender. Regardless of how our child chooses to present and identify in the future, we will love and support them.

And yet, when we were trying to get pregnant, the question of “are we hoping for a boy or a girl?” still came up. I was hoping slightly more for a boy. I thought that raising a girl and trying to build up her confidence against a misogynistic world would be harder than teaching a boy about privilege.

I was beyond thrilled when our 10 week blood test came back with no abnormal chromosomal conditions and that we would be having a boy. I felt that I could vicariously live through his “male” childhood since I didn’t get to have one myself.

This is not fair to him. It is his childhood, not mine. Even by virtue of who his parents are, his childhood will be completely different from mine. However, this reaction, and the subsequent un-learning, has lead to a lot of reflection.

HOW MY PARENTS GENDERED ME

My mother had me at 19, and whether it was a function of her age, because it was the 80’s, or because of who she is as a person, she let us do what we wanted. My sister and I played with what we wanted, where we wanted, and wore what we wanted. My mom’s easy-going approach was a big reason why it took so long for me to realize I was trans (but more on that in a different post).

My father, however, was 8 years older and grew up in a military house. He always said that he wanted to make his love apparent to us since he didn’t feel it much from his parents when he was growing up, but he was much more strict about what was expected from us, including enforcing societal views on how we should be acting as girls.

RAISING ‘BOYS’

My parents divorced and remarried and my dad had another child who is now 7 years old. My dad has mellowed with age and perhaps a marriage that is more his style, and mentions frequently that he regrets how he raised us, that he was too strict, and wishes he let us express more of who we were.

In watching my dad interact with his young son, I am amazed at how lenient he is with him. Maybe my dad has become more easy-going, as he says, or maybe he is more willing to let his son do what he wants because “boys will be boys.” My dad has mentioned that his son is “all boy” in the way he interacts – he is rough and boisterous and doesn’t like to follow instructions. He has also said he wants to take good care of his health because “it is clear to him that my son will need a strong male role model” in his life. These are not phrases I would be comfortable using in reference to my own child.

My dad frequently sends me texts about his son and his bodily discoveries, saying “Just wait til your son gets older”, and “boys!! oi-vey!!”. I know he sends these in an attempt to commiserate and create a bond that is strangely based on our child’s genitals, but it leaves me feeling dysphoric and unsatisfied with my childhood. Of course I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with a penis and experience all those discoveries. Of course I don’t know what it’s like to experience the freedom that’s granted to boys and not girls, and seems to be perpetuated by my dad.

But will I let this dissatisfaction make me overcompensate with my own child? Will I let the influences my parents had on me dictate how I raise my own child? Not if I can help it.

MOVING FORWARD

While I initially fell victim to the same “do I want a boy or a girl” thinking that seems to predominantly afflict cis and heteronormative parents-to-be, what’s important is how to move forward. I vow to do better by my child. I challenge my assumptions when I think of my child as a grown up. I remind myself to not restrict myself (or my child) simply based on what genitals he was born with.

While we have chosen to use he/him pronouns for our child, we don’t believe that this dictates his gender. We avoid all other gendered language (son, little man, good boy, etc). We put him in clothes that we like and that fit him, regardless of design or colour. And we will be allowing him to play with any toys, where he wants, and to wear what he wants. We will be asking open questions about gender and presentation and be honest with him about our own identities.

While I initially wanted a boy, I now truly understand that it wouldn’t matter. My baby is my baby and will grow up into whatever human being they want to be.

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When Caring for your Child Triggers Dysphoria

When we picture having a child we think of sleepy cuddles, bonding while feeding, and being an expert at diaper changes. The reality is not always so rosy. Maybe our baby has health struggles, we struggle with mental health postpartum, or, in my case, dysphoria gets in the way.

There are multitude of ways dysphoria can be triggered when caring for your child, depending on how you experience the most dysphoria and what your child care roles are. Personally, I found nursing to cause the most dysphoria, then later, pumping was causing less but was still building up over time, as well as all the sensations in my chest associated with lactation.

I noticed it was getting in the way of being able to bond with my baby the way I wanted to and stopping me from being present in order to notice the small daily changes my baby was making. I couldn’t pay attention to my baby while nursing. I had a spike in dysphoria when holding my baby against my chest. And I was dreading the time I had to spend pumping which made me irritable and easily frustrated.

