by Sarah Havan
“I think you’ve always had slight breasts, but your pregnancy hormones increased their size, and they might get larger. And since it seems you went through puberty at an older age, I’m going to say late in high school, they start out small. Just mosquito bites and sometimes, they’ll be tender, and then they grow larger over time.” So pretty much the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear.
“Oh, great.”
“That doesn’t mean always.”
“My brain is on overload. I need to know so much, but all I keep thinking is I’m pregnant. How stupid was I to let it go this long? I mean look at my stomach. Thank God it wasn’t really a tumor or something because I’d probably be dead in a few days.”
“Your stomach is quite pronounced for only being just over twelve weeks, but you didn’t know. I’m sure the thought never crossed your mind. But you should take better care of yourself health wise.” Now she sounded like Conrad.
“Yeah, I got that now. But you pretty much said my stomach is ginormous for how far along I am.” It now felt like this huge weight. Carrying around how different I was than everyone else right there on the front of my body.
“Ginormous isn’t quite the proper term. Some people carry their babies differently. And you have a small frame, so sometimes, it becomes much more apparent.” The past couple of days it kept coming back to my smallness: my small penis, my small frame, my small boobs.
“Now, I want you to lay back and scoot your butt to the edge of the table.”
“Okay,” I said, lying back.
Then she pulled out the stirrups. “I want you to put your feet up in these. I might have to do some adjusting once you get them in there.”
I put my feet up in them, and I felt so exposed and began to tremble. It kept getting more real and scarier. Conrad took my hand and squeezed his fingers between mine.
“I’m going to raise them up and push them back. I want to make sure I have good access to your anus.”
“Is it like this for everyone?” I asked.
“I need your legs a bit further back than my regular patients because the area I need to examine is lower. If these aren’t comfortable for you, you can hold your legs back if you’d like.”
“I think this is okay.” I really didn’t think it was. It was kind of uncomfortable and a whole lot of awkward.
She started her exam. Finger up my ass once more. “I am feeling for your cervix and you might feel some pressure. I’m going to take a little culture sample and do a pap smear, too.”
Conrad smiled down at me and petted my hair. Down below I felt some weird pressure and a bit of stinging.
“How are your breasts feeling? I was informed you said they were quite sore,” she said while still with things in my ass.
“Yeah,” I said, wincing as I felt a weird scraping feeling inside me.
“Unfortunately, they’ll be like that until after you deliver. You might want to get a nice lined bra or sports bra. It might help with that.” She sat up and placed the instruments she used on a tray and pulled off her gloves.
“Oh, God.”
“It’s normal. Even after the baby is delivered, they’ll be sore for a while, and if you decide to breastfeed, you might experience some nipple pain in the beginning,” she said, helping me take my feet down from the stirrups.
“I’ll be able to breastfeed?”
“Yes, I believe so.” She held out her hand and helped pull me up to sitting.
“I know this sounds awful, but I’ll look like such a woman.”
“You don’t have to breastfeed. I know you have a lot on your plate with this. But it’s good to decide these things early on sometimes.”
“Like what else?” I asked. There was too much to think and do. My brain was sure to have some sort of meltdown soon if I didn’t have one first.
“Where you want to deliver, birthing classes.”
“But I thought I couldn’t deliver the baby.”
“You’ll need a cesarean, but it’s still a delivery.”
“So why do I need birthing classes then?” I asked.
“If you go into labor before your scheduled cesarean, it’ll be a good idea to become familiar with breathing techniques.”
My heart thudded hard. “This all sounds so scary.”
“You have no reason to be scared. You’ll be great. Okay, now I’m going to write you a couple prescriptions. One for prenatal vitamins and one for some antibiotics. These aren’t harmful during pregnancy or to the baby.”
“What do I need antibiotics for?” I asked.
“Since your vaginal canal is off of your rectum, we need to be aware of bacteria. Your prescription should be ready to pick up in about twenty minutes.” Well, that went and made everything sound even worse.
“When you leave, check in with the front desk so they can schedule your next appointment. And congrats. If you think of any more questions, just call the office.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I made my next appointment, and we headed to the store to pick up my prescriptions. “I have to call my mom. What is she going to think?” The thought made bile rise in the back of my throat. I had to tell my mom that her nineteen-year-old son was pregnant.
“First thing, she might mention is that you had unprotected sex.”
“It shouldn’t have resulted in this, though.”
“Do you feel happy at all about this?” Conrad asked.
“I’m still in a bit of shock, but I don’t know, it’s kind of amazing in a way, too,” I said. That’s if I pushed away all the fear, anxiety, the what if’s, and thought about the fact that I was a pregnant man, and then yes, it was kind of amazing.
“It’s very amazing, Mason.”
And I started crying again because even though it was amazing, I was still pregnant, so very really pregnant.
Chapter Nineteen
Conrad
I got my best friend pregnant.
We were going to be dads.
Two shocking things we learned in just a couple of days.
