After we get home, I wait until 7 that evening to call my father. We awkwardly talk for a few minutes, then I finally ask him, and he flatly denies my request. I more than half expected his response, so I merely sigh after I end the call. Turning to look at Mom, I can see that she already knows. She takes me in her arms and hugs me tightly. “It’s alright. We already have a plan in place for this.”
I merely nod against her shoulder.
Later that night, Megan quietly knocks on the door and comes in. Closing the door behind her, she comes over, crawls under the covers with me, and snuggles close. “Are you scared?” She asks.
“Nuh-uh. Nervous, and more than ready for this to be over with already, but I’m not afraid. This is the last step, and I’ll finally be the me who I always should have been.”
The next day, I have a follow-up appointment with Doctor Roberts. It’s not for anything much, simply a conversation about what Doctor Nowak said, and afterward, we proceed to the lab for both Mom and I to have our blood drawn.
A few days later, we go back in to see her, she gives me the injection, and tells me, “You’ll likely feel quite ill for a few days and run a fever. So, rest, drink lots of fluids, and take ibuprofen to keep your temperature down. I’m also giving you a prescription for sedatives to help you sleep through this and some anti-nausea medicine.” She looks at Mom. “You’ll need to check her for bruising from top-to-bottom several times a day. It’s a vanishingly small likelihood, but if she begins to bruise, you need to call me and take her to the ER immediately. I’m also sending her new DNA to the cloning lab. It’ll take about a month for them to grow her new parts.”
“That quickly?” I ask.
“Yes. They can accelerate the growth.”
She’s right about me feeling ill. By that evening, I throw up my dinner, ache all over, and have a fairly high fever. Over the next few days, I’m barely able to keep the sedatives, ibuprofen, and water down, even with the anti-nausea meds. I then spend the next few days soaked in sweat. I’m grateful to Mom and Megan because they wipe me down several times a day, change my nightgowns, and change the sheets on my bed. The fever finally breaks late in the evening of the fourth day. After I take a shower, I don a pair of clean panties and a nightgown. Then immediately make my way to the kitchen and eat until I’m so full that I couldn’t eat another bite to save my life. You would too if all you had were meds and water for the better part of a week.
I can tell you with absolute certainty that this was a horrid experience, but the one bright side of it is that I am now genetically a girl. Mom is now truly one of my Moms, and Megan is my real sister, something all three of us are very happy about.
The next day, Mother, as I now refer to her, calls me. We talk for about a half-hour, then she says, “I have something to talk to you about.”
I don’t know why, but that simple statement sends chills up my spine and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“Okay, “ I state nervously.
“Listen, I love you. You know that, right?”
Her prefacing our conversation with that merely serves to increase my anxiety level. “Yeah.”
“I don’t want you to think this is your fault either, understand?”
I’m pretty sure I know where she is going with this conversation now, and I want to cry. “Okay.”
“I mean that, don’t think this is your fault… The day after you called and asked your father to donate his chromosome to you, I decided I was at my wit’s end with the situation.”
“Why?”
“Honey, your father has been having a rough time with your decision. He’s been distancing himself not only from you but from me as well since I fully support your decision. We fought all the time about you, and his refusal was merely the final straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“So, what now? I mean, are you getting a divorce? What about his promise to pay for my surgery.”
“No, we aren’t getting a divorce, and he’ll still pay for your surgery. Your father and I sat down and had a rather extensive talk about this. He still loves you, but he just can’t accept that you are a girl. To save our marriage, we’ve decided to give your aunt full custody of you. He agreed to set up an account in your name with $1 million and will contribute $500 a month to it until you graduate college. He also agreed to keep sending money to your aunt every month for her to take care of you.”
No longer able to keep my emotions in check, I drop the phone and break down crying. It hurts so much knowing that they don’t want me. I can hear Mother saying, “Jackie?” over and over as I continue to weep uncontrollably.
Moments later, Mom comes rushing in and worriedly asks, “Jackie? What’s wrong, Sweetie?”
I can’t even speak at the moment, so I remove a hand from where it’s covering my face, pointing to my phone laying on the floor. She picks it up just as Megan comes in and wraps me tightly within her arms. Mom walks into the other room with my phone, and it isn’t long before her loud, angry voice comes from the living room.
Later, after she ends the call, she comes in, and both of them urge me to move to the couch, where they sit on either side of me while I continue crying until I can’t cry anymore, and I’m left numb.
I sit there in a daze while Mom gets up and walks down the hallway. She comes back a few moments later with a washcloth and begins to gently wash my tear-stained face.
