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What's It Like To Look Down, See And Have It Click In Your Mind That You Now Have A Vagina?


Guest Orva26

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Guest Megan_Lynn

All I have to say is to the ones that already got srs/grs congrands and lucky you. To the ones about to get srs/grs hope everything works out ok.

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Guest Sarah_W

Perhaps I can put things in a different light. I remember all of the angst and feeling like it would never happen for me. In some respects I felt doomed. But eventually things came together. For me the key was to make a plan. I carefully and realistically created a plan and totally worked to implement the plan. Believe it or not I had my SRS within three weeks of my original goal. Not bad for a 4 year plan.

Looking back even though it was a four year plan it also seemed like a blur. I had my surgery with Dr. Kamol in Bangkok. All of a sudden, it seems, I was in my hospital room being prepped for surgery. Two nurses aides came in to shave the surgery site. They had those cheap BIC razors and kinda not real gentle with the shaving and I was thinking, "boy they better be careful they might cut me". That struck me funny and I started giggling to myself. The young girls must have thought I was ticklish. Strange Americans! Next thing I know, I was on a gurney being pushed down a hallway to the operating theater and I'm thinking to myself, "I wonder what the different colored lines are on the floor?". For some reason I also wondered what the young man must have been thinking of me as he pushed me along. Then I was lifted onto the operating table. They strap you down in these aluminum looking tracks and put these things over your legs to keep the circulation going properly. The have your arms sticking straight out, also strapped down. I remember thinking this looked kinda like Jesus on the cross. My last words were to Dr. Kamol telling him he's a very skilled and talented surgeon. Y'know, a little pep talk.

I woke up in the recovery area quite surprised that it was all over with. I layed there for a moment wondering if the pain would kick in. It didn't. Then I just smiled to myself and whispered "YES!".

I won't go into all of the recovery details, etc. It's been almost five years. They say it takes about six months to "own" your new equipment. Whether that's a vagina or breast augmentation, it's true. After a while you're just another woman with all that goes with that. I don't think about having a vagina or breasts anymore. I think about how to lose this pooch that suddenly seems to have appeared under my belly button. I think someone slipped a Kaiser roll under there while I was sleeping. I think about summer and swimsuit season is here and I'm not ready...again. I hope the new swimsuit doesn't make me look like a bad case of pubic mound when it gets wet. I think about that guy I went out with last weekend and he hasn't called. It's been eight days and he hasn't called! I thought we really hit if off, too. I think about how easy it was to get a good paying job "before" surgery and now I seem to be worth half what I used to make.

Yes, there are lots and lots of things to think about.

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Guest N. Jane

Perhaps I can put things in a different light. I remember all of the angst and feeling like it would never happen for me.

What a great segue leading in to how it came about for me! :lol:

In 1973 I was 24 years old and had been seriously suicidal for years. I had a great group of doctors in Ontario who were very supportive and who knew I wasn't going to last long but there was no surgeon available willing to do the surgery even though I had been "assessed" six ways come Sunday and been on hormones for years.

Suddenly I heard Dr. Biber in Colorado was performing surgery and spoke to him on the phone in January 1974. I could only raise half the money he requested for SRS but he said to send my medical files to him and "We'd talk." which I did. He said to come down anyway, even though I didn't have the full amount, but he didn't say yea or nay - just come down. It took me almost two months to liquidate everything I had, turn a few dubious deals, and raise half of the fee in cash.

I got into a huge fight with my mother over SRS - she had always been deathly opposed to anything to do with transitioning or SRS - and she threw me out. I left home at 24 with nothing but a suitcase and a bank draft! I went to the nearest city and got an apartment, unpacked my bag, and jumped on the bus for Detroit where I was going to catch the train to Colorado.

When the bus got to the U.S. border, the tunnel between Windsor, Ontario, and Detroit Michigan, the border guard saw I only had a few dollars in my wallet and refused me entry to the U.S. - I wasn't going to tell him I had $5,000 in bank drafts!!!!!!!! I immediately jumped in a cab and headed to the U.S. over the bridge but it was too late - the border guards there already knew I had been turned back. I had to choice but to take the bus back to my new home in the city and formulate a new plan.

The following day I took a plane from my home city to Toronto with connecting flights through Chicago to Denver where I would catch a bus to Trinidad. Passing through U.S. Customs & Emigration was a snap this time and I settled in for the long day in the air.

But we didn't get to Denver! After departing Chicago a major blizzard moved over the Rocky Mountains and closed every airport west of the mountains! We circled over Denver for 2.5 hours, burning fuel and waiting for an airport to re-open. Finally we were diverted to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and made a hairy landing on icy runways! I was as close to Trinidad as I would have been from Denver but the airline wouldn't allow us to disembark! We waited another 2 or 3 hours on the ground in Albuquerque, stuck in the plane, before our flight departed for Denver again.