Oh, and that Mason was also intersex, but that wasn’t as shocking as the other two. Not that it was something that I suspected or anything. A lot of people are intersex and don’t know, so he was just one of them.
Since I got the news that I couldn’t pitch anymore, I was always so concerned about being a nobody, just some ordinary person in a sea of other bland people, living boring lives. But hell, that changed. My life became so unordinary pretty much overnight. I went to class later that day after Mason’s OBGYN appointment because he seemed like he needed some space and not have me breathing down his neck constantly, asking how he was doing. But paying attention to my professor carry on was almost impossible for me. I kept thinking about how we were going to raise a baby.
How we’d be able to go to school and manage it all.
How maybe I’d have to drop out of school so I could support us.
How we were going to have to tell our parents.
There was just so much. I put a hand on my chest and breathed in and out, trying to calm myself down because my chest started to tighten thinking about it all.
After class, I went and picked up some food.
Hungry?” I asked, carrying the bag of food into our room.
Mason lay curled up in a ball on his bed.
“I’m starving, and now I know why I’ve been so hungry.” He put his hands over his face.
“Here, eat,” I said pulling out the containers of food. I cracked one open, some garlic dish, and Mason held his stomach and covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh crap,” I said, running across the room and scooping up the garbage can. He grabbed it from me and barfed inside.
I took the can when he finished and handed him a napkin. “The smell,” he said.
“Baby didn’t like it, huh?”
Mason let out a little mewl sound.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” I said, wanting to wrap him in my arms and comfort him. But I stood there holding a can
of his puke.
“I’m pregnant, Conrad. Nothing will ever be okay again.”
“We’ll get through it. Take it one day at a time.”
Mason put his hand on his stomach and lay back. I couldn’t help but smile. While the whole situation was pretty-anxiety inducing, it still made my heart feel light. I bent down and kissed his belly.
“Want me to get you something else to eat?” I asked, making a note to stop getting any food with strong odors for the time being.
“Cake,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You want cake?”
“Yes, but first, I have to go rinse my mouth. Give me that, I’ll go wash it out.” He sat up and reached for the garbage can.
“I’ll go with you. I don’t want your barf to make you barf again.”
“Being pregnant is gross,” he said, getting up off the bed. I stepped in close in front of him and cupped his chin, making him look at me, all while trying to ignore the garbage can I held.
“It’s not. It’s natural and beautiful.”
“How are you so calm in all of this?” Mason asked.
“I thought I was about to have a panic attack in class earlier, but I don’t know. It somehow seems so right.”
“You getting me pregnant?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go dump that before it does make me barf again, and I’m beginning to question what you’ve been smoking.”
When we got back to the room, Mason sat down on his bed with tears building in his eyes.
“I know this is hard, but I know you’re strong,” I said, sitting down next to him and throwing my arm over his shoulder.
“I have to call my mom and tell her.”
“I know your mom, she’ll be nothing but supportive.”
Mason turned and looked at me. “What about you?”
“Me what?”
“Telling your parents.”
I blew out a breath. “I have to build up the courage. They don’t even know I’m gay.”
“Take your time. It feels like my heart is about to jump out of my throat, and I’m just calling my mom who is pretty damn great.” He squeezed my knee and forced a smile.
My breathing quickened, thinking about telling them. “Whereas my parents, not so much.”
“I don’t want to say they’re not great, but…” Mason bobbed his head from side to side.
“They’re narrow-minded assholes.” That pretty much summed up their view on most things.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Mason was always too nice.
“They think their sons are supposed to be these testosterone-driven alpha males. Look at me I’m such a man type of person. And to them, being gay is not on the same plane as that. Trust me, I’ve heard the things they’ve said.”
“There are plenty of gay guys like that, though,” Mason said, his voice soft and reassuring.
“Tell that to them.”
Mason’s shoulders slumped. “And add in the best friend you got pregnant.”
“So, like you said, I’m going to need to take my time with this.”
Mason tossed his arms around my waist. “I’m sorry. I keep thinking about myself, and this is major life-changing for you, too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You have every reason to be wrapped up in yourself. You’re having a baby.”
“You are, too.”
“You’re carrying it, going to give birth to it. I shouldn’t say it, the baby.” Our baby. I was still reeling from the fact that I was going to be a dad.
“Because surprise, I have a working uterus.”
I rubbed Mason’s back. “If it helps, you’re not the first man to ever be pregnant. There’s that one guy. I think he’s up to three kids now.”
“Nope, doesn’t help much, but thanks. I’m still in a bit of shock here.”
“So you know, I think you’re perfect,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Mason lay his head on my shoulder. “Thanks.”
Chapter Twenty
Mason
At the doctor’s yet again. This time Dr. Adamson, the general practitioner I first saw.
