Member-only story
I Didn’t Want Kids Until I Began Transitioning
Creating a family of my own felt impossible until I rejected the confines of society — and biology
A laboratory analyst in teal scrubs leads me into a room. There’s a clean sink in the corner of the room and a low leather armchair facing a TV that sits high on the room’s cream walls. The room is lifelessly functional. In one hand, I hold a plastic bag with a screw top cup inside; in the other, a clipboard where I am to record the exact time and whether the “entire sample” is in the cup.
The analyst begins her instructions like cabin staff on a plane. Lifting her arm toward the television, she tells me there is a selection of heterosexual and homosexual porn available. She fans her other arm just outside the room toward a buzzer and what looks like a glory hole but is definitely not a glory hole. “Ring that and pop your sample through there when you’re done. We’ll come and collect you.” She leaves and shuts the door behind her.
I flick through the scarce and outdated selection on the TV. As I sit in the leather armchair and watch, I feel strange and distant, distracted by the thoughts of the men and women who have sat in this chair before me. I record the details — 12:45, yes — ring the bell, hand in the form, and leave.