We arrived in Denver to find that virtually ALL transportation was shut down. Our plane was one of only 2 to reach Denver that day, more than 6 hours behind schedule!, and NOTHING was departing, not buses, not trains, not airplanes as all the roads were closed with 35 foot snow drifts in the mountains!

I took a taxi from the airport to the bus depot, intending to just sleep as best I could in the depot and catch the first bus heading south, toward Trinidad. Around midnight, through the fog in my head, I heard a departure announcement that included Trinidad - it was the same bus I was SUPPOSED to be on 12 hours earlier but had been delayed by the storm! I boarded. At least I would be moving in the right direction again.

When we boarded the bus, the driver told us the roads were closed and the blizzard was still raging but he was going to try to get through. Some people elected to stay in Denver but there was no way I was going to give up and off we went. A few hours out, the bus had to return to Denver for some kind of mechanical repair and then we headed out again. I nestled into my seat in the dark and slept. I was moving, I was going in the right direction, and I was headed toward my destiny, whatever that might be.

When I woke up in the morning, the sky was clear blue and the sun was lighting up the mountain tops - it was almost a spiritual sight! It was the first time I had seen the mountains and we were just coming into Trinidad! B)

I met with Dr. Biber that morning, Good Friday, 1974 - it was more like an audition than a medical appointment - and eventually he said to report to the hospital Sunday afternoon, which I did.

On Monday morning they prepped me for surgery and wheeled me off to the O.R. but I STILL felt like some other complication would arise to foil my plans! My last words were "If you don't do it, don't wake me up."

I woke up Monday afternoon to the Colorado sun streaming through the window of my room, lifted the covers to see what amounted to a large diaper, SMILED, and went back to sleep. I had the most contented sleep of my life knowing the ordeal

was over.

Believe me when I say that after the road I had traveled to get to that point, there was only relief ..... purse, simple RELIEF that the horror was ended.

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Guest N. Jane

Thank you Kathleen.

The above account was just the final few months of a war that started when I was 13 and puberty betrayed me. The war, previously, had always been one with no real hope of victory. There were scattered "experimental surgeries" at places like Johns Hopkins but they were hardly open to accepting new patients. SRS was being done in Belgium, but only for Belgium nationals. Morocco was doing surgery but the cost was about equivalent to two years professional wages (about $20,000 U.S. in 1968) when my mechanic father was making $8,000 a year.

I never really expected to survive. Just like the other like me, I figured I would end my life some dark night around age 25, so when I heard about Dr. Biber it was the first glimmer of hope EVER and there was nothing to loose. I didn't even have a return ticket when I left for Colorado because if SRS didn't happen, I wasn't going to need it. When you are pinned down by enemy fire and bound to die where you sit, you may as well charge the hill with slim hope than die with none.

After it was all over, I can't honestly say looking at my body brought any "special feeling" aside from "Thank God that's over." and the knowledge that I had escaped Auschwitz and was free. Everything after that was just "life the way it was supposed to be", life just like everyone else.

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I am only 50 days post op but i can tell you one minute you are awake then the next you are under, then you awaken in recovery and surgery was over, when i woke up in recovery my first thought was thank god i made it through surgery, my second thought was that i am finally complete and a great calmness seemed to come over me, not sure if it was the meds or that the dysphoria was finally gone, i suspect both.

I am still in the healing phase so tight fitting clothes and panties are out for awhile, but looking at myself in the shower or in a mirror makes me feel this is how it should have been for the last 59 years, i feel complete.

For me the surgery pain was not too bad, i used the morphine pump the first night after surgery, then Vicodin/Tylenol as needed the rest of my hospital stay. I have allot of granulation that needs to be treated with silver nitrate sessions every 10 - 14 days, for about the next 6 months, 2 - 3 days following the pain is pretty bad and the sloshing off of dead skin and discharge is pretty nasty, good thing i am not squeamish, this should diminish as time goes on.

Paula

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Guest Alexandra89

That all sounds like a dream come true (is it weird that I dream about normalcy?).Just an indefinite number of years left!

Must not tear them off... Must... Not... Grrrrrrr...

-Alex

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Guest Sarah_W

Wonderful story Jane. Thankfully you're here to tell it! In my opinion being transgender is a condition in which we must survive. We know many do not survive therefore it is very uplifting to hear from those who do. I remember when I was lying on the operating table, surrounded by stangers, thinking "here I am, in a third world country, about to go under anesthesia. Well, if I die tonight at least I died trying." For me, I just surrendered to the process. It was like falling into a swimming pool on a very hot day and just sinking to the bottom feeling all the comfort surrounding your body as you cool down.

