A Moment of PFLAG Portland Joy is a place where our members can anonymously share meaningful experiences they’ve had as an LGBTQ+ person or someone special to an LGBTQ+ person. Let us know at info@pflagpdx.org if you have a story you’d like to share.
3 years ago, my thoughts were dominated by the term Gender Affirming Care. This is a major train of thought for any trans woman. I decided upon liposuction for those “girl curves” and some weight loss.
I found the office where I wanted to go and started all the appointments. Keep in mind, multiple appointments with only minimal clothing for measurements and markings. I endured the cold treatment rooms and prodding with an end game in mind.
And, FINALLY! The big day. Hotel room nearby, medical escort arranged, and meds ready.
I walk in wearing my comfy, baggy clothes and check in. I’m so excited that I fidget and cannot sit still. Finally! My name is called and two amazing women nurses take me back to the treatment room where I change into the paper bra and undies and wait for the final treatment checks. It seems that time is a whirling blur and is sitting still all at once. Then a question snaps me right back to reality.
Nurse: Is there any chance you could be pregnant?
Me: Huh? Uuuh what?
Nurse: Could you be pregnant?
Mind racing. Simple vs. long answer? Blurt it out? Holy cow, what do I do? I mean the fact of who I am was discussed openly in the initial screening.
Me: No. No chance.
Nurse: Have you had a hysterectomy or any medical conditions that would render you unable to be pregnant?
Me: Uhh no.
The nurse excuses herself so she and the senior nurse can step out of the room and talk to the physician.
When they come back in, they tell me that I have to pee into a cup to ensure that I’m not pregnant. I can’t hold it in anymore.
I giggle a bit and say:
“First, thank you for affirming to me that I pass. You have no idea how much that means to me! And second, I am trans so I don’t have the ability to get pregnant. Wrong plumbing.”
The two nurses look at me, look in my file, look at each other, look back at me, and we all bust out laughing hysterically. The senior nurse tells me, “Don’t worry, hun. We’ll take good care of you.”
I feel seen and accepted.
They leave to go brief the doctor, and I hear continuing laughter. I envision that simple Wow conversation of How did that get missed? in the chart.
The doctor and nurses come in, ready to go. The doctor sits in front of me and looks me in the eyes. Besides being astonishingly gorgeous, she has such a calm and soothing demeanor.
“So, I hear that you’re a trans woman,” she says. “I want you to know that I am an ally with a trans sibling. I’m going to take good care of you.”
I was awake for the procedures. We giggled about funny experiences and stories with our gay and trans friends—how people like me are their friends, and in one case, family. How we had enriched their lives and brought love and light to them for being who WE are.
“Rebel Alliance from Star Wars” image provided by the author, who describes its significance: “No matter how many or how few, as long as there is one willing to resist, there is always hope.”