Why I Can Support Breastfeeding Women

Update, May 2016: LLL changed its policy about the eligibility of Leader Applicants in 2014 to be inclusive of transgender people. Trevor became accredited as a Leader in May, 2016.

In the past few days, some have mentioned they are concerned that women would not feel comfortable seeking breastfeeding advice from a man, or even attending a meeting when a man is present. Fortunately, I have not personally encountered anything like this at my local La Leche League meetings. I have attended a number of meetings together with brand-new, first-time moms, and these moms have shared openly at meetings and returned to meetings. I believe that a man who breastfeeds is perceived very differently from a man who does not.

What those of us who attend meetings have in common is that we want to breastfeed our kids. Early in my pregnancy, I did tons of reading about breastfeeding, and one thing that came up over and over again was this: a huge predictor of whether or not you will succeed in breastfeeding as long as you want to is if you have good community, peer support. I used to read that and say to myself, "Except for me. I don't count." When I did in fact get to go to an LLL meeting before my baby was born, I was incredibly grateful. I walked into the meeting shaking with nerves. I could barely speak when it was my turn to introduce myself and I explained my unique situation. I was terrified of what people would think of me and how they would react. I looked up at a certain point and realized that the women there were smiling at me and nodding their heads as they listened to me.

When we talk about experiences of oppression and fear, I feel that I have those in common with breastfeeding women. I was yelled at by a WOMAN for breastfeeding my baby in public - she said I was ruining my child. I spoke calmly to her at the time but cried for quite a while after it was over, feeling terrible. I get stared at when I breastfeed. There are some places where I don't breastfeed because it simply isn't safe. As a transgender guy nursing in public, I am not exactly in a position of power over others. I believe that any woman who learns in 30 seconds or so that I breastfeed my baby (and of course, having breastfed is a requirement for being a volunteer leader) will know that I have been through the same grief as any other breastfeeding person.

Men who have never breastfed have not experienced firsthand what breastfeeding parents have. Similarly, if a bunch of judgemental female OB's showed up at an LLL meeting, the breastfeeding women would probably not feel comfortable. In our chapter, when a non-breastfeeding medical professional wants to attend a meeting, she must gain special permission and she is asked not to contribute to discussion. I believe this whole issue is not simply about sex or gender, but about the common experience of breastfeeding, which in our society seems unfortunately to have a lot to do with oppression.

I try to keep my attitude in life, as well as my writing, positive. On the whole, our family has received FAR more support and well-wishes than any other kind of comment (I'm talking about personal emails, Facebook messages, and blog comments - I never read comments on news articles). However, I don't think that anyone breastfeeding in public in North America today can do so without at least a hint of fear or doubt, and I am certainly no exception. This is why we need La Leche League - a safe space to share accurate, science-based information about breastfeeding without judgement.

My Queer Conversation With a Ninety-Year-Old

A conversation I had today reminded me yet again that age is not necessarily a good predictor of open-mindedness and compassion.

First, a bit of background. I met Luanne, a ninety-year-old woman, through a friend. This summer I am planting and maintaining Luanne's large vegetable garden and flower beds along with another friend of mine, Ana.

Today it was just me and my little boy, Jacob, weeding at the garden. Luanne opened her back door to say hello. I chatted with her for a few minutes and we both enjoyed watching Jacob crawling on the lawn. And then came the question: "Who is the baby's mother? Is it Ana?"

"No, he's my baby. Ana is my friend."

'"But who is his mother?"

"Ummm, well, my partner... well, we're a gay couple." I blurted it out and then looked at her, waiting.

"Gaaaaaaay...?"

"Yes."

"You mean, your wife is a man?"

"Yessss..." Close enough.

"So where did you get the baby from?"

I'd really been hoping she'd stop at gay. I couldn't bring myself to lie to her either though. "That's a bit complicated." I hesitated.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind my asking. It's not too personal, is it?"

"I hope you don't mind hearing the answer." I paused and looked at her. She looked back inquisitively. Ok, fine. "I'm transgender. I was born female but I transitioned to male. Have you heard of that before Luanne?"

