Caught in Transition (18 page)

A life without Sheelagh was impossible. I felt sad and unhappy with the thought of her having GRS, but I would be more unhappy living without her. I understand the saying that no one can make you happy, you have to make yourself happy, but I wasn
’
t happy. I believed with time I could be. The best way to appreciate someone is to imagine your life without them.

I hope that this surgery will be her last one. It will be the sixth surgical procedure she’s undergone in the past four years. So far she has survived the procedures (which is kind of obvious, since I’m still writing about us), but she has had difficult recoveries and one failed procedure.

What GRS is About

GRS is an abbreviation for genital reconstruction surgery. This surgery used to be called sex-change surgery, but the changing is not sex or gender; it is genital only. The term is more correct about its purpose and effect since the transperson is certain of their gender. It is how the world views them that can change as a result of the procedure.

Most states, provinces and countries that support the changing of sex designation on a birth certificate require proof of GRS in order to make the change to the paperwork.

The variety of GRS that Sheelagh was planning to undergo is referred to as “male-to-female". More exactly penis-to-vagina conversion, and in that change the common definition of what is female can then be applied to the person who has been successfully operated on.

In the eyes of people who are not transsexual, the surgery is considered to be the procedure that allows them to view the affected person as a member of the sex that they identify with. The transsexual person regards this as a momentous and life changing event, but transwomen already see themselves as female, and transmen know themselves as male.

This surgery can be a huge turning point in a transperson’s life.

Genital Reconstruction Surgery

Preparing

The date for Sheelagh’s surgery was quickly approaching which meant she had to stop all her pain medication as well as all the vitamins and supplements she was on. She had chronic back pain, so the loss of the pain medication made a big difference to her quality of life.

It was soon the last weekend she could have a drink, because after the surgery there was no alcohol allowed for three weeks. We shared our good and inexpensive Cabernet Sauvignon and Negroamaro wine all three nights, and accompanied the wine with good aged cheese. Her Weight Watcher’s program definitely went out the window!

I knew Sheelagh was excited but also nervous about the impending operation. We knew transsexual women who had looked forward with great anticipation to having GRS. The pervasive myth is that transsexual women hate their penises and want to be rid of them, so the thought of the removal of that part of their body is a great relief to them.
 

In most of the world, this surgery is what will allow them to be known to the world as a woman and no longer as a man. Many transwomen are on their own, divorced or never married, and younger in comparison to Sheelagh. Sacrificing this part of her body wasn’t as easy for her as it might have been if she were younger.
 

She had spent many years living in the body she’d been stuck with and had found ways to enjoy what she had, though it wasn’t perfect. She also had me, someone who loved and cared about her and the sex life we had enjoyed in the past. She definitely still agonized about making the final decision about having GRS.

She had come across a list of questions that were meant to help someone know whether they were making the right choice:

• Will this choice propel me toward an inspiring future or will it keep me stuck in the past?
  
• Will this choice bring me long term fulfillment or will it bring me short term gratification?
  
• Am I standing in my own power or am I trying to please another?
  
• Am I looking for what's right, or am I looking for what's wrong?
  
• Will this choice add to my life force, or will it rob me of my energy?
  
• Will I use this situation as a catalyst to grow and evolve or will I use it to beat myself up?
  
• Does this choice empower me or dis-empower me?
  
• Is this an act of self-love or self-sabotage?
  
• Is this an act of faith or an act of fear?
  
• Am I choosing from my Divinity or am I choosing from my humanity?
  

To all the questions, she easily answered yes and was satisfied she was making the right choice. Even with this knowledge she still experienced some unidentifiable anxiety. She was nervous that she wouldn’t have enough nerve endings left after the surgery to enjoy intimacy. She was also feeling a sense of loss because she would no longer experience connective sex and the closeness that goes with it. Then on top of that she was nervous that she would be the oldest patient in the hospital and have no one to relate to.

Sheelagh was feeling better than she had three weeks ago. Since then she had finally come to believe that even with the insecurities I was experiencing, I wasn’t going to leave her. I had been worried that since she planned to have full GRS, that she would be unable to resist the temptation to try out her new female genitals with women or even other men. I knew it was never her plan to be disloyal. It was just one of those thoughts that niggled in the back of my mind.

In order to get ready for Montreal Sheelagh made an appointment with a new hair stylist. The last appointment she had with a stylist was in 2012. Since that time she had been cutting her own hair. The last appointment had not gone well because the stylist talked to her as if she had the interests of a man. She talked about cars and sports which made Sheelagh feel like she was being treated like a man in a dress. Since then Sheelagh had undergone two hair transplants in the hope of never being embarrassed in that way again.

The new hair stylist she went to spent three hours with her. Her hair was now a very realistic golden-honey blonde with lots of depth. She was able to retire her wig and has been au natural since that day at the hairdressers. She looked amazing and said she felt great! She firmly believed that the cost and inconvenience of the hair transplants were well worth it.
 

When Sheelagh was preparing to leave for Montreal for the surgery, I was still not sure how I felt about it. Part of me felt that since the male parts didn’t work then they may as well go away. Then there’s the other part of me that feels this surgery would make everything too final. I know in my head that Sheelagh is a woman, but a little tiny piece of my heart still glimmered ever so slightly, with the hope of her changing back to Steve. A total fairy tale, but once GRS takes place that’s it - end of story.

She has said quite often in the past that if I wasn’t with her she would have this surgery. So there’s the answer - no matter what - she needed this procedure for her life to be complete. It’s just not what I needed.

