First off, Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s out there. It is great that a day is set aside to celebrate the Mother’s in our lives.
Mother’s Day has always been kind of bittersweet for me. I usually just suck it up and put on a smile for everyone. Deep down, the pain has always sat there. In some cruel joke, God or whatever malevolent force decided to put me in the wrong body. Oh I joke about it, how I missed maiden and mother and went straight to crone Yet, there is pain there as I can never be called Mother. My kids have a Mother and I’m not her. I have never had the experience of holding a life within me for nine months. Oh, I was given the brain for it, but deprived of the body. I think I would have made a great Mom. It wasn’t to be.
So what did that leave me? Oh yeah, I had Father’s Day. This was basically a non-event, if remembered at all. Most of the time, as the kids grew, I had to spend it at the ball field. I once mentioned that I would prefer to be able to take my kids somewhere and do something together, but instead I had to hang at the ball field. Mind you, I am not a big sports fan. I do like football and follow the Patriots. I also play golf, though haven’t been in a few years. I joke with people I used to play and tell them that now I can hit from the women’s tee. Of course, after I met Cindy, we usually had the family event on Father’s Day weekend. My daughter, wife, and mother-in-law all had birthdays around that date. So their birthdays were celebrated with little mention of Father’s Day other than maybe a card or such.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not bitter about not having the celebration of being a Father as Mother’s Day is elevated. I am just making a note of how Mother’s Day, the focus is on Mom. Father’s Day is secondary to baseball, softball, or other things. Frankly, like my birthday, I really don’t care much one way or another.
As a transgender person, Mother’s Day reminds me of what never was and what could never be. It also is a reminder that despite transitioning and getting my body to be in agreement with my mind, I can never, ever, take on that mantle. Hell, we struggle even defining who I am to others.
I went with my daughter to pick up her motorcycle. She just has a permit and would have to travel the highway back on a bike she was unfamiliar with. I went with her and rode it back to my house for her. On the way out there, we had the discussion about how to introduce me. Dad, would have outed me. I couldn’t be Mom because she has a Mom. So we settled on just Emma. This dance also gets played out with the whole idea of what to call a spouse. I think I touched on that issue before, so we will let it lie for now.
I have hope for the future generations. I have heard that a European hospital had done a successful uterine transplant. This was done on a cisgender woman and I believe she was even able to have a baby. It brings hope to others, that one day a transwoman will be able to have a transplant and actually be able to give birth and know the wonder of bringing a life into this world. For me, it reminds me that I am always a day late and a dollar short. I am too old now to have babies anyway, but it is good to know that others may one day.
So I give thanks to all the Mothers out there and hope you will enjoy your day. I know it can be a struggle to raise kids sometimes, but hopefully they brought you joy too. I love my kids and hope the best for them. I may never be able to be called their Mom, but I will always love them as fervently as any mother can.
My heart to your heart, one heart, one spirit.
“Lady” Emma Morgaine Croft