"Well, on TV, yes, I suppose so."

"Ok, so, I took testosterone to transition, and had a chest surgery. But when my partner and I got together we decided we'd really like to have a family. We thought about adopting, but realized it might take a very long time. So, I talked to my doctors about it and asked if it would be safe for me to carry a child [I always emphasize the doctor/safety part of the story, especially around potential skeptics], and they said to stop taking the testosterone and it should be fine. I got pregnant, and had the baby. He's our biological child."

"Oh, wow, I've never heard of such a thing."

"It's a bit unusual, isn't it?"

"Well, as long as you have a baby, that's what's important."

I left the breastfeeding and milk sharing discussion for another time... And then we went back to talking about the geraniums. She didn't want white ones after all because they apparently turn brown when they get rained on. Too bad Ana probably already bought them this morning, following yesterday's instructions.

If Luanne, at ninety, born in 1922, can get all this, and simply be happy that we have a baby (and that we've pulled out an awful lot of grass and dandelions the last few days), what is anybody else's excuse?

Happy M/Other's Day

I wrote an essay for Out.com about what it is like to have given birth but not be a mother. Happy M/Other's Day everyone!

One Step Forward For Human Rights

A momentous decision for transgender people has come out of Ontario today: the Ontario Human Rights Tribunal has ordered the provincial government to amend its legal requirement for sex designation change within 180 days. Currently, Ontario's Vital Statistics Act stipulates that a trans person must undergo sex reassignment surgery before his/her gender marker can be changed. The human rights tribunal declared this to be discriminatory.

Today's decision is huge for transgender people across the country, including myself. I transitioned from female to male by taking testosterone and having a chest surgery. I have a beard and my voice is deep - no stranger on the street would ever think that I am anything other than a regular guy. But since I have not had a complete ovariohysterectomy (or in veterinary language, a spaying), I am legally female. My driver's license has an F on it, and my passport blares FEMALE in giant print. When we applied for Jacob's birth certificate, we had to check off the "mother" box for me, and then we attached an essay in explanation.

Your birth certificate is the go-to document that must be used to apply for passports or to make changes to any other document. I am required to out myself as transgender every time I present my ID or other legal documents.

So why didn't I just get bottom surgery? Well, it is hugely expensive, rather risky, and involves a long recovery. And... I would not have the family I do now if I had removed my female organs. I live happily and comfortably as male, and what is between my legs is nobody's business besides my partner and my doctor.

Sometimes the discrepancy between my appearance and my documents is just an annoyance and a hassle, but in other situations it is a matter of personal safety. Two years ago Ian and I traveled to India and Nepal - every time I showed my passport to board a plane or even apply for a park pass, I worried that someone would notice the word FEMALE. In those countries, could I be harassed by police or customs officials? Could I be detained? Before we left for our trip, my doctor wrote me a note of explanation, and that's all we had to depend upon. Luckily, my fears were never realized and I am grateful.

It is my hope that the tribunal's decision will quickly help to change regulations in other provinces as well as at the federal level. I know I will breathe a great sigh of relief on the day when my legal documents finally match my gender identity. I look forward to being recognized by my government as my son's Dad.

Hormones!

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Many of us have heard before about the importance of hormones during childbirth and breastfeeding. Natural oxytocin, together with other hormones in a "love cocktail", can help you transcend the pain often associated with labour and then assist you in falling head over heels for, and breastfeeding, your baby. I am lucky enough to have had the pleasure of listening, live, to the renowned obstetrician Michel Odent speak in his lovely French accent about “ze luuuuuve coq-tail-uh”. It’s enough to make even the most prudish gay man swoon. You, too, can enjoy Mr. Odent by watching him on YouTube here.

Dr. Michel Odent

But my own hormones cause people a little confusion sometimes, so with this post I’ll attempt to clear things up. “How do you know that this is safe for your baby, what with all those hormones you’re taking?” Number one most common misconception about a transgender pregnancy: people tend to assume that I continued to take testosterone while carrying the baby.