We both thought about having sex one last time, but if we did and it didn’t work it would be very sad. If we did and it did work it would be even sadder. In the end we settled on cuddles and falling asleep in each other’s arms.
 

The next morning we awoke earlier than usual and moved next to one another, wrapped our arms around each other in the dark and whispered words of love. We lay there quietly, enjoying one another's warmth, presence and the sound of our gentle heartbeats. That was the last time we could be close until she returned. It brought tears to my eyes and I knew I was going to miss her so very much.

After her good byes to the puppies and getting her suitcase and things loaded into the car we were off to the train station. We had half an hour to wait and the time passed too quickly. Next thing I knew we were standing on the platform and the train was arriving. We held on to each other and shared a very tender kiss and then with one last hug she was on the train and on her way to Montreal. I headed back to my car and sat inside and just cried and cried. I cried because I knew I would miss her and I cried for what would never be.

I went back home and got all three dogs ready to go to the kennel. It’s a lot of work when you only have yourself to rely on. I finally got them wrangled into the car with all their paraphernalia and dropped them off at the place they would call home for the following eleven days. The two older dogs took off without a backwards glance, but the little guy just kept staring at me and wanting to come with me. That of course brought on another crying jag complete with guilt.

I had the house to myself - no one to worry about or look after except myself - now that was a feeling I didn’t get to experience very often. I enjoyed the solitude and peacefulness. I drank my way slowly through a bottle of wine, awesome pizza and popcorn, and had a pretty good evening.

The next day I loaded up my stuff to spend a week in St. Catharines with Sissy and Peeter. A time to reconnoiter, not be alone, and be pampered for a little while. At my sister’s it’s always about good food, fine wine, and fun company. It was a place where I could take time out for me and come to grips with everything.

Most days I was fine and it was fun being with family and seeing my nephew’s new house, but the odd day I needed to be alone. On Wednesday I drove to Niagara-on-the-Lake where my parents were buried. My mom had died only twenty-one months ago and seeing both their names on the grave stone just brought another wave of sadness. I sat on one of the benches and cried until I was all cried out. Thankfully I was the only one there at the time.

I felt so utterly alone. No mom and dad, no husband, no nothing, just me. I was definitely having a pity party. I finally got too cold sitting there and made my way back to the car and then to Sissy’s place. Staying there was a good choice. I needed the presence of people to get my mind redirected to other things and feelings.

The days were filled with shopping, and visits, and the evenings were full of food, wine and good conversation. Every day I was in touch with Sheelagh by texting, talking or emailing.

Her surgery went very well. By day two she was up and walking around the halls. The nurse was pleased with Sheelagh’s recovery. The next day she was moved to the recovery house and had to do stairs and get around on her own. She wasn’t in pain as much as she was in discomfort due to the swelling and tenderness. She made friends with the other GRS patients. It was good for her to be out of her comfort zone and in a position where she had to talk to strangers.

I remember asking her after she had had her breast augmentation done, if she felt weird having boobs.

She told me, “Not one bit, they just felt right.” She said she wasn't changed so much as restored. Her response about how she felt after the GRS was just the same as then. She said she was now in the right body.

Eleven days later and Sheelagh was headed back home. This time she was booked into business class so she would have more room and comfortable seats. I returned home and Sissy came with me to help out. She was there for puppy support as well as moral support. Thank goodness for sisters!

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when Sheelagh returned home. I knew she would be tired from travelling, but hopefully she would be happy to be back. Sheelagh was the second person off the train, once we collected her suitcase there were big hugs and kisses, we didn’t care who was watching us. Sheelagh was excited to be back, and I was excited to have her home. She was running on adrenaline, talking a mile a minute and walking all over the house.

After having some tea and cookies we went upstairs and set up her tray of goodies from dilators to douches. By this time Sheelagh was starting to run out of steam and was ready for a nap. She would need it because the post surgery process takes a lot of time and dedication. She would have to dilate four times a day, have a shower every morning, followed by two sitz baths, one in the afternoon and one in the evening.
 

At this point in time I was feeling okay with the whole thing. The first time Sheelagh showed me her surgery site it was an eye opening experience. If you took away the bruises and swelling you would never know there was ever a penis there because the work was done so well. I noticed Sheelagh stealing glances my way to gauge my feelings. I think she was worried I would be grossed out or judge her harshly. I was fine because I knew she was happy with the outcome and would just blossom from here on out.

I knew I would be on a constant learning curve regarding physical intimacy with Sheelagh since she had GRS, but one thing for sure was my love for her had not changed. She is my heart stone, and together we will always be Team May. This was a story of our love and would always be our love story.

Now you would think this was a logical and anticipated ending, but an ending it wasn’t.

Sheelagh came down off her endorphin high and settled into her routine. She was a lot more ambulatory and aware than I thought she would be. Sissy was still staying with us but there really wasn’t anything for her to do. Sheelagh didn’t need my help so I was free to look after the puppies and make the meals. Sheelagh felt uncomfortable having Sissy there because she was used to being able to walk around naked at the recovery house, but she couldn’t do it in her own home. Therefore Sissy left early to return to her family and Sheelagh got her house back.

On day five of being home Sheelagh became worried about how she was healing. Some stitches had come out much sooner than she was expecting them to. Miscommunication with medical people had her very concerned that an incision had broken open. One of her friends that had GRS at the same time as she did, developed a serious infection and was in a hospital out west. This weighed heavily on Sheelagh’s mind because she thought it could happen to her as well.