My Sweet Baby Boy
It’s funny how no one seems to be able to recognize that we all change as our brains fully develop. In my early twenties, I decided I would be okay not having children, but as I reached my late twenties, my priorities shifted. Although I was not able to get pregnant traditionally, I was very fortunate to be blessed with a baby boy. I have never felt such immediate love at any time in my life. I knew I would do everything I could to protect my child from the world and to help him live a happy life. My son changed my life in ways I never thought possible.
My son was never the typical athletic boy. He was interested in how things worked, how plants grew and anything science based. He worried about the world and what would happen if people kept throwing trash away. He was clumsy and awkward (we didn’t find out until much later that this was related to a genetic condition that I was diagnosed with and passed on to him).
My son loved to make blueprints for machines he was going to invent. He loved to learn languages and would do so when we travelled by speaking to people that didn’t speak English. He was well behaved, with wonderful manners that evoked praise from friends and strangers alike. He had this amazing imagination and I would nurture this with him. We used to build forts and pretend. We would make things out of household items. We did puppet shows and performed for family members.
My sweet, caring, sensitive, funny, intelligent and charismatic little boy went off to junior kindergarten at the age of 3. Shortly after starting school, I received a call saying that my son was hugging other children too much. Despite the school’s reprimand, my son continued to be kind and caring to strangers, adults, teenagers, and children his own age. Everyone would remark about how special he was and would really listen to him.
After the hugging incident, my husband wanted to take him out of school and home school him. I wish I could go back in time and do exactly that because, in the end, my caring, loving and sensitive son was relentlessly bullied at school, and the school did nothing to stop it. This school system used “Progressive Discipline” as a misguided way of addressing bullying and it was entirely ineffective. Although I stood up for my son on numerous occasions as he was bullied by other students, the school never really stepped in. My son experienced so much bullying, that he developed anxiety and depression. We sought counseling and programs to assist him. We met with school staff and worked on ways to help him but ultimately none of these efforts were successful.
I’m sure that someone will try to say that there were signs that my son would become trans-identified, based on what I have said so far. Those people would be wrong. You cannot know my son from your short interactions with my son or your observations from afar. I have some very amazing memories of my son up until the gender ideology took over. But once it did, he became a stranger.
Gender ideology is the biggest bully of them all. I have had to deal with a lot of difficult things in my life, but I never imagined fighting this fight.
I’m sure that there are other parents that can relate to this feeling. When my son told me he was transgender, very suddenly just over a year and a half ago, it came out of nowhere. He’s now on a fast track to sterilization, mutilation and never being able to have a sexual experience. The risks of taking hormones are absolutely frightening, but our government will cover these expenses without question. When I tried to reach out to the gender clinic treating him, I was told that, if I contacted them again, they would contact the police. The first message sent to me went to my junk folder. When I reached out a second time, expressing my concern that our family medical history had not been shared with them, I was met with the same response. How is this medical care? My son could die of a serious heart condition that he was unaware of when he shared his limited knowledge of our family medical history.
I think what no one is talking about is what this is doing to families, specifically mothers. I can tell you that I have contemplated ending my own life, and the various options to choose from (for example I wouldn’t slit my wrists because it would hurt too much, but taking pills seems like a sensible way and the least messy for whoever finds me).
I will not follow through because I care too much about those around me. I would not want to hurt my family. I would not want to leave my husband and son. Who would help them through this nightmare we are living right now? You get the point I’m making though—this situation is truly as painful as it gets for me. I am completely shattered and often see no point in living.
I will keep going and fighting as much as I can. If I give up, who’s going to save my son from this? I go through most days feeling absolutely defeated. I feel useless and judged in my ability to parent my own child. I know in my heart that my son is not transgender. There is a very good possibility that he is on the autism spectrum.
My circle of friends has grown smaller. I do have some people who seem to be supportive, but I fear that they do not understand how serious this is. Their children are not immune to the gender ideology being taught in schools. Those who choose to ignore me or judge me are not the people I want in my life.
I’m sure there are many more people out there who feel this is complete madness and would like to speak out about it. They are afraid of the repercussions, of losing their jobs, of being targeted, of being labeled transphobic or bigoted.
As my son digs his heels in and dives head first into the shallow water filled with rocks, I continue to fight to stop this experimentation on children—and I continue to feel a loneliness I never thought possible. I will try to keep a relationship going with the stranger that used to be my son. I will cling to the hope that he doesn’t experience lifelong medical problems as a result of taking a medication I was advised against taking due to complications of cancer and blood clots (HRT during menopause).
To the people that say he’s an adult at 18, I ask you two questions: When in the history of medicine has anyone been able to self diagnose? Why are we allowing children and youth to make irreversible life decisions before their brain has fully developed? A friend of mine said, “We have become so open-minded, our brains have fallen out.” I sure hope the medical field sees the damage being done before it’s too late for our children.