I had some powerful conversations this week.
In several cases, these conversations started about Lee. We have specific, important, weighty parenting decisions coming up because Lee happens to be transgender. Right now, we are one hundred percent comfortable with the choices we’ve made. He’s a boy. He’s living his life as a boy. Medically, we haven’t done anything irreversible. He’s taking hormone blockers to delay puberty, but in order to “get our little girl back,” we would just have to change his clothes and let his hair grow and stop giving him the medication. Early in this journey, I took some solace in that. Like we were leaving our options open. But now, it feels like a betrayal. It feels like I’m minimizing him; reducing his very identity as if it’s just a childish phase. If you have been on this journey with us, you’ve seen it. It’s not a phase. We have a happy, healthy, whole child. Why on Earth would I want to change that?
But you can only delay puberty for so long. At some point, we’ll have to take him off the puberty blockers. And at that point, there are only two choices. Option A is to do nothing. Let him develop female secondary sex characteristics. Of course, I can’t be sure how he’d respond to this, but I can make a reasonable prediction. Knowing my kid, having been on this journey with him, having talked to other parents and read lots of books and consulted medical and psychiatric professionals, I anticipate that would lead to overwhelming dysphoria, suicidal ideation, and a destroyed relationship with my child. At the very least, he’d go back to being the unpredictable, depressed, self-loathing ‘girl’ he was before he transitioned. So really, Option A isn’t much of an option at all. Option B is to administer testosterone. We can chemically manipulate his body to develop male secondary sex characteristics. Irreversible changes will occur; deepening voice, body hair, facial hair, broad shoulders, square jawline, male musculature. He’ll be physically and psychologically healthy. He’ll still love himself. But he’ll lose his fertility. He’ll never be able to have biological children.
How do I make decisions about my 12 year old’s future fertility? Those are not my choices. They’re HIS choices. And of course, people will say he’s only twelve. He’s not capable of deciding what he’ll want when he’s an adult. Right? Right?
But we can’t wait until he’s an adult. Do I risk my child’s potential teenage suicide to preserve his ability to biologically reproduce later in life? Am I projecting my own values on him? My own fears?
Here’s a secret. I’m crying while I write this. It’s terrifying. It’s huge. It’s sad. It’s scary. How can we make these decisions? As parents, how do we navigate this?
I can’t begin to tell you how often I hear a variation of, “God gave these children to YOU for a reason.”
I don’t believe that parents of LGBTQ kids are especially equipped to handle these kids. I read stories of children who have been disowned by their parents, attacked by their families, shunned by their church communities… and my heart cracks open. I don’t doubt that God has a divine plan, and I do believe that terrible things can be the catalyst for amazing good. But I also can’t subscribe to the notion that God only gives LGBTQ kids to parents who are particularly suited to parent them.
But. And. Also…
I do think that some families, some parents, some churches, create environments where kids are allowed and encouraged to be exactly who God made them to be.
I’m pretty confident that we’re going to start our son on testosterone when the time comes. Honestly, a conversation about hormone therapy isn’t comfortable for me with anyone other than my husband, Lee’s doctors, and other parents who have been through it. I’m not looking for input or advice or sympathy. Of course, ‘Adult Lee’ would actually the best person to make decisions about his body. But until he’s an adult, he needs a grown person to use reason and research and love to make the best possible decision, given the information and options available. Nobody knows this child better than his parents. Nobody loves our child more than we do. Nobody wants him to be happy and healthy more than we do. So that makes US the adults best equipped to make the tough choices. When it’s time to decide, it’ll be our family’s decision, and not open for debate.
I’m not writing this to gather suggestions or seek opinions or solicit advice. I’m writing this because it’s part of a bigger question. The question that has come up over and over again for me in recent weeks is this: What is my job as a parent?
Following a few conversations, I wondered what the Bible has to say about the topic. After a quick search, it didn’t really come as a surprise that most references to children (in the Old Testament especially) refer to punishing your kids. “Spare the rod, spoil the child,” type stuff.
I looked through my Google search results, and one word kept popping out over and over and over again. Discipline.
