Not A Life Choice – Babies


Every now and then, the topic of babies comes up. This pretty girl is/was our Hermione. She was born with some issues. She had a malformed snout that prevented her from nursing from her mom. We had to bottle feed her every few hours. It was our hope that the good doctors at Cummings Veterinary Hospital could fix it for her so she could live a long and happy life. Unfortunately, as they were checking her out they found her heart was defective also. They said it could give out at any time since it was too malformed. So with heavy hearts, we had to let her go. 

What does this have to do with being transgender? 

Many transgender women have issues with not ever being able to carry a baby or experience giving birth. For many, seeing a pregnant woman serves as a reminder and causes some depression. I recall as a child pretending my belly had a baby in it. Even when I got older, having always had a bit of a pot, I would puff it out and make it jump and say did you see the baby kick? Yes, I knew there was no baby. It was the closest I would ever come.

I often get misty eyed when I see women on TV talking about getting or being pregnant. I feel jealous pangs over what could never be. I find when I go into transgender groups there are many others who feel the same way. With the recent work being done on uterine transplants, there could be hope for a breakthrough for future generations. 

This brings me back to Hermione. Due to us having to bottle feed her, I got attached. In some ways. she was my own child. Even now, the tears are welling up as I think that I will never have that baby up against my breasts as I gave her the bottle. I tried to explain it to my wife, but she just tells me that I had two kids and gave them bottles and changed their diapers. Yes, yes, I did. However, I never carried them. I never gave birth to them. I never had that experience and depressingly, never will. It is hard for someone who is not transgender to understand this. It is like you have had to live someone else’s life all these years. You feel cheated out of all the experiences that girls today take for granted. I think the one experience that hurts the most, is never having carried a child to birth. Hermione was my surrogate child. Yes, I was still just bottle feeding someone else’s baby, but I got to hold her close with her head resting on my breasts. I got to look down into her eyes. And now she is gone. 

We have been fortunate to have mostly healthy babies on the farm. It is rare that we have to bottle feed, though there are times we do it to get them started until the mom’s milk lets down. I hope that any future babies we have are healthy. I don’t think I could go through this again. Though, I know in my heart, I would. 

Still waiting on my surgery date. I was told it would be about a month after I met with the doctor. It is past that now and still no word. I am giving until the end of the week in case they sent it by mail. 

As I close, I am listening to the sounds from the barn and Hottie calling out for her baby. I can never relate to the pain she must be going through in losing a child. I know the hurt I feel and that is bad enough. 

I did not choose this life. It chose me. I am just trying to make the best of the cards that life tossed at me. I am just trying to be a light for another so they don’t have to walk in darkness. 


My heart to your heart, one heart, one spirit!
Emma Morgaine Croft


About Emma Morgaine Croft

I have been called many things on my journey, Professor, White Wolf, Rainbow Warrior and Spirit Walker. I had a blog on for a number of years. I think the last post was when Papa passed back in 2012. I had also written for World Wide Hippies online mag for a year or so and even won a Golden Note for online writing. I got burned out writing and decided to stop for a bit. The only writing I did was comments on things I shared on Facebook. Unfortunately, that often got into a lot of angry and ugly talk. I try to maintain my cool, but there are just some unreasonable people out there. I found it emotionally and spiritually draining. I saw my niece's blog on here and thought that maybe it was time to resurrect Thoughts On A Cloudy Day. These are my thoughts and meanderings. You can accept them or walk away. I hope that in some way, these thoughts can spark other thoughts and sharing by people around the world. My dream is to make the world a better place for all people. My heart to your heart, one hear, one spirit.
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3 Responses to Not A Life Choice – Babies

  1. Emma Gray says:

    Hi Emma, my name is also Emma, and I’m also a transgender woman. I agree that we didn’t choose to be trans, we just are. But I much prefer my life over being a cis man. I do wish I’d been born female for all the same reasons as you but, as we both know, we are what we are.

    I have my surgery date: 1/31/19. I’ll be having GCS and breast augmentation at the same time. I’m looking forward to it but I’m also not in a rush as I appreciate having time to consider my choices, such as: how large do I wish my breasts to be (answer: C cup) and whether or not I want vaginoplasty (answer: yes). I’m not sure what other questions I need to have answers for; I don’t know what I don’t know.

    I don’t experience gender dysphoria when I see pregnant women. I do get it from time to time I when I’m around cis women and teenagers. At those times I feel like an interloper, an imposter. It all comes from within me; everyone treats me very nicely as the friendly woman that I am. But still…

    I feel best around myself when I stand tall with my chest forward, walking with poise and purpose, smiling and confident. Other women pick up on this and return my smiles. It’s a warm sisterhood we share that I never experienced as a male. I gain a lot from this, like earlier today I talked with a woman clerk at a spice shop for a half hour about our childhoods, our children, and our plans for Labor Day weekend. It’s not as if I pass flawlessly, I don’t. I have no idea if she recognized me as trans or not. That didn’t matter. We were just two women chatting, she’s 70 and I’m 62, sharing a little warm camaraderie.

    Anyway, I also agree that we have to play the cards we’re dealt as best we can. I wish you well in your journey.


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