The Hospital Says I'm a Pregnant Man

During the compulsory medical exam for freshmen when I start university, I am told I'm pregnant. The hospital demands four thousand dollars for prenatal tests and another 15 thousand dollars for pregnancy management. When I refuse to pay, they threaten to have me expelled from the university. I grit my teeth and pay the 19 thousand dollars. I'm also required to go back for prenatal checkups every month. The day before my due date, the hospital tells me to get admitted and prepare for delivery. The next morning, the doctor tells me I can leave. Then, I receive a notification from my bank stating that a delivery fee of ten thousand dollars has been deducted from my account. I laugh and call the police. "The hospital performed an illegal gender reassignment surgery on me. They made me, a man, give birth!" Seriously, I told them from the start that I'm a male student. Chapter 1 "Andy Linden. 12 weeks pregnant. Positive." I stared at that line on my medical report, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was a freshman who had just started at a private university in the city last week. The university required all incoming students to undergo a physical exam at a designated hospital, supposedly as part of a smart healthcare partnership. That morning, all I'd done was have some blood drawn and get an ultrasound. In the afternoon, I'd been informed that I was three months pregnant and had to immediately pay for prenatal tests and pregnancy management. "Ma'am, there must be a mistake on the report, right?" I clutched the report as I stood at the payment window. I continued in a perplexed tone, "I'm a guy, and I'm single. I've never even dated anyone. How could I possibly be pregnant?" The nurse behind the counter was applying lipstick. She impatiently snatched the report from my hand. "Can't you read? Your HCG levels are abnormally high, and the ultrasound shows a gestational sac in your uterus. Under the terms of the university's healthcare agreement, students with early-stage pregnancies have to pay four thousand dollars for prenatal testing and 15 thousand dollars for pregnancy management. Card or cash?" I almost choked from shock. "What gestational sac? I'm a man! The only thing in my stomach is the chicken and vegetables I had for lunch!" The nurse finally looked up. However, she looked at me as if I were a student trying to argue my way out of trouble. She said impatiently, "Young lady, I've seen plenty of students pretending they weren't pregnant. You're the first one I've seen pretending to be a guy. The test results are right here. If you can't keep your legs closed, don't stand here pretending you're innocent." My ears burned with anger, and my whole body trembled. I'd always had somewhat feminine features. I'd also been growing my hair out because I wanted a shaggy wolf cut. People had mistaken me for a girl before, but being accused of being pregnant was a first. I reasoned with her, saying, "You made a mistake. If you don't believe me, run the tests again. Don't you think I'd know whether I'm pregnant?" The nurse's expression darkened as she slapped the report down on the counter. "I've seen plenty of students like you. You lie without batting an eye. Then, when your belly starts showing, you'll come back crying. You want another test? Fine. It's 1,250 dollars. Card or cash?" 1,250 dollars! That was my entire monthly living allowance. Spending a month's worth of living expenses just to prove I wasn't pregnant was absurd. I kept my voice low and forced the words out through clenched teeth. "I'm not joking, ma'am. There's no way I'm pregnant. I have class this afternoon. I don't have time to argue with you." The nurse crossed her arms and smirked, her voice turning shrill. "Who's arguing with you?" She tapped the report with one finger, emphasizing every word. "You, Andy Linden, are 12 weeks pregnant. It's positive. You hid an early pregnancy when you enrolled. The physical exam exposed what you've been up to, and now you have the nerve to stand here and make a scene?" She shot me a sideways glance, her eyes sweeping over my lower abdomen before she let out a quiet laugh. Several people waiting to pay turned around and stared at me judgmentally. "Kids these days are so free-spirited. She just got into university, and she's already sleeping around." "Look at her. She probably doesn't even know who the father is." "Exactly. What's with the innocent act?" Their whispers burrowed into my ears. My clenched fists trembled with rage. A surge of anger rushed through me. I pulled out my phone and paid the 1,250 dollars to have another physical exam. There was no way a hospital this big could fail to determine that I was a man. Soon, the new report was in my hands. "12 weeks pregnant. Positive." As I stared at those words, my mind went completely blank. It wasn't a misdiagnosis. They'd done it on purpose! They knew I wasn't pregnant, but they were deliberately leveling this accusation at me so that they could extort money from me. My hands shook so badly that I could barely keep hold of the report. I stormed into the examination center. The glass door rattled loudly as I shoved it open, and I slammed the report onto the doctor's desk. I seethed, "You did this on purpose! I'm a man. How could I possibly be pregnant?" Michael Little looked up from his computer and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "Ma'am, our equipment just passed its annual inspection, and our procedures are standardized according to state requirements. There is no way the test results could be wrong. "You're young and inexperienced. Early pregnancy symptoms aren't always obvious, so it's perfectly normal not to notice them yourself." He paused, his eyes sweeping over my face. There was a trace of amused exasperation in his voice. He went on, "Besides, you're a young woman. Why are you pretending to be a man? The sex you listed when you registered for the physical is clearly recorded in the hospital system. If there's