Five years ago, when Steve and Debbie Crecelius awaited results of his kidney stone ultrasound, they weren’t expecting earth-shattering news.

But what the technician told them rocked their world.

“She said, ‘You’re female,’ ” said Steve, a prominent local photographer who has worked with clients ranging from Harrison Ford to the city of Glendale.

The medical discovery that he is intersex — born with a mix of anatomical sex traits, so biological gender cannot be classified as either male or female — led to a flood of revelations that would refine and redefine their 25-year marriage.

When they got home, Debbie forced a conversation that Steve feared would cost him his wife and family.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to talk to you about,” she said, explaining that she’d always known that he had female traits.

“Why, because I have more shoes than you?” he joked. “I didn’t want to know what her reaction would be. But (the medical discovery) validated everything I felt.”

He began to explain how he liked to dress up in his mother’s clothes as a child, and how natural it felt. She saw his tears, and knew how hard it was for him. Her first response was to take him shopping for a bra.

“Initially, I was very accepting,” she said. “I was like, ‘OK, we’ll get through this.’ But the further into it we got, I thought, ‘You know, I didn’t sign on for this.’ “

As reality hit, she began to grieve the loss of her husband. “I was never, ever going to get him back.”

As they tell their story, sitting at their kitchen table in a suburban neighborhood in Lone Tree, Steve — now Stevie, a woman — tears up frequently.

“There are times when it wasn’t worth it, the thought of losing her,” Stevie said, pausing to regain emotional control. “She would say, ‘No, you will be who you are.’ There was still a firm foundation of support, but on the surface, she was still trying to deal with the reality that all of a sudden she had this woman in her life.”

About a year into Stevie’s transition, they vacationed together in Moab, and she appeared in public as a woman for the first time.

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Debbie said. “It was still new, and I wasn’t used to being with another woman. Of course, Stevie was so self-conscious.”

They have remained emotionally open during the early transition.

“We asked each other questions,” said Debbie. “He asked me, ‘What if you meet someone along the way?’ I said, ‘What if you meet someone?’ The road goes both ways.”

They also pondered a future together.

“We’d worked so hard to build our relationship and our family,” Stevie said, “that to start over again with somebody …”

“God, to have to break in somebody new!” Debbie interrupted, with a laugh.

Their marriage began in 1986. They were both single parents working at a hospital in Rapid City, S.D.

She worked in the cardiac diagnostics department, a 29-year-old with four young kids. He worked in the education department, a 34-year-old with two children. They worked hard to blend their family, so that no one felt like a stepchild, and they always presented a united front.

More than 25 years later, settling in to a new normal, they used the same approach — a united front — to tell their six adult children that Stevie is transgender.

They finally told their family this past winter, encouraged by the national response to transgender activist Chaz Bono on “Dancing With The Stars” in October 2011.

“He kept getting voted in,” Stevie said. “It was not like he was a great dancer, but I think he had broad public support.”

Each child was told individually. They found it hardest to tell a son-in-law who is a Marine. “He’s a man’s man,” Stevie said. “We were kind of worried.”

Curled into a fetal position in a corner of the couch, Stevie couldn’t find the words, so Debbie did.

“That big husky Marine scooches right over, and said, ‘Dad, look what you’ve accomplished,’ pointing to my daughter and their 8-month old. ‘You are always going to be the patriarch to the family. A trillion people on this planet would give anything to have the love that is in this family.’ “

The loving acceptance of their six children and 10 grandchildren helped them begin to tell friends and clients.

“It’s fair to say I’ve lost some friends,” Stevie said.

“But those were friends who weren’t really friends,” Debbie said.

Most everyone has been supportive, including clients like the city of Glendale, when Mayor Mike Dunafon quipped, “I’m glad to know Glendale gets two photographers for the price of one — Steve and Stevie.”

Tonight, Stevie will work in public as a woman for the first time, when she photographs the party for The Mask Project, a benefit for the Denver Hospice.

“I’m definitely excited,” she said. “It’s something I never thought would be possible, because I thought people would hate me or make fun of me.”

Five years after opening up to Debbie, Stevie is no longer afraid to let everyone know, in the hopes of helping other transgender people.

“I’ve gained confidence,” she said, “by telling one person at a time. All the people that matter are supportive, and anyone who comes along that is not supportive, I think they will be drowned out by all the support.”

Colleen O’Connor: 303-954-1083 or coconnor@denverpost.com

More info:

Stevie Crecelius can be contacted directly at stevie@wonderworks studios.com.

Support groups or further information can be found through Gender Identity Center of Colorado, 303-202-6466 or gicofcolo.org.