My son, do not despise the Lord’s discipline or be weary of his reproof, for the Lord reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights.
The rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child left to himself brings shame to his mother.
Discipline your son, and he will give you rest; he will give delight to your heart.
Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him.
Discipline your son, for there is hope; do not set your heart on putting him to death.
And as I read these verses (all from the book of Proverbs), I heard my husband’s voice. I heard a man’s voice. A man who loves his children deeply, and believes that his primary role as a parent is to discipline them.
But in that moment, as in so many others, I wished that I could turn to my holy book and hear a voice like mine. A woman’s voice. A mother’s voice.
The closest is the voice of Jesus himself, in the book of Mark. “And they were bringing children to him that he might touch them, and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, ‘Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.’ And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.”
This voice connects. This voice resonates with me. Jesus appreciates the children for who they are, for what they bring. He honors them just as they are; not for what they could be or might be. He doesn’t discipline them or try to change them. He just loves them.
It is our job to love these children as Jesus loves them. To celebrate them and welcome them and help them to grow into the best possible version of who God created them to be. God has given us artists and writers, musicians, pastors, and politicians. He has given us funny little people. Or serious ones. He has given us stubborn people, witty people, shy people, adventurous people, caring people, creative people. But he has given us PEOPLE. They aren’t blank slates. They aren’t empty vessels for us to fill. They are WHOLE PEOPLE. They have gifts and passions. They have identities and talents and personalities.
I believe that our children have been created beautifully, uniquely, and perfectly by God. God has molded them. Who are we to try to bend them, twist them, contort them into a mold of our own design?
Don’t get me wrong. Discipline is important. But in my mind, discipline is something we TEACH our children, not something we DO to them. I want my children to have discipline, not just receive discipline.
I believe it is my job to TEACH my children. I am tasked with teaching my children love and respect. I need to teach them how to treat others. I need to teach them life skills and manners and kindness. I need to teach them how to respect others and how to behave in a way that will earn respect in return. I am given the responsibility of instilling values and teaching them how to behave in accordance with those values.
Of course, we need to teach them how to behave. But there’s a difference between trying to teach our children and trying to change them.
Our attempts to change who they are will be fruitless. No matter how much you believe that your bookworm needs to play football, you can’t turn him into a natural athlete by sheer force of will. Anyone who has ever tried to get a reluctant reader to happily curl up with a book on a sunny afternoon will understand the futility of trying to change WHO our children are. Can you manipulate behavior? Sure. You can make your kid sit and read for an hour. But you can’t make him enjoy it.
You can get your child to take swimming lessons, but you can’t make him love the water. You can prohibit your daughter from dating girls, but you can’t control who she’s crushing on. You can make your son wear dresses and long hair, but you can’t change who he is on the inside.
My children were given to me, entrusted to me, by a God who already made them perfectly. Their energy, their athleticism, their musical or artistic talent… those things are already in them. Their enthusiasm, their love of animals, their sense of humor… I would never dream of taking those away from them.
In the same way, I can’t fathom a desire to change their sexuality or their gender or their infinite capacity for love.
My children show me who they are each day. They are growing and learning and ever-changing.
So what’s my job as a parent?
My Bible tells me my job is to teach them, to discipline them, to “train them up in the way they should go.”
My heart tells me it’s to help them become the best version of themselves, just as God created them.
But as usual, the most powerful message comes from Jesus himself. What do I need to do?
Love them.
It’s that simple.
The first time we spent a long weekend at Lake Chateaugay, Cal was an infant, Lee was three, and college was still fresh in my memory.
This year, we went up for a four-day weekend, and during our time there, I couldn’t help but reflect. The house has transformed along with our family. The big room we stayed in our first year is now the master bedroom. It has bay windows and carpeting and the scientific paraphernalia is long gone. The dark room is a laundry room, and the incubators have been replaced with bunk beds and a pool table. The old pontoon has been replaced with a bigger, better boat. Other new additions include a deck, a lean-to, a kayak, and a dishwasher. The screened in porch is now a finished room, with an outside wall of windows and the most spectacular view you can imagine.
