I had this weird dream the other night. It was about Izzy. Most of it has slipped away, as dreams are oft to do, but the feeling is still present. It was something about finding out Izzy wasn’t what I thought she was.
So that feels like a pretty standard dream for the mum of a recently transitioned child. Nothing surprising there.
It did however get me thinking. What if…
What if Izzy decides she’s not Izzy anymore, and she wants to go back to being a boy?
A month ago the answer to this was easy – we’ll throw a party! How easy life would become. We’d get Izzy’s haircut, change her name back and crack on.
Not so now. Now I have a daughter I love more fiercely than the son I had before. Still the same amount of love, but different. More conscious, more urgent, more alive.
Thinking about saying goodbye to this glorious being makes my heart break all over again. But. And it’s a fabulous but, I know that though my heart can be broken into a thousand jagged pieces, it can also mend, and once it’s mended, it’s bigger and stronger and more capable of love than it ever was before.
So how will I feel if my baby reverts to being a boy? Heartbroken. But she/he will never need to know that. He’ll have a mum who puts on a big smile, rolls with the punches, sucks up her pride, swallows down the snide comments and once again gathers around those that will accept us and love us regardless of how we express our gender.