Can You Believe We Did That?

Authors Note: This story contains the subject of IVF (in vitro fertilization) and a miscarriage. Please consider this before reading a story of hope, love, and overcoming hardships...

------------------------------------------------------

November 30th, 6:18 p.m.

Thanksgiving in the rearview, and we are heading into the holiday season a lot differently. This year we'd had one failed IVF (in vitro fertilization) round and a second that had us happily pregnant, but due to complications in the tenth week we lost baby Jennifer.

Cost, timing, fear of trying again, guilt, blaming ourselves, and heartache all weighed heavily on us. The toll of wanting a child and getting a glimpse of that possibility snatched away unfairly had challenged our marriage and now we were struggling to figure out how to deal with everything as Christmas fast approached. Having begun setting up the nursery, purchasing some clothing items, and getting a baby shower planned for early January were reminders of all we'd lost.

There was never a fear one or the other of us was looking for an exit, but things between us were certainly strained as we navigated the last couple months' post-Jennifer. At first, I tried to be that cheerleader, that rock Brandy always tended to be in our relationship, but it was difficult getting her motivated or to participate in the holidays. Nothing I tried doing to take on her grief and allow her time to just 'breathe' helped.

I would give anything to bear all of her pain and sorrow.

My idea to keep us in sync with our normal routines for the holidays, like pulling out the Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving, was met with resistance. It forced me to step back to allow Brandy space and time, and know that she was battling our loss differently than I was and from a much different place.

We were both strong, independent women, but my journey to womanhood was very different, and my path meant I lacked the ability to bear children. I was no less a woman, having those desires to be a mother one day since childhood -- not understanding until much later in life that that would not be possible in the traditional sense. I did as much as I could to make that a reality, yet only played a small role in the process of our being pregnant and most things pregnancy related.

I had been warned early on in my transition that I should give serious thought to possibly wanting children in the future. At the time, eight years ago, I barely had my shit together and there was no way I wanted to dump my life's issues on an innocent child of mine at some point in the future. Certainly my thoughts on that have changed, but at the time I was singularly focused on being 'complete'; ignoring that it could bite me in the ass later in life.

I remember one of my final consults before GCS and my surgeon had said if I suspended HRT for six months it might be 'possible' to allow for retrieving and preserving some of my 'sailors' (sperm), but I nixed that idea pretty quickly. I'd suffered long enough with dysphoria and not being complete, so getting that last bit reminder that I'd been born male gone was all I was concerned with.

Paying for GCS / SRS was difficult enough, and the cost to keep my potential future offspring in a cryopreservation facility was insanely expensive. Since I hadn't been concerned with that option, Brandy and I had to rely on a donor, and that was guilt and shame I had to bear. I had to accept I couldn't provide the other half of the equation for our future child. Not ideal in my mind, but it was the only way Brandy could be a mom and I would do anything to give that to her.

Good jobs, decent medical insurance through both our respective employers and we figured out a way to pay for the IVF opportunities. Now, with our recent loss I wasn't sure Brandy would ever consider trying again. The pain was still too raw, and we both were carrying our own suffocating guilt.

I met Brandy three years after GCS / SRS at a technical symposium put on by my company where we were demoing advanced aircraft structural tolerance certification equipment. According to her, she'd seen me from across the room and liked the dress I was wearing. She joined me and a Navy Vice Admiral going over some technical specifications, and I remember being nervous and distracted by her as I muddled my way through presenting some testing data for the admiral.

She was fully decked out in her Air Force fatigues, a Tech Sergeant at the time, and the admiral asked her for her opinion on what I'd just barfed up in regards to tolerances and ultrasound detection of stress fractures in air frames. Brandy confidently talked the Air Force's use of similar equipment, but told him she had actually come over to ask me out for a drink after I was off work. I was speechless, but would learn quickly enough that's just how Brandy operated -- boldly and with passion when she was interested in something or someone.