My story is very similar to every other story I've read. To become post op and be the person you know in the heart that you really are is not unlike climbing Mount Everest. It is an incredibly difficult, long, journey. Once you reach the summit the view/feelings are unlike anything you've ever expereinced in your life. All of the difficulty and expense pale in comparison when you look back on it.

To the original question that began this thread. Yes, one can say it feels "normal", it feels "right", etc. The most important thing is the absense of the distain or displeasure of seeing something there that you don't want. Yes, I greatly appreciate how a great fitting pair of jeans look from the front now. Yes, I love how a tight skirt looks from the front with no visible little "bump". And yes, I love wearing a swimsuit on the beach with everything being right with the world.

I am in the happiest period of my life and wish it was easier for everyone to get there. All I can say is do whatever it takes to reach the summit. There are solutions out there and if you want it badly enough, if you will do anything to achieve it, then you can.

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Guest N. Jane
And yes, I love wearing a swimsuit on the beach with everything being right with the world.

I had forgotten about that! I had surgery in April (age 24) and spent most of that summer in a bikini. I wont say I was "showing off" but I so loved watching the boys tripping over their tongues! I wasn't the prettiest girl in the world but I had a nice body and enjoyed showing it off (when the deformity was gone).

The difference from the previous summer (in my mind) was like night and day!

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  • 1 month later...
Guest Isabella_Anne

What a great segue leading in to how it came about for me! :lol:

In 1973 I was 24 years old and had been seriously suicidal for years. I had a great group of doctors in Ontario who were very supportive and who knew I wasn't going to last long but there was no surgeon available willing to do the surgery even though I had been "assessed" six ways come Sunday and been on hormones for years.

Suddenly I heard Dr. Biber in Colorado was performing surgery and spoke to him on the phone in January 1974. I could only raise half the money he requested for SRS but he said to send my medical files to him and "We'd talk." which I did. He said to come down anyway, even though I didn't have the full amount, but he didn't say yea or nay - just come down. It took me almost two months to liquidate everything I had, turn a few dubious deals, and raise half of the fee in cash.

I got into a huge fight with my mother over SRS - she had always been deathly opposed to anything to do with transitioning or SRS - and she threw me out. I left home at 24 with nothing but a suitcase and a bank draft! I went to the nearest city and got an apartment, unpacked my bag, and jumped on the bus for Detroit where I was going to catch the train to Colorado.

When the bus got to the U.S. border, the tunnel between Windsor, Ontario, and Detroit Michigan, the border guard saw I only had a few dollars in my wallet and refused me entry to the U.S. - I wasn't going to tell him I had $5,000 in bank drafts!!!!!!!! I immediately jumped in a cab and headed to the U.S. over the bridge but it was too late - the border guards there already knew I had been turned back. I had to choice but to take the bus back to my new home in the city and formulate a new plan.

The following day I took a plane from my home city to Toronto with connecting flights through Chicago to Denver where I would catch a bus to Trinidad. Passing through U.S. Customs & Emigration was a snap this time and I settled in for the long day in the air.

But we didn't get to Denver! After departing Chicago a major blizzard moved over the Rocky Mountains and closed every airport west of the mountains! We circled over Denver for 2.5 hours, burning fuel and waiting for an airport to re-open. Finally we were diverted to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and made a hairy landing on icy runways! I was as close to Trinidad as I would have been from Denver but the airline wouldn't allow us to disembark! We waited another 2 or 3 hours on the ground in Albuquerque, stuck in the plane, before our flight departed for Denver again.

We arrived in Denver to find that virtually ALL transportation was shut down. Our plane was one of only 2 to reach Denver that day, more than 6 hours behind schedule!, and NOTHING was departing, not buses, not trains, not airplanes as all the roads were closed with 35 foot snow drifts in the mountains!

I took a taxi from the airport to the bus depot, intending to just sleep as best I could in the depot and catch the first bus heading south, toward Trinidad. Around midnight, through the fog in my head, I heard a departure announcement that included Trinidad - it was the same bus I was SUPPOSED to be on 12 hours earlier but had been delayed by the storm! I boarded. At least I would be moving in the right direction again.

When we boarded the bus, the driver told us the roads were closed and the blizzard was still raging but he was going to try to get through. Some people elected to stay in Denver but there was no way I was going to give up and off we went. A few hours out, the bus had to return to Denver for some kind of mechanical repair and then we headed out again. I nestled into my seat in the dark and slept. I was moving, I was going in the right direction, and I was headed toward my destiny, whatever that might be.

When I woke up in the morning, the sky was clear blue and the sun was lighting up the mountain tops - it was almost a spiritual sight! It was the first time I had seen the mountains and we were just coming into Trinidad! B)

I met with Dr. Biber that morning, Good Friday, 1974 - it was more like an audition than a medical appointment - and eventually he said to report to the hospital Sunday afternoon, which I did.

