• Before becoming pregnant, I came out as nonbinary but didn't change much of my appearance.
• After giving birth, I felt detached from myself and knew I needed to make changes.
• Giving birth became the fuel I needed to start hormone replacement therapy finally.

My morning sickness began at six and a half weeks. I told others it was like having a monthslong stomach bug.

As I fought nausea while teaching lesson after lesson in my elementary classroom, I wondered if this would be the hardest part of being pregnant. Over the next eight months, I was lucky enough to have a medically uncomplicated journey, with every doctor's visit note filled with the word "unremarkable."

But as the nausea let up, I still felt off. I blamed it on the hormones when I couldn't bring myself to get dressed and go to important social events for friends and family. I did it again when I declined a free professional pregnancy photo shoot. As my bump grew and I began to receive the excited swell of compliments, I drifted farther from myself. Soon, I avoided all mirrors.

My pregnancy became the final straw, and I started gender-affirming care.

I had already come out as nonbinary

A few years prior, I had come out to my husband as transgender and nonbinary. He and I were raised in conservative Christian homes, but his response was instantly supportive and celebratory. Over the following year, I told my siblings and friends and received waves of encouragement.

Now that I was "out," there were so many gender-affirming things I theoretically wanted to do to my appearance, but, to me, they felt too large to comprehend.

I told a member of my support system, "I would love top surgery, but that sounds way too scary."

I decided I would just stick with sharing my pronouns. Eventually, I thought I would tell my workplace. I could still blend in and switch back to she/her when I felt unsafe. I told myself that I needed to pass as a cis woman.

Despite trying different hairstyles over the years, I had never quite felt like myself. Usually, a fun sweater I had thrifted or my floral Doc Martens would brighten my day.

Everything changed when I gave birth

Surprisingly, giving birth was amazing. Again, I was lucky and had a quick four-hour labor and delivery — free of complications. I instantly burst into emotional tears when I held my son for the first time. He was, and continues to be, one of the brightest lights in my life.

But 10 weeks postpartum, I began to notice I was entirely detached from my body. I did not want others to see me. I shied away from photos with my son. Every limb and piece of flesh felt separate from myself, just as it had in pregnancy.

When I stopped breastfeeding, it did not go away, and I began to panic that I wouldn't have the small presence I had enjoyed in my physical self again.

I found community and made some gender-affirming changes

My therapist, who is also nonbinary, encouraged me to find things that brought me joy. I decided to start with being social. I made plans for a handful of coffee dates with friends, including one with my husband, to see one of his friends I had met once before.

This friend had been an acquaintance, but this time, when we met at a café, he let me know that he was trans as well. We began texting, and he mentioned his own gender-affirming care, always stating he was open to questions from other members of the trans community.

So I asked: Do the T shots hurt? Is top surgery a hard recovery? Do any insurance companies cover it? How do you find trans community?

A few weeks later, I cut my hair. I had dreamed of a short haircut for over a decade but had told myself my face was not structured the right way. Instead, as I looked in the mirror at the salon, I smiled at myself for the first time in over a year. It was glorious.

My new friend began to invite me to queer events. I enjoyed styling my short hair. I bought a binder, new clothes, and began showing up in queer spaces. I heard poetry, danced to goth music, and engaged in deep discussions about parenthood and queerness with a stranger at a queer dive bar takeover.

A few weeks later, I began hormone replacement therapy.

Becoming a parent helped fuel my gender journey

I suddenly realized that I could love being a parent and transition, too. I could live for my son and myself.

Beginning gender-affirming care postpartum made my lost body into a home. I will never be thankful enough that, as I was drifting away from myself, I found community.

I am proud to be a transgender parent. It's an honor to raise my beautiful son with my husband and to fill his childhood with a lovely and gender-diverse community.

Transitioning postpartum has not only been a way of choosing myself, but showing up authentically makes me the parent my son needs.