What I didn't realize until this past winter, though, is that I would have the need to grieve the loss of my baby girl.
When my grandmother passed away this winter, I was left with a huge whole in my life and in my heart. For a few months, I cried every single day - often several times a day.
I am pragmatic and I believe that everyone has their time to leave us, along with the belief that lives should be celebrated - especially the lives of the elderly - rather than mourned. So, my long state of sadness concerned even me.
One day while looking over photos of Nanny with my kids, it struck me - the older photos contained a Dandelion that was no longer with me - long curls, pigtails, skirts and dresses, pink...lots of pink! Oh, what a beautiful little girl he played! And, then it hits me - my crying for Nanny was a catharsis to grieving the loss of my baby girl, too.
From the day that Dandelion voiced that she was, indeed, a he, I have been doing my best to handle it in a sensible manner - true to my British heritage. How can I facilitate this for him? What I can I do to make him feel confident and comfortable in his surroundings? in his own skin?
Maybe it was the *excitement* (oh, how I use this term so very loosely!) of the transition that didn't allow me the time to even think about any loss on my part. All I can say is that when I actually took the time to think about it, it hit me like a ton of bricks - my little girl is gone forever. I have a wonderful son, who I love not a bit less, but I've lost the little girl in the photos.
So, I took the time to grieve for her, and I feel better. As we pull out the summer clothes and I bag all the girl clothing that my eldest has grown out of that I will never see on her little sister, I know there will be a twinge. But, when that happens, I will remember the shopping trip that Dandelion and I just took to buy him summer clothes and how I was amused over his peculiarities when it comes to choosing clothing, and how I marvel at his unique sense of style and individuality.
Now the guilt hits...looking back and seeing all the signals that your child had tried to give you over the years before stating very matter of factly which gender they identify with. Ack!
Parental guilt is a blog for another day...and in the meantime, keep calm and carry on!
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