I can see how someone might think this. After all, my voice remained low, and I continued to grow facial hair, and these are (wonderfully for me) masculine traits. However, once testosterone thickened my vocal chords, ceasing injecting it into myself could never thin them. This is why male to female transsexuals often spend much time and energy learning how to speak in a higher-pitched, female voice - it is not easy to sound feminine once they have gone through a biologically male puberty (and, for the record, it's actually all way more complicated than I'm making it seem, so if you like you can read up on it here). Again, after testosterone use had developed new hair follicles on my face, nothing but electrolysis could permanently remove my beard, as female to male transsexuals unfortunately know all too well. As an aside, this is a large part of the argument in favour of providing transgender teens with hormone blockers to delay the onset of puberty - as a trans kid, once puberty hits, it’s like you’ve boarded a fast-moving express train with zero stops to a country you have no desire to visit. Oh, right, and there is NO train that can take you back unless you practically build the tracks (and train) yourself.

On the other hand, testosterone leaves the bloodstream and tissues within ten days, said my endocrinologist. We consulted with him about the idea of trying to conceive, and he paused for a few minutes, looking thoughtful. Then he said, “well, just stop taking the testosterone, and wait for your cycles to return to normal. When they do, you’ll know that you are ready to try. The eggs should still be there…. I can’t see any problem. If I think of anything else, I’ll get back to you.” He never did.

Within two weeks of my last testosterone injection, I got a period. My cycles were immediately regular, even to the time of day, but we waited through four or five of them before trying. We got pregnant on the first attempt, and the entire pregnancy was utterly normal and healthy, as is our child.

I haven’t started taking testosterone again yet because it would seriously inhibit the hormones that affect breastfeeding, plus we haven’t decided for the time being if we’d like to have more kids. Gotta learn how to take care of this 11 month old little ball of energy first!

The First Pregnant Man

I just finished reading Thomas Beatie's Labour of Love: The Story of One Man's Extraordinary Pregnancy. I read most of it overnight because my poor little guy was nursing constantly due to a cold. The book is not terribly well-written but I was curious to hear about the social and media aspects of his pregnancy. The main question I've come away with is this: why did Beatie and his wife have such a rough time while my family has been met almost entirely with understanding and generosity?

Beatie with his wife and child: a happy family.

One possible answer is that Beatie was a trail blazer for us. Although I'm sure other trans guys have gone through pregnancy and birth before, Beatie was the first to go public with it. He appeared on Oprah at around the same time that I announced my own intention to transition to my family, friends and colleagues. Maybe everyone we've come into contact with had already heard of Beatie and so felt a little more comfortable with the idea of a pregnant transgender guy. Possibly, but I doubt that this explains all of it.

Beatie lives in a small town and we live in a small city. This might help us I suppose. Is Canada just far more tolerant than the US in general? Do our health care providers get better LGBT training? For one thing, we didn't require any medical assistance to get pregnant while Beatie did. But still, my family doctor's reaction to our pregnancy was simple: "well, it's very natural to want to have a family. Make sure you take folic acid. See you later alligator." Our midwives prioritized us because they thought the continuity of care they could provide would be helpful.

Beatie says in his book that he went public with his story because it would have been impossible for a guy to hide a pregnancy. Well, we did. Kind of. Friends and family and colleagues knew because we told them. Our neighbours didn't have a clue until we introduced them to our two week old baby. I don't think strangers ever really gave me a second glance. Or if they did they were too polite to ever say anything. I wore somewhat baggy sweaters and that took care of things.

I was deeply saddened to read about how Beatie was denied medical care on numerous occasions, laughed at by nurses, and rejected by members of his family and community. I don't know why exactly my family has been so lucky but I am incredibly grateful for the sheer joy expressed by our baby's grandparents, the squeals of delight offered by our next door neighbours when they finally found out, the oodles of gifts flung at us from friends and even casual acquaintances, and of course the thousands of ounces of breast milk donated to our baby by close to twenty generous women. Happy New Year everyone.