Reflections from my wife

The waiting room was the worst part. I was nervous, even though Dr. Bowers had explained the relatively low chance of complications. I'm endlessly grateful for M's suggestion that we ask an old friend to accompany us — well, really to keep me company. She took me out for coffee, and kept me talking about things other than the fact that the man I loved was going under the knife as we sipped our chai. In reality, we were gone for less than two hours. When I came back into the waiting room, I made eye contact with another woman, who I later learned was the partner of the man having surgery directly before M. We still talk to that couple. (There's a whole other discussion to be had about the partners of trans* folks, and trans men in particular, finding community between one another. For any partners reading this, I encourage you to seek out others who have seen partners through similar moments... It helps to talk to someone else who "gets" it.)

Dr. Bowers emerged from the operating room and briefly summarized that everything had gone well, telling me he had done excellently. I was allowed back to see him. He was groggy, and struggling to keep his eyes open, but in a sweet, doped-up kind of way. As the drugs worked their way out of his system, I helped him to the bathroom, and we got a look at his bandaged cock. I'll admit that we were both eager to see the results unwrapped — though that would take a few more days. The nurses helped him into a wheelchair and brought him out to the car I'd pulled around. 

We spent the next couple days holed up in a hotel, with me making runs to grocery stores and Chinese food restaurants. There was a part of me that cherished the quiet, solo drives. Again, for partners caring for men having similar surgeries, I can't stress enough: Make some time to take care of yourself. Whatever that means for you, it will help you be able to be more present and supportive of your partner if you carve out moments for yourself... And anyways, he'll be sleeping a lot the first few days. Why not take a stroll during one of his naps?

The bandages came off after the fourth day, though I think M helped them off a bit more than he was really "supposed" to. He's documented those early days of healing here, so I won't go into great detail. I tend to be kind of fascinated by the human healing process, so I didn't have any trouble looking up, down, and all around his wounds — it was actually really cool to see how his body changed each day — but those who are squeamish should be prepared for some crusty, bloody, oozy wounds. All of those are actually good signs, but I could see how they'd be nerve-wracking. Overall, his recovery was steady, relatively complication-free, and by the time we were ready to fly back home to Southern California, he was up and walking around, if a bit stiffly. I carried our suitcases and fussed over him more than he wanted me to, but it did my heart good to feel like a caretaker, and then to see him get back to his usual self within a couple weeks. 

Now that I think about it, the waiting was the worst part, all-around. From the waiting room to the six to eight weeks we had to abstain from sex, I struggled because, as M has said, I was eager to test out the new equipment. When we finally got the all-clear to fool around, I'll admit that I was timid at first. I was so worried I would hurt him. Needless to say (as the one-year photos prove!) I didn't pull his penis off, so I suppose I eventually figured out what was good and what wasn't. 

M and I have always had quite the spark, but there was certainly a learning curve after the surgery. Navigating that has been an important exercise for both of us (OK, mostly for me) in communicating our desires and what feels good. It was strange to need a sort of "re-introduction" to this person whose body I'd already been loving. But that's what I needed. It became really important for me, personally, to understand the nuances of his new equipment, to learn what I could move around, pull on, stroke, and suck. 

And oh, the sucking. I've always been a fan of giving head, but that's one thing that has distinctly improved since M had his surgery, in my opinion. His cock fills up more space — the perfect amount — in my mouth, and there are few things better in the world than swirling my tongue around the head of his cock and hearing him moan. My head bobs up and down more than it used to, and it's endlessly entertaining to hold him in my mouth, draw my head back, and see how far I can stretch his cock. But without a doubt, my favorite part is the fact that I can get such excellent access to his head now. Before surgery, he would certainly get hard, and I could focus on the head, but after, I'm able to pull back the foreskin to reveal the head in its totality, swirling my tongue around the tip, sucking on it, all while peeking up at him from between his legs. Sometimes, I get a little too fixated on the head, and he lets me know I'm over-stimulating him... But I can't help myself. It's just such a gorgeous cock, and feels so delicious in my mouth. 

Oh, and another fun detail? His cock now dances for me. Seriously. He can control the muscles, and pump it up and down. And when I'm doing a particularly good job, I can see it pulsate when he comes. It's an incredibly validating sign of approval. A thumbs-up, if you will.

Dr. Bowers had speculated that he'd be able to penetrate me post-surgery, but we haven't managed to find a position that works for us to do that yet. I'm convinced it's possible, but I think M is less certain. I think it just means I need to contort myself in the right way, or pull my legs high enough above my head, so he can slide into me. As it is, I have definitely felt him brushing up against me, and there is something so absurdly sexy about knowing his cock is right there, basically teasing me. I usually don't last long before pulling him down into me. 

Both of us have always used our hands to penetrate one another, and that hasn't changed. I was definitely more cautious about any rough fucking during the first several months after surgery, but by this point, everything has healed so well that I can fuck him every bit as hard as he asks me to. 

All in all, going through this experience has brought us closer, and because I met M post-transition, this felt like an important moment for me to accompany him through. I don't think it has fundamentally changed our sex life, but any shifts I've seen have been in a positive direction. Selfishly, I love the affirmation of seeing him get hard, and seeing his face as he proudly waves his dick at me, whether that's in bed, in the shower, or, well, anywhere else. Mostly, I'm glad to see him feel more comfortable with his body — from where I sit, he's closer to seeing himself as the handsome, whole, endlessly sexy man that I've seen him as since we exchanged nervous glances across a hotel room years ago.