There was no pause, no consideration as to whether I might not be a lesbian or lean that way; she just knew what she wanted and went for it. I was able to find my tongue after a few failed babbles about needing to stay late and prep for tomorrow's presentations, while the admiral looked on amused, and but I eventually accepted the offer. The last thing the admiral had said to me before leaving us was that his XO would be in contact and the he wished me luck with Brandy, while smiling at her.

I'm positive my face was as red as the dress I was wearing.

Later that evening Brandy and I met in the hotel bar, and before we ordered our first drinks, I told her I was a Trans woman. I can't remember a time I had been that nervous waiting for someone's reaction to hearing that. While she might have looked a little surprised, she didn't hesitate to ask if that was going to be a problem for me because it wasn't for her.

"Well, no... I mean," I began to say and stopped speaking when she got up from her bar stool, came around to my side of the table, and kissed me! In a fairly crowded hotel bar! I could have been knocked over by the proverbial feather at that moment.

Dumbfounded, I could only stare at her as she returned to her bar stool, and after sitting she said, "Good to hear, because I like your energy and your vibe."

That night we talked for a couple hours, each having a couple drinks and sharing an appetizer. When the bar seemed to be getting more crowed and noisy she asked, "You want to get out of here?" I remember only being able to nod I was that nervous and still reeling a little from the earlier kiss.

I kept wondering how it was this beautiful woman wanted anything to do with me and how much I wanted her to kiss me again. When we left the bar there was no question about where we were going -- we ended up in her room that night and the next night as well. I had never had a sexual partner that made me feel as though my body was floating above the bed or as if I was having some kind of out-of-body experience, but Brandy had done that to me and so much more.

Brandy was the first woman I'd ever been with and she certainly opened my mind to the pleasures of sex that were possible as a woman.

Her conference, swagger, and energy sparked a two-year, long-distance, relationship. She was stationed at the time at a Travis Air Force base outside of Fairfield, CA, and I worked / lived in Chula Vista, CA. She asked me to marry her a year later while on a trip we'd taken to Maui. She finished out her six-year enlistment, she got out of the Air Force, moved in with me, and we were married three months later.

Brandy was my everything, my life, going on for four years this coming February, and I had resigned myself to try something I hadn't considered during our first IVF attempts to maybe spark some hope for a future family with her that had a genetic connection to me.

"Yeah," the disinterested voice on the line answered their phone with.

"Hey," I began nervously. "You have a minute?"

"Something new you want to lay on me?"

Kevin, my older brother by a year, had not taken my decision to transition very well, and his crazy 'Christ first' wife had given me both barrels when she found out. To say our relationship was strained would be an understatement, but I needed his support now and knew this was going to be a difficult and likely pointless ask.

"You heard we lost Jennifer; Michael said he'd told you," I began saying.

"Mmmuh, we prayed for the child," he replied still not interested in speaking with me.

"Thank you; we appreciate that. I'm, well, I... I was wondering if we could put aside your and Sherry's dislike for my life choices for a minute so maybe we could focus on Brandy's needs."

"Look, what you're calling 'dislike' falls short of everything we believe, Calvin, including your marriage to that woman," he replied.

Calvin was my 'dead name' and my brother knew full well I was Megan now and had been for over ten years, so he was sticking it to me by being an ass about not using my chosen name.

"It's Megan, and I didn't call to argue or fight with you, Kevin," I complained.

"Okay, so what is it you want? I need to go pick up Cece from gymnastics and don't have a lot of time to 'argue' either."

Good grief, he was being a fucking asshole! I needed to get something and hoped my niece Cece might give me some leeway.

"How's Cece? Did she get the tumbling mat we sent for her birthday?"

Her birthday was last month, and we hadn't heard a peep from them as to whether she got our gift.

"Yes, thanks. Look, what do you want?"

"Gotcha, all business, okay... Brandy is still not doing so well after we lost Jennifer. There is a lot of guilt, and some of that I carry pretty heavily because with IVF we had to use a donor. I would like our child to have some DNA linked to me, and..." I didn't get to finish my sentence.