On Monday morning they prepped me for surgery and wheeled me off to the O.R. but I STILL felt like some other complication would arise to foil my plans! My last words were "If you don't do it, don't wake me up."

I woke up Monday afternoon to the Colorado sun streaming through the window of my room, lifted the covers to see what amounted to a large diaper, SMILED, and went back to sleep. I had the most contented sleep of my life knowing the ordeal

was over.

Believe me when I say that after the road I had traveled to get to that point, there was only relief ..... purse, simple RELIEF that the horror was ended.

My goodness. I hardly know what to say. I'm just starting my journey and SRS seems so far away. But I have survived this long for some reason. That has to be one of the happiest stories of determination and triumph I have read in a long time. It brings tears to my eyes.

Isabella

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  • 1 month later...

Oh my, oh my, oh my......OH MY!!!

I actually LOVE my wonderful male'thingy', I just wish it was attached to somebody else, and pointing back at me...lol...

Seriously, though, I just can't cry another tear tonight. The Colorado story has drained me dry...Thanks!

Someday, someday, someday. Someday I will look like myself...

Thank you for all of your stories of inspiration, ladies!

Wow. How can I have not noticed that the world was full of folks just like myself. I really did believe I was then only one...what an immense oversight!

Love, Svenna

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  • 2 months later...

I haven't even set my first foot on the path yet and I'm getting all teary reading this. You all are my salvation....thank you!

Cassie,

I disagree! Just being here on Laura's IS setting your first foot 'on the path'...

Congratulations to you, girl, for taking the leap of faith and looking into your options for a better future, whatever that may entail (or, dis-entail, lol!)...

Best to ya, Svenna

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  • 2 weeks later...

Orva 26<

It is the best most wonderous feeling. To see that I finally look right. I always dreamed of the day I would finaly be free of what should never have been. I feel pure and I feel myself. And yes, it feels damm good to have my underware it right!

Sarah Ann

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Guest Kaitlyn16

Wow Jane, that was a rough journey... I can say from experience that I too, hate public transportation haha... That it a very rough journey you made, and I'm glad your here to tell it to us. ^-^

What everyone says about how it feels makes me nervous though... Whenever I imagine myself as a woman or dress up as one, I feel incredible relief. I can hardly imagine wearing girl clothes and having it feel normal... what is that like? Does it feel better to dress up as a woman and feel normal as opposed to feeling the relief that crossdressing brings? Its probably a silly question, but I do sometimes worry that I might be in this more for the journey than the destination.

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  • 1 month later...
Guest chris80

"What would it be like to go into the other one? To only be able to go into the other one?"

Orva26

in the queue for the ladies room you would have plenty of time to think about it

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Guest FemtoKitten

Feeling lifting of spirits knowing that I will be eligible once I turn 18... then comes the crashing down when I realize I can't conceivably pay for it anytime soon (unless I take out a loan I would have to pay for the rest of my life).

I will get there someday... I know it to be true. Strange feeling to have both Hope (it will happen) and Despair (how will I pay for it?) running in me at the same time.

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Guest LauraJen

I'm always a bit cautious over getting into the state of mind where I label being trans as the root of all problems, but sometimes that's really what it feels like. Whenever I get dysphoric, sometimes severely so, most of it is concentrated down there. It really gets difficult to live with, sometimes. I hate what it does, how it looks, the fact that wherever I go, whatever I do, it's always there. I hate it.

Sorry for being a bit of a dark cloud, but sometimes it just gets too much.

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Guest Erin Quinn

Thank you everyone who has posted in this topic; one of the most inspirational threads I've read in my short few years here. As I sit a few days away from my surgery, so many thanks to those who have come before, currently working, and will take this often hard, fantastic, enlightening and amazing journey. Much love Laura's

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Guest Pamela5

I am newly post op. I have had a long struggle with my GID and should have addressed it much earlier. Having said that I now have an inner peace and relaxed satisfaction now that my body is right. I was always on edge with my male parts because I knew I was female. Certainly it is wonderful to make love as a woman (really wonderful) but the best part is being able to fully function as a woman in society with no fear of being outed. When I shower at the gym and walk by the mirror I smile to myself as I see the proper genitals. I can wear a bathing suit, yoga pants and tight jeans without fear. I am very happy.

Pam

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  • 1 month later...
Guest Catherine Sarah

So special, So real; So personal; So intimate; ... Just soooo YOU.

:(:(:(

Thank you everyone for your thoughts and feelings on this topic. It's just soooo raw. It's a further testament to a goal of mine, some 89 or so weeks away. Thank you for the inspiration. I KNOW it's achievable.

Be safe, well and happy

Lotsa huggs

Catherine

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Guest Donna Jean

.

What's It Like To Look Down, See And Have It Click In Your Mind That You Now Have A Vagina?

Ask me this again, right before Christmas.......

Huggggggs

Dee Jay

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