“How did you come to the conclusion that I was intersex so quick? Every year of my life I have gone for an annual checkup. No one has ever said anything besides delayed puberty.” The doctor sat on a stool in front of his computer, and Conrad and I sat side by side. I knew I couldn’t do it without him, any of it—the doctors’ visits, handling the news. He was my rock.
“We have an endocrinologist on staff here, and recently she gave a presentation on developmental endocrinology. And here she is now. Dr. Matthews is going to sit down and discuss things with you.” He stood and waved the endocrinologist over to his stool.
“Hello, Mason. Nice to meet you.” she held out her hand and smiled at me.
“Hi,” I said, shaking her hand with my visibly trembling one.
“She’ll take it from here,” Dr. Adamson said.
“Thank you,” Dr. Matthews said as Dr. Adamson left. She then focused her eyes on me. “After we talk, we’ll do an exam if that’s all right with you.”
“I’ve already had a couple of those. He even gave me one.” I pointed over my shoulder to the door that Dr. Adamson left out of.
“If you’ll let me, I’d like to examine you myself. It will help me a lot with your diagnosis.”
“Diagnosis?” I asked, gulping. Conrad reached over and squeezed my knee.
“To determine which exact intersex condition you may have.” She offered a friendly smile that reached her gray-blue eyes and showed her bright white teeth.
“Does it really matter? Up until the day before yesterday, everything was just fine.”
“Not quite. You came in for a reason,” she said with a slight nod.
“Diagnosis makes it sound like I have some illness. Are you all not telling me something?”
“With certain intersex conditions, other disorders come along with them. If not now, down the line.”
“Like what other disorders?” It all made me want to curl into a ball and never come out. There was so much more new stuff every minute of the day it seemed.
“Diabetes, high blood pressure to name a couple. My main concern is your health and the health of your baby. We’ll check if you have any adrenal problems. If you have Congenital Adrenal Disorder, you may not make enough cortisol, and we’ll come across problems when you deliver your baby.”
“Why?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck, suddenly feeling very hot.
“Those with low cortisol levels don’t fare well in trauma or extreme stress. We’ll have to take some blood tests, run a chromosome test, and a couple others to come to a full diagnosis,” Dr. Matthews said so calmly like it was all no big deal.
“Why a chromosome test?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“So we can find our if you have XX or XY chromosomes or a chromosomal disorder.”
“You mean female or male?”
“Yes, or a combination,” she said. Well, that was just great.
“So, you all doing this means that you guys think I might not have male chromosomes.”
“Correct.”
Conrad took my hand in his. I crushed his in response. What I needed was a stress ball.
“That would mean … no. Wait. Would that mean I’m actually a girl?”
“Genetically, yes. We’re just talking chromosomes in that regard. But really, you’re an intersex person with male and female characteristics.”
“Do we have to do the chromosome test? Can’t I just not know?” Maybe life would be better if I went on pretending I didn’t ever hear anything she told me.
“It would be very helpful if you took it, but we can’t make you do anything.”
I blew out a long breath.
“But we’ll get to the tests. First, I’d like to talk about your ultrasound and what you’ve been through so far.”
“Okay.”
“As you n
ow know, you have fully functioning female reproductive organs. No testes, but you do have a prostate, and your vesicular glands are partially formed. Tell me about your ejaculate.” My life had turned into a series of embarrassing questions.
“Um, like what about it?” I glanced from her to Conrad and back to her, my cheeks and ears burning.
“Do you produce ejaculate?”
“Yeah, but not a lot.”
“That makes sense. More than likely, when you ejaculate, it only contains fluid from the prostate since your seminal vesicles are not fully formed and a low sperm count since you only have one ovotestis. And Dr. Adamson also made a note regarding your penis.”
“It keeps coming back to that.”
“He noted that it is under average in size.”
I slumped back in my chair. “Oh, dear God. Yes, I have a small penis.” Before the end of the week, it was possible that whole world would become informed on my penis size.
“Depending on your condition, it might not actually be a penis.”
“Then what the heck is it?” I asked. It never looked like anything but a penis to me.
“It could be a virilized clitoris.”
“This just keeps getting worse and worse.”
“We don’t know if that’s the case yet. Ready for your exam?”
“I suppose.” I wanted to get it over with so I could get out of there.
“All right. If you change into your gown for me, that’d be wonderful.”
A few minutes after I changed into what couldn’t even be considered a gown, just a paper top that opened in the front and a giant blanket like napkin to cover the rest of me, Dr. Matthews knocked on the door and came back in, a nurse following her. I sat up on the table, and Dr. Matthews looked at my chart on the computer screen and kept glancing over at me.
She pulled on some gloves and started at my neck. “You’re Adam’s apple is quite small, which is to be expected since you display low levels of testosterone, and now, I’m going to slip open the top of your gown for a moment.”
I nodded and shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out.
“Doing okay?” she asked. I nodded again, and she continued. “Small breasts that could still be developing. No chest hair. Slight build. Now lay back and put your feet flat on the table, knees pointing to the sky.”
