Hormone Hell and Gender Identity
May. 30th, 2007 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpI have such a love-hate relationship with hormones. On one hand, I love what I've been able to accomplish (and will soon be accomplishing) by messing around with my natural set-up of hormones. I'm doing something that I'd been told and always thought was out of my reach, and hey, what can I say? I like to do the impossible. But on the other hand, it's been 27 months now that I haven't been myself. I don't even really recognize myself. I'm some medically-twisted New Me.
I started taking Metformin in February of 2005, somewhat out of curiosity and somewhat out of concern for my health. I wasn't concerned about my hormone makeup (high testosterone, mildly high estrogen, no progesterone in sight, lots of other wackiness) but was starting to get concerned about creeping cholesterol (even though I'm a pretty healthy eater) and the weight that just wouldn't go away. I had been asking doctors if I had PCOS for many years, and had always been told no - usually because I have no cysts on my ovaries. I finally found a PCP who agreed that you didn't need cysts to have PCOS, and confirmed everything with lots of bloodwork. When I found out that I had elevated insulin levels, I figured I would give drugs a try to see what would happen. I didn't want to end up with Type II Diabetes. My PCP was not an endocrinologist and didn't know much about PCOS treatment, so I started on a pretty low dose of Metformin, 1000mg/day.
I took 1000mg/day for a year. In that year, I went from not having any cycles at all to having 60-75 day cycles fairly consistently (with a little break when my dad died). It was pretty wacky. And I started losing weight, but I didn't know if it was drug-related or gym-related, as I'd become fairly rigorous with the gym at the same time. The doctor thought that getting a period every 2-3 months was good enough if it was good enough for me. Personally, I'd rather have none but whatever.
I could still be read as either male or female depending on the person or the day, and felt mostly comfortable in my own skin outside of the cycles and the occasional fluctuating hormones. (Remember, no cycles means no PMS.) Progesterone is not kind to me - I had major anger attacks on birth control pills in college and had HUGE freak-out drama cryfests on Provera in the past - so ovulating brought its own fun. But it was still dealable.
Jen and I had been talking about having kids for a really long time, and the assumption was always that she would carry. (The perks of a two-uterus home.) She kept saying she "needed to get ready," and I was getting awfully impatient. On top of that, I thought that my history should get most things covered by insurance which would be a big help. I asked my PCP about it, she didn't have any insights, but told me to see a specialist and ask. So I did.
That's when I got a referral to The Baby Factory. The minute I walked in the door, I was floored by the affluence and the attitude. I met a cocky man who not only basically /guaranteed/ us a baby, he was ready to start immediately. And what can I say, we got excited. So we jumped right in. That was February 2006. (Insurance did end up covering, by the way, but not because of an infertility diagnosis. Oh no, when they had that, they wanted me to pay a year out of pocket to PROVE it. However, they agreed to pay when I told them that I was unable to conceive children with my ex-husband from 1999-2001. Asshats.)
After a year of 1000mg of Metformin, I started taking 2000mg. The results were dramatic. I had textbook regular 35ish day cycles from the first moment I took the drug, which is kind of unusual. I lost weight like wildfire. And at that point it started to hit me that my body was totally different. I lost a lot of the weight in my belly and thighs that made me look solid - instead I was a curvy butt girl with more noticeable boobs. I lost a ton of weight in the face that I didn't mind. But then I realized that I couldn't really wear most of my pants. They looked /ridiculous/. I didn't have the shape to wear guys' pants anymore and they were all falling down and looking terrible. What fit were girly girl pants. I went from a 36 men's to a 14 women's to a 12 women's to a 10 women's.
When I changed clothes, I started to look silly. It was weird to have boy hair and girly clothes. So I grew the hair to match the clothes. And I got a lot of attention and a LOT of compliments. It was actually kind of weird and off-putting. Guys were looking at me out in public, coworkers were telling me I was "so pretty," etc.
But... it worked! Between all of that cycle-regulating, the ovulation-induction meds, and the store-bought sperm, I got knocked up. It seemed like it took forever but in actuality was about 8 months with 5 insemination tries... which is actually pretty reasonable and quite amazing for someone who had no cycles a few years prior. It came with a high emotional price, though, with tons of mood swings and crying and Clomid Hell and PMS to the extreme and then, umm, pregnancy fun. Which is a nice way of saying that I think I have been crying for eight months straight. (Did I mention that progesterone and I don't mix?)
I had girly clothes and girly hair and now a big ole belly. I look, for all intents and purposes, like a straight, married lady with a baby. I have lost my gender identity (or lack thereof) and I have lost my queer identity. I don't get the head bobs, the i-know-about-you looks. If I walk with Jen I get read as queer because SHE gets read as queer. I've become totally invisible.
At![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eeka13's and violacat's wedding last year, Jen and I were read as a butch/femme couple by a self-identified butch/femme couple that they are friends with. I guess they were excited to see another couple "like them." When I found out, I cried for three days. Seriously. Some of it was pregnancy, but most of it... well, how could I go from being read as male to being read as femme? Such a freaking turnaround in a year and a half's time.
Last weekend we were in Home Depot buying our lawnmower and this adorable young lesbian insisted on helping us check out. She commented about us having a baby, said she was trying to convince her wife to have a baby, and then gave Jen a high-five. You know, because I guess she convinced HER wife to have a baby. And I just felt so deflated. I've been hauling and growing this kid for eight months and SHE gets a high-five? For what? What did I get? She didn't even LOOK at me.
I can't even imagine that any of this will make any sense to most people. My thoughts are so jumbled around all of this, and so emotionally charged, that I can't even write coherently about it. But it's there, and has been there for a long time, and only gets worse. I am so thankful for being pregnant and growing our baby and I am so sad for the loss of myself. I'm not even sure if there is an answer, or maybe if things will disappear in the bliss and challenges of parenthood.
