Crazy Mama Llama: Use Your Words: Story Of A Boy

On January 3, 2009, I found out I was pregnant.

Immediately, I envisioned a little girl with blue eyes, curly hair and a pearly white smile. I just knew I was going to have a little girl. I called my little bundle of joy my little ladybug. My suspicions were confirmed around April when the ultrasound tech informed us that my little ladybug was a female.

As a baby, she was in everything pink. She was soft and girly and just all around perfect. Big bows, tutus and polka dots.

As soon as she could walk, she had an opinion on what kind of clothes she should wear. It was usually something pink or her brother's clothes.

Through the years, she went from dressing girly to dressing for comfort, which was usually stretchy leggings or shorts and a hoodie. She started to ask when she was getting a mustache like Daddy and wanted to be a "bro" like her brother.

In the past couple of years, she started to opt more for things kind of....boyish. Instead of asking for Barbies and dolls, she wanted WWE figures and Hot Wheels. Going out in public was less about looking cute and more about looking like a boy. If we were doing something were the girls did one thing and the boys did another, she wanted to do what the boys did. The mere thought of being called a girl or having any talks about things to come just really pushed her over the edge. Tears would fall like waterfalls and she would lash out.

Late last year, she requested new clothes.

These clothes had to come from the boy's section.

She requested we call stop using she/her/hers pronouns and start using they/them/theirs instead. They wanted a hat to cover their hair so people wouldn't know if they were male or female.

In March, they cut their long, curly hair off.

They were gender fluid.

In May, we went on a cruise. They were pulled up on stage during the welcome show and the cruise director named Leon called them Caleb instead of Cailin and referred to them as male. Through the whole cruise, it was "sir" and "he" and all male pronouns. This kid was absolutely thrilled.

After that, they were completely against all things girl. They lashed out, were angry all the time, crying and just not themselves.
They were so angry!

So we sat them down and asked "What is wrong and what can we do?"
Through tears, they said "Mommy...daddy...I'm not a girl. I don't want to be a girl. I know I have girl parts, but I'm not a girl. I want to be a boy! I don't want to be Cailin, at all. I want to be Caleb all the time!"
My child, my sweet, 10 year old baby, was coming out to us as transgender and seemed terrified.
In that moment, my heart broke because my baby girl was no longer. My heart broke because my baby was in pain. And my heart filled because my baby was finding his voice, his comfort zone. He was making it know that he was ready to live his authentic life.

10 years ago, my husband and I gave birth to a transgender child. For 10 years, our child lived as a girl, whether he wanted to or not. Now, we have another son. Our Cailin is now Caleb.

I only wish I could be that brave.

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words were "pearly ~ soft ~ stretchy ~ public ~ water" and they were submitted by On the Border. Thank you! It was a challenge to use these in this post.

Click the links below to see what my friends wrote about!

Baking In A Tornado

Wandering Web Designer

Climaxed

Part-time Working Hockey Mom