Sorry I haven’t posted an update in a while.  I decided to cope with being pregnant by pushing all the transgender crap out of my mind as best I could.   As each day came and went without signs of a miscarriage, my heart started to hope that this unplanned pregnancy would bring my dream of being a mother of two to reality.  It felt like since the choice was out of my hands, that it was somehow my consolation prize for finding myself married to a man who wants to be a woman.  

And then a few days ago while on a family reunion trip, the spotting started.  Hours later the spotting became bleeding and the cramping also commenced. My best friend (since elementary school also traveled to the reunion) saw me come out of the bathroom and knew I was ill-equipped to handle the extended family sitting in our vacation living room.  She ushered me out the back door and told my husband and mom that I was going on a walk to have a good cry. And I did… I cried loudly.. I sobbed. Probably harder than i ever had before.  My third miscarriage in two years. My last chance to have my second baby lost. I saw the heartache that my despair caused her.  She said she was amazed at my strength…. I snapped at her.. What does it look like to not be strong? What does it look like to give up? Tell me. I want to be that!! 

This is too much. too too much for me. She doesn’t even know my husband is transgender. I almost told her. I wanted to tell her the gravity of my situation. But I couldn’t bring myself to be honest about my husband’s secret. I was so weak and so overwhelmed with grief. And selfishly, I wanted the sorrow my friend was feeling to be about the loss of this pregnancy. Not his stupid gender identity misappropriation. I could not put the burden on her… knowing my husband is a shame and then force her to continue the family reunion she volunteered to come on specifically to spend time with my four year old.  Besides, if she knew he was transgender she probably might think the miscarriage was a good thing.. which is gut wrenching just to type.
 
I’ve tried to process this loss… and wake up and go back to normal life. But the cramping stopped… the bleeding significantly lessened, and this is not how my body has dealt with my previous losses. I finally went to the Dr. and got my blood drawn today. She said it could be implantation bleeding.. that this could still be a viable pregnancy. She said she will call me back tomorrow to tell me my numbers.  If they are in a normal range for 6.5 weeks, that we will take more blood on Friday.  Of course, I think that this is a loss cause as I am still bleeding slightly (5 days). My husband thinks it is good news and I want to punch him in the face!  
 
I have come to realize that miscarriages are funerals attended only by the mother. Everyone else reads the obituary, sends flowers, cards, and their love. But it is I alone… sitting there enduring the loss, feeling the loss in my heart and body, impacted by the loss, consumed by the loss. Everyone else… are free to continue life as normal. But I am the one who forever feels the gaping holes caused by the death of these little lives.
 
He has not been present emotionally during my turmoil.. The only thing he asks is “how are you” and regardless of my response there is just a simple nod and the exchange is over….  He is not even helping with my daughter or even around the house. I am work full time and he can’t have the decency to help me as i am literally falling apart. I resent him. I cringed when he hugged me before leaving for work and I could feel his padded bralette press against my own chest which were still tender from the pregnancy hormones.  The nook at his shoulder I used to fall asleep in is now inundated by the push up padded bra he wears to bed making it now a voided place of solace. I can’t believe these things make him feel more like a women.

You know what makes me feel most like a women??  My bleeding loins and the devastation I feel throughout my core as my womb flushes itself of failure.

The only thing I can say that keeps me moving one foot in front of the other is my sweet child.  I know I need to fight to be there for her. To find happiness for her. But at the moment.. I just feel like I am stranded in a desert without water or direction. 

I have a meeting with my therapist tomorrow. I'm kinda overwhelm to talk with him. I haven't seen him in like 45 days and my life has had so many complications since. How could someone with a transgender husband have even more complications in such a short time! I didn't know how good I had it last time I had a pregnancy loss. At least then I had the husband I married instead of this introverted snide shell of a ghost.

Hmmm I'm gonna have to focus my thoughts and be mindful of the things I can control and adapt to those beyond my reach. 

I am sorry I have word vomited all this negativity. I generally try to have an even heart. But these last few weeks I have really struggled to remain in the light and get out of the bed each day with purpose.

Thank you...

Katie62 wrote:

I am sorry I have word vomited all this negativity. I generally try to have an even heart. But these last few weeks I have really struggled to remain in the light and get out of the bed each day with purpose.

Thank you...

We all have those kinds of days where just getting out of bed is a struggle and right now you are carrying a heavy burden. No one here will EVER ask you to not be so negative. We know how important it can be to let this out. Please keep moving to the light, please take care. We are all trying to do the best we can under our individual circumstances.
 

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Last edited by Duped (November 11, 2019 2:55 pm)

Katie,
   What you say about your "bleeding loins" being what makes you feel "like a woman" is a direct hit on the specific hurtfulness of the experience of those of us married to these males who suddenly decide they are women.  To them, it's all about surface stuff, makeup, clothes, hair, gestures, and yes, even surgery is surface, as their faux vaginas are merely a semblance of the real thing with no meaning beyond a place to be penetrated, as if penetration were a vagina's sole purpose, as if this surface stuff is what makes a woman. They're obsessed with that surface stuff, and at the same time they try to tell us THEY know what a woman is and they know they are one.  
    I know what it's like to have your husband's behaviors and attitudes strike at the core of your sense of yourself as a woman, and I grieve for you and with you that you are having to endure this insult while fearing the loss of your pregnancy.  They do not and cannot and never will understand what it is to be a woman, and their selfish, self-absorbed, self-centered and obsessive indulgence of their delusion would be laughable if it didn't hurt so much.