Today the sky surrounding me is azure and clear, the heat rises to embrace my skin, and a fountain bubbles and splatters happily nearby. It’s mid-May, and here I sit and consider the past nine months. I didn’t realize the play on words and timing until just this moment – nine months.

Nineteen years ago in mid-May, I was contemplating a very different nine months: nearly nine months pregnant with twins while parenting a clever and headstrong, tow-headed two-year-old. My mind’s ramblings were full of both hopes and dreams and tiredness and impatience. My dim sleep-deprived eyes were bright with promise.

Today I contemplate nine months ago. I dropped my baby off at college out-of-state, 900 miles away. The twins, my husband, and I embarked on this road-trip to independence. Leaving the heat of August in the desert southwest on a Saturday morning brilliant with summer sunshine, our trek led us to cooler climes and higher altitudes through the course of the day.

After a night’s stay at a relative’s home, we arrived midday on Sunday at our university destination. The historic 120-year-old campus was full of amazing architecture from a variety of periods. Tudor-style brick dormitories across the street from clapboard fraternity and sorority houses were surrounded by expansive lawns of green and towering deciduous and evergreen trees. The sky was a bright blue, the temperature brisk and invigorating.

This road-trip had been so much fun – much easier than those of times long past when three little ones sat in car seats expressing their needs with varying degrees of intensity. Twin 18-year-olds are much easier. 🙂

The arrival at the campus was reassuring and comfortable. Twin number two had chosen this institution in part due to its geographical location, but also greatly influenced by its degree of welcome and support of gender non-conformity and inclusion. That had caused some consternation on my part as we had made all the college arrangements throughout the preceding school year, but once we arrived for orientation and move-in, my heart felt strangely at ease.

Prior to heading off to college, our second twin was the only one who had expressed a transgender identity. They had been going by a male name and pronouns at school and with friends for the last two years of high school. At home, my husband and I had chosen to continue using their given name and gendered pronouns. This arrival at college was my send-off for my daughter: one last weekend of hearing their given name used, one last time of seeing their given name on their dorm room door decoration.

When we showed up on Sunday afternoon to get keys for the suite to which they were assigned, the student worker who was manning the check-in desk was obviously male-to-female transgender. There were several other student workers nearby. They were all interacting sociably and pleasantly with one another. It gave me a warm feeling to know that even if I wasn’t comfortable with my child’s choices, he was going to be in a place where people would treat him well and accept him as he is.

Monday and Tuesday were orientation days – one track for a parent or support person and another track for the new student. Dad and twin number one spent time hanging out at the hotel and walking around the campus and town, while I attended the parent track and our new freshman attended their sessions. We overlapped a little here and there and had a really peaceful, beautiful time of preparing for the separation to come on Wednesday.

Tuesday evening before our other twin and my husband and I returned to our hotel for one last night, we gathered in the new dormroom to say our goodnights. We have prayed with our kids at many bedtimes over the years, progressively fewer nights in a row as they got older, but still with some regularity especially on big occasions. So we shared in prayer for this new venture for all of us. I was doing really well emotionally until I said the word “sad” during my prayer. It’s amazing how saying one word can cause the tears to rise. Afterwards, we laughed at that, and how easy it seems to be for mom to cry in these “older” years.

Finally, as we always hug goodnight with our kids every night we are together, it was time for hugs. Since this would be the last goodnight hug for two months, I decided I would hold the hug one second for each of the 60 or so nights we’d be apart. I gave no warning, though, so it was just an unexplained long hug, until I was questioned. I explained. I was told it was still awkward, but that’s my job as mom. 🙂

One of the last things I did on Wednesday before we headed to the airport was to buy a really nice university t-shirt from the bookstore on campus. Coincidentally it’s what I’m wearing today as I write.

Nine months after college drop-off for this twin, lots of life has changed. Hormone treatments began within a couple days of our leaving. They’ve entirely socially transitioned. I’ve started addressing mail to their new name, and I’m even able to call them by that name in person, though it’s still not easy.

We’re just concluding a two-week post-freshman year visit before they head back out-of-state for the summer job they got on campus and to move into their very first apartment. Last night we played a long board game, like our family often does, and I sat next to my baby twin. We giggled and elbowed each other throughout the evening. I stood at one point and pretended to push them out of their chair, and they leaned in to me. I held that moment and felt the soft touch of their hair on my arm, and embraced my child with all my heart.