It was a primal scream that went right through me and sent distress signals to my heart. My beautiful 4-year-old daughter stood up in the bathtub as though she were possessed. "Mommy, I'm supposed to be a boy. God made a mistake!" she screamed through heaving tears.

I look back on how I used to define love. I realize that without this amazing experience with my transgender son, I would not have recognized the different ways that love could be expressed. Risking the unknown, our family has been able to create a richer life.

Nicole was 10 years old, openly attending school as a transgender girl, and Valentine's Day was right around the corner. One evening Nicole came home, and while we were preparing dinner, she announced that there was going to be a father-daughter dance at the town recreation building.

As the mother of a trans man, I have a hard time dwelling on the fact that hate could drive a person to murder someone like my son. I know what all of us who love our children know: that if you really knew them, you could never hate them. But the fear of what could happen never really goes away.

My transgender daughter Nicole is my mentor. It's tough to put into words what a profound impact this small person has had in changing my core values, but since the young age of 5, she has unknowingly encouraged me to open my eyes and heart to new ideas.

I had the happiest baby you ever saw. But when my beloved son, at the age of 4, told me that something had gone wrong in my belly and that he was supposed to be a she, I assured him that he was wrong. By the age of 6, Will was threatening suicide.