The Stained Glass Dream, The Next Chapter

Chapter Seven (Part one of two.)

Author’s note: I have had several people ask me if this story is autobiographical. This story is purely fictional, however the emotions are real and I do draw from past experience.

The next year went by without much ado. Occasionally I would have to face the usual criticism about how what I am doing is against God, Country, and an assault to family life as a whole. However, home was always exactly that, it was home. The hormones began their slow methodical work of changing my body. The first thing I noticed was the change in my thoughts. Sex was no longer the main issue that clouded my mind. Then the emotional mood swings began to happen. Some days it was all Amy could do just to remember that she was in love with me. I was learning how to be a woman. Not just in dress or appearance, but more on a deeper emotional side. I quickly found out just how complex it was to be a girl. I began to get little breast buds and my nipples got to be more sensitive. Then came the weight gain. I also found that the things I enjoyed started to be different. My eating habits, and the things I watched on TV. I really was becoming Jennifer, and James was slowly slipping away and felt to me to be another person all together.

One night when I was at home and just in a certain mood, I was in the office at our apartment listening to music. Amy came in and saw me in the arm chair. My thoughts were a thousand miles away, and I’m sure that the distance could be seen on my face. Amy said to me,

“Cupcake? You’re listening to country music? I don’t think I’ve heard you listening to county, it’s always been jazz music for you.”

“It’s true I don’t listen to it very often, but I do have a playlist for it. You see I grew listening to country music, and it seems that every song has a memory attached to it. It was a very lonely period in my childhood. The odd thing about it is that I didn’t  realize just how alone I was. To me, it was just the way things were. I remember my mother and I living alone in a small rented mobile home. My room was small and I  had a lot of stuff. So in order to make everything fit I put my stereo with the built in record player and eight track, in the closet. It’s funny, but I still remember those records spinning around inside the closet with the sliding door open. My mother was always working, I don’t hold that against her. She was only doing what a good mother would be doing; she was taking care of us. Still, most of my time was spent at home, and alone. I would put on a pair of panties, pantyhose, a bra with socks in it, and a big t-shirt substituting for a dress. That was how I was happiest.”

Amy came over and knelt down in front of my chair. This act was unusual for her because it is more of a submissive pose. She had one hand between her knees and the other she used to pick up my hand and thread her fingers through mine. Then she looked me full in the face,

“Jennifer, look at me. I swear as long as I’m alive, you will never be alone like that again.”

The depth of meaning in her words was so powerful, there was no doubting that she meant it. Why do I keep that grain of disbelief in the back of my mind? She has proved time and again that her words are genuine and that her love is real. I also know that most of the struggles in our relationship are instigated by me. It was then that Amy noticed a time-worn notebook on the desk. She asked me about it.

“So what’s in the notebook?”

“Oh, it’s just a few stories that I’ve tried to write over the years. I’ve been putting ideas down on paper since the ninth grade.”

Amy got up off the floor and sat down in my lap. “So, then you’re a writer? Actually I should have guessed that. How come you have never mentioned that?”

I laughed a little. “I would hardly call myself a writer. I just have this thing in my brain that wants to put stories down on paper. To be honest I haven’t written anything since Lucy and I got together.”

“Cupcake, what do you think a writer is? I think you should start writing again. Writers are very sexy, you know, and I would love to read them sometime.”

The thought of writing again was already on my mind. That was the reason I had dragged out the notebook. “Baby girl, I would love that. You could be my editor. That is if you like the stories and think there might be hope for my clumsy attempt at literature.”

“I’m sure that they are better than you are giving them credit for. You do have a tendency to sell yourself short.”

I laughed as I tried to give a little humor. “Oh, so now I’m selling myself short? You didn’t think I was so short this morning when I woke you up early.”

All of the sudden her facial expression changed. She looked me full in the face and used her fingers to push my hair back over one ear.

“Jenny girl, I have something I want to talk to you about. We have been trying to get me pregnant for a good year now. I think maybe we should try it without you being on the hormones.

This hit me like a ton of bricks. I waited several minutes before I said out loud my thoughts. “Amy, you know how important being on hormones is to me. You knew that I was transgender before we even started our relationship. Now you are asking me to invalidate the person I am striving to be?”

Amy leaned back away from me, but stayed on my lap. “Wait a minute, where is this coming from? I’m not asking you to go back to being a man. I’m only asking you to postpone a little bit of your transition so that we can have a baby, you can keep on being the girl that I love. Then once I am pregnant you can start the hormones again.”

I looked at her as I was trying to figure a way out of this. After all, I had promised her a baby before we even moved in together. I mean it’s one thing to talk about having a baby, but it’s a completely different thing in reality. So I tried to speak my feelings without sounding like I was backing out.

“Amy? Have you really thought about this? A baby is a huge responsibility. Besides, we’re not even married yet.”

Amy was getting frustrated by my augments. “As far as us getting married, I’m ready anytime you are. I’m in this relationship for the long haul but I’m starting to wonder if you are.”

That last thought took me by surprise. she really did not know that she was my entire world. Honestly, I guess the fault is completely mine. I’m so busy thinking everything through thoroughly  that there is no room for spontaneity.

“Amy, how can I tell you how much I love you? You are everything to me.”

“Then give me a baby. At least let’s give it a try before we reach the point that you can’t help me anymore.”

She was so tender and sincere that I had to give into what she was saying. “Okay baby girl, I will talk to the doctor tomorrow and find out the best way to do this. I know that I’m not supposed to stop taking hormones altogether.”

Amy kissed me and then glanced at my notebook again. “Now I want to read all those ideas that spill out of that imagination of yours.”

I don’t know how it is that I can be a writer, so creative, and still be so hesitant with life. Amy was so free and spontaneous that I envied her. She didn’t need a plan to start her day, she planned as went along.  I decided right then to take a page out of her playbook. I was going to ask her to marry me. However, I wanted to wait until just the right time. The tricky part was going to be buying the ring without her knowing about it. I devised a plan to take a day off from work and go ring shopping. This is the devious part of my plan. I would get up and pretend to go to work at the same as I always did. Amy would be at her job and I would be free to look for the ring in secret. now I just needed the perfect night.

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Tags: featured, fiction, Transgender

Category: Fiction