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Wellness

My friend shared what it was like to be pregnant as a transgender man in the Deep South

My friend shared what it was like to be pregnant as a transgender man in the Deep South
Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

When people think of the Deep South, especially in states like Mississippi, most people don't imagine a diverse and accepting way of life. People always look at me as if I've suddenly sprouted a unicorn horn when I reminisce on my time living in Biloxi and the eclectic people I've met there, many of whom I call friends. I often find myself explaining that there are two distinct Mississippis—the closer you get to the water, the more liberal it gets. If you were to look at an election map, you'd see that the coast is pretty deeply purple while the rest of the state is fire engine red.

It's also important to note that in a way, I remember my time in Biloxi from a place of privilege that some of my friends do not possess. It may be strange to think of privilege when it comes from a Black woman in an interracial marriage, but being cisgendered is a privilege that I am afforded through no doing of my own. I became acutely aware of this privilege when my friend who happens to be a transgender man announced that he was expecting a child with his partner. I immediately felt a duty to protect, which in a perfect world would not have been my first reaction.

It was in that moment that I realized that I was viewing the world through my lens as a cisgendered woman who is outwardly in a heteronormative relationship. I have discovered that through writing, you can change the narrative people perceive, so I thought it would be a good idea to sit down with my friend—not only to check in with his feelings, but to aid in dissolving the "otherness" that people place upon transgender people.


In my efforts to protect my friend, I deliberately withheld this interview until I was able to ensure that it would be published with a platform that honored the narratives of marginalized people. I have also changed his name at his request to allow for a more uninhibited conversation. He did not have to take the time to educate me or allow me to put his experience out into the world, but he agreed that the more stories like this that are out there, the more hope there is that things will change in the future.

In order to be perfectly clear for people who may not understand the term transgender man, a transgender man is someone who was born with female sex organs, but identifies as a male. Some transgender men have not hormonally and surgically transitioned to their identified sex, some have begun hormones and not completed surgeries, while others may have completed the hormone treatment as well as sex reassignment surgery. No matter where they are in the process, they are considered transgender men.

Most of this interview was conducted via email and messenger. For the purposes of this interview my friend will be referred to as "Collin," and some questions and answers have been shortened or edited for clarity.

Jacalyn: When did you decide to have children and was your family supportive?

Collin: My life partner (who is also transgender, but not completely out yet) and I decided to try for kids very soon after we got engaged. I wanted kids before I met her, but I didn't think I was able to have them, or honestly didn't think I'd find someone to have a family with. It's very hard dating, but even harder in the LGBTQI community. Especially if you're transgender. My Mawmaw was thrilled. At first she continued to call me by my preferred male pronouns, but eventually started almost trying to convince me that my pregnancy would make me want to detransition. She then started calling me by my female pronouns, even when corrected. My sister didn't really seem thrilled at first, but I know she was mostly concerned about my gender dysphoria and how it would affect my mental state. She's always been my number one supporter. My in-laws didn't react much. They've never been supportive of my of my identity even before pregnancy. They think I've detransitioned.

Jacalyn: Was it difficult to find an accepting OBGYN that you felt comfortable with in Mississippi?

Collin: I didn't feel comfortable trying to find an accepting OBGYN. When I went to the OB, I picked the sign up paper based on my gender identity and my orientation. So I put down transgender and bisexual. When I spoke to the nurse practitioner, she said "Oh we don't deal with that here. Those questions might be for next door." I didn't have time to look for an accepting doctor because my health insurance was limited to only a handful.

Jacalyn: Did you feel you had to misgender yourself or allow yourself to be misgendered to receive appropriate treatment?

Collin: I tried to correct people, but it got to the point where they didn't seem to care, so I felt the need to misgender myself. Once I became pregnant, even more people who have known me since I came out even proceeded to misgender me, and my family members tried to convince me to detransition.

Jacalyn: Did people treat you differently as you walked through the world as a pregnant man?

Collin: I definitely got treated differently. People never really saw me as a man or woman but once I became pregnant it was different. Especially in the workforce. There was a lot of heavy movement and I was at risk since I had 3 miscarriages prior.

Jacalyn: You worked throughout a good portion of your pregnancy, do you feel your employer and coworkers treated you fairly?

Collin: Once they found out I was pregnant, one of my managers tried to tell me to get an abortion. Eventually people began to hold my identity as a man against me when I would need a break or they would follow me outside yelling at me while I was throwing up from morning sickness. This happened repeatedly. They would also make me put up all this heavy stuff over my head saying things like "You're a man, ain't ya. Men don't make excuses." Eventually I was made to use the women's restroom at work for my safety. I brought countless notes to work from my OB but I was still treated like sh*t. I couldn't work around busy people because coworkers would elbow me and push me in the stomach and nothing was ever done about it.

Jacalyn: Where did you find the most support?

Collin: I found the most support with my life partner. I didn't find a good online support group until I was postpartum, but I found a motivational speaker who has a Facebook page called Biff and I. He and his life partner had a child and he was further into his transition than I. It made me emotional to see his video about his experience being an open pregnant trans man and how ugly people were to him. I ended up messaging his page and he eventually got back to me with a very supportive group that I joined. I found most of my chestfeeding support came from my sister and grandma, as well as my life partner. I'm currently a year and nine days into chest feeding and I'm about to start weaning soon.

Jacalyn: What about support at the hospital?

Collin: The one good experience I had during my hospitalization before my son's birth. One of my nurses asked me if I preferred a different name and it made me so happy. I think she guessed or maybe heard one of my guests ask for me by my chosen name. Either way my two nurses before I got moved to postpartum were so awesome.

Jacalyn: Do you plan on adding any more children?

