I'm a woman who is a father. I'm a woman who is a husband. These are not things people are accustomed to dealing with.
First of all, let's get one thing straight. I am a woman. I was born with a penis, my body followed the typical development for male bodies, and more than likely, I have XY chromosomes. But I am a woman, and I always have been.
When I responded to the New York Times op-ed piece "My New Vagina Won't Make Me Happy", I was about 6 weeks away from having my own vaginoplasty. I'm now about 12 weeks post-op, and I have a different perspective now that I'm on the other side of surgery.
While I still have a long ways to go, to me it feels like I'm closer to my destination than I am to where I started.
The weeks following my first post-op visit started slowly, with me only able to move around within the apartment at first, then small trips to the grocery or pharmacy.
I'll be getting a bit more graphic in this post, discussing some of the more, er, bloody details. If you don't like blood and other by-products of surgery, you might want to skip this post.