But I know that I look at pictures from three years ago and see myself, and look at pictures from now and wonder who that person is. I guess I will keep telling myself it will get better with time.
I started taking Metformin in February of 2005, somewhat out of curiosity and somewhat out of concern for my health. I wasn't concerned about my hormone makeup (high testosterone, mildly high estrogen, no progesterone in sight, lots of other wackiness) but was starting to get concerned about creeping cholesterol (even though I'm a pretty healthy eater) and the weight that just wouldn't go away. I had been asking doctors if I had PCOS for many years, and had always been told no - usually because I have no cysts on my ovaries. I finally found a PCP who agreed that you didn't need cysts to have PCOS, and confirmed everything with lots of bloodwork. When I found out that I had elevated insulin levels, I figured I would give drugs a try to see what would happen. I didn't want to end up with Type II Diabetes. My PCP was not an endocrinologist and didn't know much about PCOS treatment, so I started on a pretty low dose of Metformin, 1000mg/day.
I took 1000mg/day for a year. In that year, I went from not having any cycles at all to having 60-75 day cycles fairly consistently (with a little break when my dad died). It was pretty wacky. And I started losing weight, but I didn't know if it was drug-related or gym-related, as I'd become fairly rigorous with the gym at the same time. The doctor thought that getting a period every 2-3 months was good enough if it was good enough for me. Personally, I'd rather have none but whatever.
I could still be read as either male or female depending on the person or the day, and felt mostly comfortable in my own skin outside of the cycles and the occasional fluctuating hormones. (Remember, no cycles means no PMS.) Progesterone is not kind to me - I had major anger attacks on birth control pills in college and had HUGE freak-out drama cryfests on Provera in the past - so ovulating brought its own fun. But it was still dealable.
Jen and I had been talking about having kids for a really long time, and the assumption was always that she would carry. (The perks of a two-uterus home.) She kept saying she "needed to get ready," and I was getting awfully impatient. On top of that, I thought that my history should get most things covered by insurance which would be a big help. I asked my PCP about it, she didn't have any insights, but told me to see a specialist and ask. So I did.
That's when I got a referral to The Baby Factory. The minute I walked in the door, I was floored by the affluence and the attitude. I met a cocky man who not only basically /guaranteed/ us a baby, he was ready to start immediately. And what can I say, we got excited. So we jumped right in. That was February 2006. (Insurance did end up covering, by the way, but not because of an infertility diagnosis. Oh no, when they had that, they wanted me to pay a year out of pocket to PROVE it. However, they agreed to pay when I told them that I was unable to conceive children with my ex-husband from 1999-2001. Asshats.)
After a year of 1000mg of Metformin, I started taking 2000mg. The results were dramatic. I had textbook regular 35ish day cycles from the first moment I took the drug, which is kind of unusual. I lost weight like wildfire. And at that point it started to hit me that my body was totally different. I lost a lot of the weight in my belly and thighs that made me look solid - instead I was a curvy butt girl with more noticeable boobs. I lost a ton of weight in the face that I didn't mind. But then I realized that I couldn't really wear most of my pants. They looked /ridiculous/. I didn't have the shape to wear guys' pants anymore and they were all falling down and looking terrible. What fit were girly girl pants. I went from a 36 men's to a 14 women's to a 12 women's to a 10 women's.
When I changed clothes, I started to look silly. It was weird to have boy hair and girly clothes. So I grew the hair to match the clothes. And I got a lot of attention and a LOT of compliments. It was actually kind of weird and off-putting. Guys were looking at me out in public, coworkers were telling me I was "so pretty," etc.
But... it worked! Between all of that cycle-regulating, the ovulation-induction meds, and the store-bought sperm, I got knocked up. It seemed like it took forever but in actuality was about 8 months with 5 insemination tries... which is actually pretty reasonable and quite amazing for someone who had no cycles a few years prior. It came with a high emotional price, though, with tons of mood swings and crying and Clomid Hell and PMS to the extreme and then, umm, pregnancy fun. Which is a nice way of saying that I think I have been crying for eight months straight. (Did I mention that progesterone and I don't mix?)
I had girly clothes and girly hair and now a big ole belly. I look, for all intents and purposes, like a straight, married lady with a baby. I have lost my gender identity (or lack thereof) and I have lost my queer identity. I don't get the head bobs, the i-know-about-you looks. If I walk with Jen I get read as queer because SHE gets read as queer. I've become totally invisible.
At
eeka13's and violacat's wedding last year, Jen and I were read as a butch/femme couple by a self-identified butch/femme couple that they are friends with. I guess they were excited to see another couple "like them." When I found out, I cried for three days. Seriously. Some of it was pregnancy, but most of it... well, how could I go from being read as male to being read as femme? Such a freaking turnaround in a year and a half's time.Last weekend we were in Home Depot buying our lawnmower and this adorable young lesbian insisted on helping us check out. She commented about us having a baby, said she was trying to convince her wife to have a baby, and then gave Jen a high-five. You know, because I guess she convinced HER wife to have a baby. And I just felt so deflated. I've been hauling and growing this kid for eight months and SHE gets a high-five? For what? What did I get? She didn't even LOOK at me.
I can't even imagine that any of this will make any sense to most people. My thoughts are so jumbled around all of this, and so emotionally charged, that I can't even write coherently about it. But it's there, and has been there for a long time, and only gets worse. I am so thankful for being pregnant and growing our baby and I am so sad for the loss of myself. I'm not even sure if there is an answer, or maybe if things will disappear in the bliss and challenges of parenthood.
But I know that I look at pictures from three years ago and see myself, and look at pictures from now and wonder who that person is. I guess I will keep telling myself it will get better with time.