“I already knew. Somehow, I just knew,” I whisper despondently. “I knew it when they shared custody of me with you. I just didn’t want to believe it. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew I was right.”
Mom pauses in cleaning my face. “Sweetie, as much as this won’t help you feel better, it’s their loss and our gain,” she tells me.
Suddenly, I’m so angry that I can’t stand it. I push her hand away and surge to my feet, whirling around to stare at mom, then adamantly state, “I hate them! I never want to lay eyes on them again! What kind of people are they to abandon their child?!”
I turn on my heel, storm off to my room, slam the door behind me, and throw myself onto my bed. It isn’t long before Megan taps on my door and comes in. Gently closing the door behind her, she comes over, crawls onto the bed, and cuddles with me. She never says a word, and simply holds me.
A little later, when I’ve calmed down somewhat, I quietly say, “I’m not a bad person. I never get into trouble and always do as I’m told. I’m a good girl. So, why? Why can’t they just love me enough to see that this is what I need to be happy? I can’t help who I am.”
She kisses my cheek as she hugs me a bit tighter. “No, Sis, you can’t. Mom told you already, and she’s right. It’s their loss. Everyone who knows you loves you. How could they not? You’re kind, sweet, and generous to a fault. You never have a bad word to say about anyone. Even the few people you don’t like.”
I sigh resignedly and snuggle in a little closer. “Fuck them.”
Megan starts laughing, and I pull back to look at her with a confused expression, wondering why she’s laughing. When she finally stops, she says, “I’m sorry. I’m not really laughing at you. It’s just that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you cuss, and it struck me as funny to hear that word coming from you.”
I smile lopsidedly and shrug. “I don’t consider it very lady-like to cuss, so I usually don’t, but I’m just so angry.”
“I can’t blame you. I would be, too, in your position. As you said, fuck them. They don’t deserve to have such a wonderful person in their lives.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
After that, we quietly snuggle as I simply indulge myself in my sister’s comforting, warm embrace, until Mom comes to tell us that dinner is ready.
It takes me a few days to come to terms with their decision. I’m so grateful for my mom’s and sister’s support during this time. Finally, though, I snap myself out of it and decide to be happy just to spite them.
Two weeks later, it’s time to enroll us in school, so Mom takes Megan and me down to the high school. It’s our freshman year, and with my grades, I sign up for the AP classes they offer, which, unfortunately, isn’t all that many. It’s a small town, so I suppose that’s to be expected. Megan and I also sign up for Home Economics.
I won’t be attending for long, just about a month, but still, we plan for me to attend until just before my surgery. Megan and I also have cheerleader tryouts to attend this afternoon. I’m fairly confident that both of us will make the squad.
Tryouts weren’t as hard as I thought they might have been, though the competition is quite stiff for the twelve positions on the squad. Megan and I, along with ten others, make the squad. Our captain is a senior named Charlotte, who seems to be really nice. The coach informs us that practice will be held after school Monday through Thursday. Fridays are game days, so there’s no practice then. Megan and I walk the half-mile home smiling our little butts off. I can’t wait to see what our uniforms look like!
We receive our class schedules that Friday in the mail. Thankfully, we have a few classes together. When Mom gets home from work, she takes us shopping for school clothes at the mall. I know, I know, most people would have already done their back-to-school shopping before now, but we waited to avoid the crowds and to see how much I would change. After all, I’ve been changing fairly rapidly due to the massive amount of hormones they have me on. And I’m glad we did because I’ve put on a bit more weight, and now I need new bras and panties. Hormones for the win!
Many bags of clothing, panties, bras, and shoes later, we head over to a diner to eat dinner.
Monday marks the first day of classes, which is really nothing more than an assembly where the principal gives a short welcome speech and introduces the teachers. Then we are released to go to our homerooms, where we are issued our laptops and digital books. Thank God we don’t have to lug around 50 lbs of books.
Somehow, I seem to be quite popular with the boys, who stare at me until I glance in their direction, then quickly look away, which I think is hilarious. Do they really think I don’t notice? When I mention it to Megan, she says it’s because I’m very pretty. Personally, I just think I’m more on the cute side of pretty. The attention is kind of nice though, and it’s much better than being ignored or picked on.
After school, we head to the gym for cheer practice. Today is basically just us being measured for our uniforms. I also find out that our uniforms are the school colors of green and white. The blouse and skirt are made of green spandex with white trim and white lettering for the school’s initials. We’re required to wear glossy, nude stockings with it, white no-show socks, and white sports shoes. After the fitting, we run through a few simple routines, and then we’re released.
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