"Yeah, that's not happening, Calvin. If you're asking if I would be your donor, the answer is No! And as far as DNA is concerned, do you see the irony in that? You think you're a woman now, and your DNA is all..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence this time, "Megan, my name is Megan, and if you won't or can't accept that, then there isn't anything more to say. You can believe what you want in your binary system belief of gender, but you're wrong, and that book you two cling to so tightly is nothing more than fiction written long ago by men who had no idea there was a whole world beyond their tiny homelands."

I didn't give my brother a chance to reply and hung up on him.

December 8th, 2:54 p.m.

"Meg's!"

I was already smiling before I answered my phone, seeing it was Michael, and I was smiling even more having gotten that greeting. He always called me Meg's, rarely Megan, since I transitioned. I think he even said he'd never called me by my full dead name and wasn't about to start now with my chosen name. It was all in fun; he'd slipped a few times over the years and had called me Megan, I loved that about him.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite younger brother," I replied.

"Huh? I'm your only younger brother! Unless you're telling me dad had some love child we don't know about," he said chuckling.

"Yeah, not saying that," I giggled. "To what do I owe this call? Wait, let me guess, Kevin called you."

There was more laughter on the other end of the line: "Partly that, but partly because I hadn't checked in on you in a couple weeks. Alisa called Brandy yesterday to see how she was doing, and I figured I owed you a call. How are you doing sis?"

"She said Alisa called. Thank her for that for me, will you? It means a lot to Brandy and to me too."

"I'll do that... So?"

"Day by day... Some are easier than others, but you see some little girl in a store or on TV in a commercial, and it makes you pause for a second. Sucks," and I stop speaking because it did suck and it sucked talking about it. I needed to change the subject. "How are the kids?"

"Growing! Jackson fights with Anna way more than any of us did at their age."

Jackson had just turned seven, and Anna was about to turn six. Michael and Alisa were pregnant three months after getting married, and were old hats at parenthood. They were the only family from my side who came to our wedding. No, Jesus, gender, Transgender, lesbian, or whatever issues with either of them, thankfully! It was refreshing, and I wished we lived closer and could see them more often.

"Kevin was the problem child, as I recall, but you made a pretty good run at dethroning him when you hit your teens," I countered.

"God, I hope to hell my kids aren't anything like me when they're older. Are you two still coming out this summer? Anna keeps asking about her 'aunties' coming out. I swear she thought you two were her fairy godmothers after you girls went to have pedicures."

"That really was a lot of fun; you should have come with us."

"Yeah, not my thing... Great pictures of you four in chairs with ladies at your feet, though."

"You don't know what you're missing."

"I think I do, actually. So, you hit Kevin up for his semen, eh? You are a brave, brave woman. That must have been awkward as fuck," he said with a little laugh.

"Not one of my more thought-out ideas, but yeah, I asked, and we chewed on each other about the usual topics, and I hung up on him," I explained.

"I got that from him; I think he was surprised by your ask though. Can I ask why? I mean, does Brandy want to try again?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I just feel like the variable of a donor may have, a...," I wasn't sure how to explain, so I just stopped speaking.

"It could have been your sperm, and there still could have been complications. You can't think that way, Meg's; it'll only get you more ugly to contend with. So, if she's interested in trying again and you're looking for a family donor, why didn't you ask me?"

"You got snipped last year, or was it the year before? I figured Kevin might be an easier source for what I was... It was a really stupid idea anyway," I finished sounding frustrated.

"You ever hear of TESE?" he asked.

"No, what's that?"

"TESE stands for Testicular Sperm Extraction, a less expensive and painful option to having a vasectomy reversed. Not like I'd be excited by the idea of some doctor jamming a needle into my boys, fishing around for 'sailors', but for you and Brandy, I'd be honored to help out, sis."

I was stunned and choked up, and the tears welling in my eyes made it impossible to reply.

After a few moments of silence, Michael asked softly, "I'm serious, Meg's."

"You'd do that for me," and I broke down crying.

"Hey, hey... Of course I would, but only for my favorite sister. Hell, it was Alisa's idea, and after I'd told her about Kevin treating you like shit, she did some research and found this to be a viable option with IVF. We're here for you both, you know that."