been any misunderstanding, it's because you weren't honest with us. I'd advise you to pay the fees as soon as possible. It'll be better for both you and the baby." "I'm not pregnant! Why should I pay anything?" I shouted in fury. Michael leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You're refusing to pay? Fine. The university regulations are very clear. Any pregnant student who refuses to pay the pregnancy management fee will be expelled from the university. "After all, if something happens, the university can't be held responsible. Think carefully. Are you going to pay, or are you going to leave the university?" I froze. So the university and the hospital were in on it together. Chapter 2 I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. My parents had died when I was young. It was my grandmother who had raised me and paid for my education all by herself. The day my acceptance letter arrived, she was so happy that she treated the whole village to a feast. If I dropped out now, I'd have to retake the university entrance exam. That would set me back an entire year. Ever since I was little, people back home had said that I was feminine. If word got around that I was "pregnant" now, they'd probably say I'd transitioned into a woman and gotten pregnant with some bastard's child. God knew what they'd say! With my grandmother's health, she might collapse from the shock alone. So, I couldn't drop out of university. I stared at the unruffled doctor in front of me, my mind racing. Slowly, an idea began to take shape. "I'm sorry, Dr. Little. I was too upset just now." I lowered my head and softened my tone. "I came here from a small town. I don't know how any of this works. Since the tests say I'm pregnant, I'll cooperate." Michael raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting me to come around eventually. "Good. I'm glad you've seen reason." He glanced at his watch and tapped his fingers against the desk. Then, he said, "We get off at 5:00 pm. You have 40 minutes left. If you don't pay by the end of the day, I'll have to notify your university." 40 minutes… I pulled out my phone. My bank balance was 1,523.60 dollars. The next moment, I gritted my teeth and started making calls. "Hey, can you lend me 2,500 dollars? Yeah, I need it urgently. Something happened at university..." "Ms. Zimmerman, it's Andy. Is there any way I can get my scholarship money early?" "Hello, is this the installment loan department? I'd like to apply for a credit line..." Every time someone lent me money, I felt a pang in my heart. 19 thousand dollars was enough to cover my tuition and living expenses for an entire year. But now, because of one absurd medical exam, I was about to pour all of it into this bottomless pit of a hospital. The minute hand on the wall seemed to fly. Finally, with only a minute left, I'd scraped together the full amount. My finger hovered over the payment button for three seconds before I tapped confirm. The POS machine spit out a receipt. I held the flimsy slip of paper in my hand, still finding it hard to believe that any of this was real. Michael seemed to be in a good mood. He clicked around on his computer a few times and said, "All set. Come back for a follow-up every month from now on." I looked at the computer in front of him and spoke in an unusually calm voice. "Could you set up my pregnancy file?" Michael frowned and asked, "Do you want to create a file with us?" I gave him a shy smile, looking like an innocent, clueless university student. "Yes. Since the tests say I'm pregnant, I should probably be careful. I'll be counting on you to manage my pregnancy from here on out." Michael studied me suspiciously for a moment. But the look in my eyes was absolutely naïve and harmless, so he didn't press further. He said, "Fine. There are additional services once the file is created. You'll have to pay for those yourself." I smiled and nodded, watching him enter my information. "Name: Andy Linden. "Age: 18. "Pregnancy: 12 weeks. "Due date: March 15." With that, my file was created, and I'd signed up for their pregnancy management services. I stared at the due date on the screen and gave an icy laugh inwardly. Over the next few months, I became the hospital's most cooperative "pregnant woman" and the busiest student on campus. To pay back the 19 thousand dollars I'd borrowed, I took on three part-time jobs at once. My life consisted of nothing but classes, work, and sleep. I was running on a brutal cycle. While everyone else played sports, gamed with friends, and went out for meals, I ate the cheapest meals in the cafeteria. Fortunately, I managed to make ends meet, though just barely. Every month, I showed up for my prenatal checkup right on schedule. Each time, I carefully recorded the baby's development data. At 13 weeks, I went in for my nuchal translucency screening. The nurse moved the ultrasound probe back and forth across my perfectly flat stomach. The screen was almost completely black, but she pointed at a vague shadow. She said, "This is the baby's nuchal translucency. Everything looks perfectly normal." I tilted my head and nodded earnestly. "Good. So the baby is healthy." At 18 weeks, I had blood drawn for the genetic screening. I watched the nurse label three tubes of blood. I saw "Low risk for trisomy 21" and "Low risk for trisomy 18". I patted my chest in relief. "You scared me. Thank goodness everything's fine." At 24 weeks, I went in for a detailed ultrasound. Michael stared intently at the screen, pointing things out with great seriousness. "Look. Here's the little hand, and here's the foot. The baby is very active." I leaned closer. All I could see on the screen was a blurry gray blob. A blissful smile appeared on my face as I said, "That's wonderful. The baby looks just like me." At first, Michael remained wary. Eventually, though, he completely let his guard down. He even started to think there might be something wrong with me, because every time I came in, I would ask questions very earnestly. I had