For someone who moves as often as I do, I have a great deal of junk- especially as “De-cluttering” is fashionable. I have a spare bedroom filled with junk, stuff I might use again and stuff I certainly won’t, and there is a bag in it which gives me painful memories when I see it in the pile, though I cannot quite bring myself to throw it away. It contains four plastic dilators, some outdated lubricant, and tools for douching myself.
I went to Thailand for my op, having heard that Dr. Suporn Watanyusakul produced particularly deep neovaginas, did not require pre-operative electrolysis to remove hair from the scrotum, and preserved the glans to produce a clitoris. Rather than lining the neovagina with penile skin, he used the scrotum, and I understand much of my seven hours under anaesthetic was occupied removing those hairs. Scrotal skin does not stretch like penile skin does, but there was no need to stretch with the 7″ of depth he generally achieved. Immediately after, I would have to “dilate” by inserting a plastic dildo into myself for two hours each morning and two hours each evening. I would hold a water-bottle between my legs to prevent the dilator from coming out.
I found this painful. The pain was in the opening to my vagina, and was constant while I dilated. Initially I was supposed to put in the medium dilator at first and replace it with the larger one, and then use the larger one only. I found this difficult. I used to get up at five, insert the dilator, and lie in bed trying to rest, but though I was supine I found it exhausting rather than restful. I crashed my car, writing it off and damaging another which I shunted, driving home in order to dilate after work. I hated it.
After six months, I was supposed to be able to reduce this to one session of two hours each day. However, when I did so, I found I could only use the medium dilator. On two hours a day, the opening was shrinking. So I gave up. I consulted a plastic surgeon and a gynaecologist, but rather than looking for a solution I was really seeking absolution for giving up. I could not celebrate my determination in sticking out six months, as I had failed. Eventually, I absolved myself.
I thought the orifice would heal up, and it does, but very slowly: ten years later I still have a neovagina, suitable for intercourse if my partner’s penis is no longer or thicker than my thumb. (People sometimes comment on my beautiful, feminine hands.) I had one try at what we jokingly referred to as “organic dilation”- using something organic rather than plastic- but it did nothing for me. My friend said her partner, after, complained of being sore, as our organ is not as stretchy as real ones. I have little sexual sensation in my clitoris, though this may be psychological rather than physical.
Some years after a trans woman gave me a dilator as thick as my thumb, to use in order to build up to thicker ones. Worth a try, perhaps, though I have never used it. Yet I cannot bring myself to throw that bag away.