That last bit of love delivered only brought on more sobbing, and when I had calmed down enough, I thanked him and said I'd call Alisa to thank her when I thought I could speak without being an emotional wreck. We talked more about the specifics, and I said we'd pay for the procedure and subsequent storage costs until we were ready for another IVF try. Michael, being Michael, said he'd only do it if we accepted this as a gift. I'm sure he was kidding, but I cried some more and told him I loved him, Alisa, Jackson, and my favorite niece Anna.

"I love you too, Meg's. I'll let you know when we've got a couple gallons worth of 'sailors' for you," he said with a hardy laugh.

It was tough to not laugh through all the tears. I was buoyed by the hope, and of course, the love shown us by my younger, more accepting brother.

December 25th, 10:10 a.m.

Brandy, last week, finally got a spark of the holiday spirit. I'd come home from work to find her stringing lights on the garage, had made a pretty good effort at decorating inside the house, including the tree, which I'd setup and put lights on, but had left alone until she was ready to participate in getting our favorite ornaments on it. When I'd seen all she'd done, it sparked the want to talk that night, and we did that late into the evening.

While we ended our 'talk' feeling better, it didn't include any definite plans going forward, and she barely acknowledged the idea of trying IVF again. I hadn't mentioned Michael volunteering to be the donor the next try. Even without a decision to move forward it was a much-needed therapeutic cleansing given how we'd both been feeling the past couple months. IVF was left in a state of limbo last week.

Our bellies full this morning from the usual Christmas breakfast fare, both of us caffeinated and in our PJ's, and the couple's gifts that were under the tree now open, I gave Brandy a little hug and kiss.

"Okay, I know that look... We agreed on gifts and spending limits. What do you have up your sleeve?" she asked me, her perfect brows furled a little with suspicion, a smile on her face.

I nervously pulled a card from behind the throw pillow behind me and handed it to her.

"No pressure, but I want you to know what's in my heart and what I hope we can... Well, just read it."

It was her turn to look nervous, and I watched her open the card and begin reading.

Brandy,

You're my life, my love, and I remember every single day what you said to me in Maui when you asked me to marry you. You said, "I don't want to settle down; I want our love to be a collection of, 'Can you believe we did that?' moments."

These almost four years together have been exactly that--amazing moments that make me love you more every day. I didn't think I could love you any more than I did until you were pregnant...

I knew she hadn't gotten very far into what I'd written when she put the card in her lap, looked at me as if her world had shattered before saying, "I can't, Megan... I can't do that again; I can't live through losing," she couldn't finish her sentence before she broke down.

What followed were us hugging each other and crying together.

December 25th, 9:47 p.m.

The rest of Christmas day had been a mix of tension and sadness I had to hide my regret through. I'd pressed the idea we should try again, when I should have let the idea organically surface from Brandy. She'd eventually finished reading the rest of the card in its entirety.

Brandy,

You're my life, my love, and I remember every single day what you said to me in Maui before you asked me to marry you. You said, "I don't want to ever settle down; I want our love to be a collection of, 'Can you believe we did that?' moments."

These almost four years together have been exactly that--amazing moments that make me love you more every day. I didn't think I could love you any more than I did until you were pregnant and loved Jennifer with all your heart, being.

I had told you my regrets for not being a contributor to our wanting to be parents. But I've figured out a way to be more connected to our future child if you would consider trying again. I asked Michael to be the donor for a future IVF try. Alisa figured out how to make that happen and they both wanted to help us make having a child possible.

This could be our next 'Can you believe we did that?' moment. You are my life, and my heart is all yours. I would love nothing more than for you to have our child and be a mom.

I love you...

Megan

After reading the card in full she retreated to our room, wanting some time alone. It was hard for me to give her that space, but I did. Thankfully I had thing to do to prepare Christmas dinner and that kept my mind busy. I'd gotten a call from Michael, and he asked how it had gone, and I told him not so well. Alisa, in the background, with both kids howling and laughing about something, had said to give it time. I wasn't so sure the idea would ever be a possibility, no matter how much time passed.