So I developed a number of strategies to use depending on the situation to decrease the interference of dysphoria. Even if the trigger for your dysphoria is different, I hope these strategies will help you navigate caring for your child in a way that minimizes your dysphoria and maximizes your ability to bond.

BE HONEST

Be honest with yourself, your social supports (partner, doulas, close family or friends), and your medical supports (midwife, doctors, mental health professionals, lactation consultants). As much as we are taught that it is, it is not shameful to feel dysphoria, even when it is triggered by something like caring for your baby or child. The only way to make the situation better for everyone is to be open and honest about it.

This will also help narrow down the trigger. Often, I would be feeling irritable, fatigued, or burnt out and not recognize it as dysphoria related. Then, once my husband and I realized it was likely dysphoria, it still took a bit of conscious awareness to figure out the trigger which for me was nursing. Upon further discussion, observation, and testing, we figured out what would need to be modified to decrease or eliminate the dysphoria. There is no way I would have been able to do all this on my own.

ASK FOR HELP

Sometimes you need someone to take over the dysphoria-triggering task, even if temporarily, to give you a break and build up some reserve. But this isn’t always an option. My husband couldn’t take over lactation for me. So instead of taking over that specific task, even having them offload other tasks can give you more energy to deal with the dysphoria and still have enough left over to bond with your child.

For example, my husband does as many feedings as he can each day as they typically coincide with pumping times. This allows me to pump without the stress of wondering when the baby will wake up and scream for food or delay pumping in order to feed the baby resulting in increased chest discomfort.

FIND OTHER BONDING TIME

If dysphoria gets in the way of bonding with your baby during typical bonding tasks, prioritize bonding at other times. Carve out some play time or snuggle time when it is less likely to trigger dysphoria. Find a snuggle strategy or style of play that is more comfortable for you. I look for the times when the baby is alert and playful and drop what I’m doing to play on the floor, read a book, sing and dance, or go for a walk. This takes time away from other things but getting extra housework or personal stuff done doesn’t make up for the lack of bonding time at the end of the day.

I also found I was missing little changes and new behaviours my baby was doing because I was too busy trying to ignore or deal with the dysphoria. So, on days when I felt particularly dysphoric and disconnected, I would use my journal to write down my own personal challenges and triumphs for that day (to disconnect it from the baby) and some of the new things the baby was doing or a fun moment we shared that day. Just taking the time to think back on the day in order to write it down helped bring those moments into focus through the haze of dysphoria.

ADJUST YOUR CHILD CARE STRATEGY

Sometimes, despite all your efforts to manage it, the dysphoria is too strong or is getting progressively worse. As much as you would like to care for your baby/child in the ‘optimal’ way, that is not always what’s best for you and therefore best for your child. Sometimes we have to compromise on our preferred style of care in order to take care of ourselves and minimize dysphoria.

This could mean using disposable diapers instead of cloth to make diaper changes faster. Or switching to bottle feeding instead of nursing. Or switching to formula and stopping lactation altogether. Or having the baby in the stroller for walks instead of the carrier. Or doing ‘skin-to-skin’ time with the baby lying on your lap instead of your chest. There are always other options.

For us, this meant switching from nursing to pumping and bottle feeding after two weeks. I had the goal of feeding my baby my milk for the first six months but once my supply increased to >75% of my baby’s intake, the amount of sensation from my chest started increasing my dysphoria much faster. So we decided to decrease lactation earlier and slowly switch to formula. This may increase my baby’s gas. This may not be my preferred method of feeding my baby, or what society tells me is best. But it’s what’s best for us.

What I’ve found is that, even though it’s not my preferred method of care, the next-best option that results in less dysphoria feels significantly better and allows me to engage in the care a lot more, resulting in a much better experience for my baby as well. There is no harm in trying different things. You should never rule out options based on preconceived ideas from society. If it’s the best option for you (and still meets your baby’s basic needs), it’s the best option for your baby as well.

What baby/child care tasks trigger your dysphoria? What strategies do you use to deal with it so it doesn’t interfere with bonding with your child? Leave me a comment below or send me an email! The more strategies we share with each other the better!

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