asked, "How's the baby's movement? Should I be taking more folic acid?" Because I was so cooperative, the hospital even gave me an "Outstanding Prenatal Patient" card, which entitled me to a 20% discount on delivery later. "Ms. Linden, you're a model user of our smart healthcare system. A lot of pregnant women don't come in on schedule, but you haven't missed a single appointment." I smiled and nodded. But actually I was counting down the days. There were four weeks left. Chapter 3 Every time I went to the hospital, I played the role of the most devoted first-time mother. During my prenatal checkups, I held a notebook and carefully wrote down every instruction, while my phone quietly recorded everything from inside my pocket. At the payment window, I pestered the nurses until they gave me itemized receipts with all the necessary stamps. I would say, "Ma'am, I need to keep these for reimbursement." In the ultrasound room, I begged Michael to print out the images. I lovingly ran my fingers over the blurry gray shapes and said, "I want to make a scrapbook of the baby's growth. Then, I can show it to him after he's born." There were more than half a year's worth of prenatal records, payment receipts, and ultrasound images. I kept everything in a file folder. It grew thicker and thicker. Two weeks before my due date, the hospital's attitude toward me suddenly changed. When I went in for a checkup, the nurses were no longer eager to help. Instead, they acted as if I were a hot potato they desperately wanted to avoid. In the ultrasound room, Michael spent less and less time looking at the screen. Once, he even turned the machine off and hesitated before speaking. "Ms. Linden, our hospital is actually short on beds right now. Why don't you consider giving birth at another hospital?" I rubbed my perfectly flat stomach, looking completely innocent. "Transfer? Why? My entire medical file is here! Besides, the hospital gave me a discount card. I get 20% off." Michael's expression stiffened, and he said nothing more. I knew exactly what they were thinking. With my due date approaching, they were more nervous than I was. What were they going to do when the day of delivery actually arrived? There was nothing inside my stomach. They couldn't exactly cut me open and pull out a "baby" from somewhere. One week before my due date, I deliberately went to find Michael. He was packing his briefcase when I walked in. When he saw me, he instinctively frowned. I said, "Michael, I'm due next week, and I'm still a little scared. I was hoping to book a... better delivery package." My voice trembled as I fidgeted with my fingers, pretending to be embarrassed. "A better delivery package?" Michael repeated. "Yes." I looked up at him with eager anticipation. "I want the most expensive and advanced option. Money isn't a problem. I just want the best for my baby." The air went completely still for two seconds. Then, Michael's eyes lit up, and his grin stretched from ear to ear. "Ms. Linden, you really are... one of our hospital's VIP clients! Don't worry. We offer water births, private midwives, postpartum recovery, rooming-in for mothers and babies..." He pulled out a brochure and eagerly flipped through it, pointing out one service after another. I observed his enthusiasm and slowly smiled. Soon, March 14 came. It was one day before my due date. I had just finished class when the hospital called to say, "Ms. Linden, tomorrow is your due date. You need to be admitted today for delivery. We've reserved a private deluxe room for you. Please come in as soon as possible to complete the admission process." I went back to my dorm and packed my things. That evening, I arrived at St. Rufus Hospital right on schedule with my maternity bag. A nurse enthusiastically led me to my room. The sheets were fresh, carrying a faint scent of disinfectant mixed with air freshener. She efficiently checked my blood pressure and listened to my heartbeat, her expression focused and professional. At the end, she even hooked me up to an "oxytocin drip". Clear liquid dripped slowly through the IV. I knew it was nothing more than saline. I lay in bed, resting my hand over my flat stomach, and drifted into a deep sleep. On March 15, at 8:00 am, Michael came in for his rounds. He glanced at me and said, "Andy, you can go home." I slowly sat up and rubbed my sleepy eyes. "Huh? What about my baby?" He frowned as if he were looking at a lunatic. "What baby? What are you talking about?" I smiled and pulled my medical records from beneath my pillow. "I'm here to give birth. Today's my due date. You just told me I could go home, so where's my baby?" Michael's face turned pale, and his voice grew shaky. "I don't know what you're talking about. The tests show that you're perfectly healthy. You can be discharged." Just then, my phone buzzed with a bank notification. "St. Rufus Hospital charged you a delivery fee of ten thousand dollars. Your remaining balance is 523.60 dollars." I stared at the screen and laughed in disbelief. I raised my phone and waved it in front of him, my voice beginning to tremble. "I already paid the delivery fee. You hooked me up to an oxytocin drip. I endured all those contractions. And now you're telling me... Where's my baby?" I glared at him, my eyes turning red as my voice suddenly turned shrill. "You illegally performed surgery on me, made me pregnant, and made me give birth! Where did you take my baby?" Michael was visibly shaken by my demeanor. His face turned even paler. He took half a step back and spoke in a trembling voice. "Don't make a scene! This is a hospital. Mind yourself, or I'll send you to the psychiatric ward!" "The psychiatric ward?" I stopped and repeated the words softly. I pulled my phone out from beneath my pillow and dialed a number right in front of him. "Hello, I'd like to report a crime." I looked up at Michael's pale face, my voice calm and deliberate. "St. Rufus Hospital illegally performed surgery on me and made me give birth to a baby even though I'm a man!"