Tears are always close to the surface these days. It may just take a kind word from someone or the straw-that-broke-the-camel's-back flat tire. I have taken to keeping tissue in my pocket and have become an expert and excusing myself quietly or turning my head to gather myself. I know I'm not fooling many. Folks know something is up. Many people have commented how tired I look - which isn't helped by the fact that I haven't properly done my hair or put on even a hint of make-up (I'm a minimalist type of girl at the best of times) more than a few times since C came out. But this thing is all-consuming.

If I'm not thinking about researching hormones and procedures, I'm reading posts on the Transgender Facebook groups I have joined. I'm worrying about my family's mental health and how they are handling this life-changing situation. I'm thinking about how the conversation will go with the principal of the new school C will be attending next autumn (God, I hope it goes well!). I'm worrying that C's facial hair will start growing before we make it to our endocrinologist appointment next month. I'm panicking about the cost of treatments and trying not to let that show to my husband who is a money worrier. I'm considering whether C will decide she wants to buy new clothes for summer camp or wait until she's getting school clothes. I'm thinking about how C's conversation went when she told her girlfriend - she doesn't want to talk about it but says it went well - and the implications that has for the other family. I'm considering if I am supporting everyone in every way possible. I'm thinking about how C will handle the coming out to my parents and if C will come out to her dad's father at all.

The never ending stream of "what ifs" is overwhelming. The wheels in my head are constantly spinning. I feel like a hamster on a wheel. I can only imagine this is what it's like when someone has an illness they are trying to keep quiet. Doctor's appointments, insurance, questions about the future. But this isn't an illness. This is something to be celebrated - and we are celebrating in our home - even if it's confusing and challenging, at times. It's just hard not to talk about it 24/7 with those outside our immediate circle.

Last night, our youngest boy called me in to his bedroom as he settled down to sleep. "I just don't understand it, mum" he said through confused tears. We talked for a long time and I told him it's really hard to understand it when it's something you just can't imagine for yourself. I said him it's ok to be sad, confused and even angry. In time, things will normalize but it's going to be bumpy for awhile. He nodded and put his head down on his pillow with the same exhausted look I imagine I've been carrying around for a few weeks. We'll all get through this together. We will.