Collin: We don't have plans for any more children at this time. I'm on the nexplanon implant and my life partner started hormone replacement therapy for her transition back in March. I plan to also begin my hormone therapy by the end of the year if my son has been weaned. I only wanted one child. I don't know if that makes me selfish because I won't give him siblings, but we're happy with our little family.

Jacalyn: Is there anything I missed that you feel like people should know to help become a better ally?

Collin: Every transgender person is different. This is my story and my need to feel supported and safe. Just keep being an ally. Correct people if you have to so they don't continue to misgender others. The more people you have correcting someone, eventually they'll get it.

After speaking with Collin it's clear that his experience of carrying and birthing a child involved parts a cisgender person would not have to endure, due to the world be set up to recognize cisgender as "normal." It's time we start acknowledging people for who they are as fellow humans. Using words like "tolerate" and "lifestyle" when describing the LGBTQI community makes it seem as if they're making an unpleasant choice, instead of what it really is—living their truth, just like their cisgendered heterosexual counterparts.

Gen Zer asks how people got around without GPS, Gen X responds

It's easy to forget what life was like before cell phones fit in your pocket and Google could tell you the meaning of life in less than .2 seconds. Gen Z is the first generation to be born after technology began to move faster than most people can blink. They never had to deal with the slow speeds and loud noises of dial up internet.

In fact, most people that fall in the Gen Z category have no idea that their parents burned music on a CD thinking that was peak mix tape technology. Oh, how wrong they were. Now songs live in a cloud but somehow come out of your phone without having to purchase the entire album or wait until the radio station plays the song so you can record it.

But Gen Z has never lived that struggle so the idea of things they consider to be basic parts of life not existing are baffling to them. One self professed Gen Zer, Aneisha, took to social media to ask a question that has been burning on her mind–how did people travel before GPS?

Now, if you're older than Gen Z–whose oldest members are just 27 years old–then you likely know the answer to the young whippersnapper's question. But even some Millennials had trouble answering Aneisha's question as several people matter of factly pointed to Mapquest. A service that requires–you guessed it, the internet.

Aneisha asks in her video, "Okay, serious question. How did people get around before the GPS? Like, did you guys actually pull a map and like draw lines to your destination? But then how does that work when you're driving by yourself, trying to hold up the map and drive? I know it's Gen Z of me but I kind of want to know."

@aneishaaaaaaaaaaa I hope this reaches the right people, i want to know
♬ original sound - aneishaaaaaaa

These are legitimate questions for someone who has never known life without GPS. Even when most Millennials were starting to drive, they had some form of internet to download turn-by-turn directions, so it makes sense that the cohort between Gen Z and Gen X would direct Aneisha to Mapquest. But there was a time before imaginary tiny pirates lived inside of computer screens to point you in the right direction and tales from those times are reserved for Gen X.

The generation known for practically raising themselves chimed in, not only to sarcastically tell Millennials to sit down but to set the record straight on what travel was like before the invention of the internet. Someone clearly unamused by younger folks' suggestion shares, "The people saying mapquest. There was a time before the internet kids."

Others are a little more helpful, like one person who writes, "You mentally note landmarks, intersections. Pretty easy actually," they continue. "stop at a gas station, open map in the store, ($4.99), put it back (free)."

"Believe it or not, yes we did use maps back then. We look at it before we leave, then take small glances to see what exits to take," someone says, which leaves Aneisha in disbelief, replying, "That's crazyy, I can't even read a map."

"Pulled over and asked the guy at the gas station," one person writes as another chimes in under the comment, "and then ask the guy down the street to make sure you told me right."

Imagine being a gas station attendant in the 90s while also being directionally challenged. Was that part of the hiring process, memorizing directions for when customers came in angry or crying because they were lost? Not knowing where you were going before the invention of the internet was also a bit of a brain exercise laced with exposure therapy for those with anxiety. There were no cell phones so if you were lost no one who cared about you would know until you could find a payphone to check in.

The world is so overly connected today that the idea of not being able to simply share your location with loved ones and "Ask Siri" when you've gotten turned around on your route seems dystopian. But in actuality, if you took a few teens from 1993 and plopped them into 2024 they'd think they were living inside of a sci-fi movie awaiting aliens to invade.

Technology has made our lives infinitely easier and nearly unrecognizable from the future most could've imagined before the year 2000, so it's not Gen Z's fault that they're unaware of how the "before times" were. They're simply a product of their generation.

This article originally appeared last year.

Health

Woman uses her super sense of smell to help scientists detect Parkinson's in minutes

Joy Milne first smelled the disease on her husband 10 years before his diagnosis.

There is currently no definitive test to detect Parkinson's.

We don’t always choose our gifts. Joy Milne’s superpower, one she inherited from her mother’s side of the family, was having a highly acute sense of smell. Milne might have never used her olfactory talent as a force for good had it not been for her late husband, Les Milne.

According to NPR, Les and Joy met in their teens and it was love at first sniff. "He had a lovely male musk smell. He really did," she told NPR.

After many years of a happy marriage, Joy noticed her husband, then in his 30s, had developed an “overpowering sort of nasty yeast smell.” The running joke-slash-complaint was that Les “wasn’t washing enough.”

Eventually Les’ scent wouldn’t be the only thing to change. Joy told NPR that her once funny, thoughtful husband completely transformed, becoming “moody,” irritable, and even aggressive. He wouldn’t receive a proper Parkinson’s diagnosis until the age of 45.

Joy didn’t suspect that she could somehow detect the disease until going with Les to a Parkinson’s support group and noticing that the same distinctive smell seemed to fill the room. After sharing the discovery with her husband, she knew she had to take action.

Joy began working with researchers at University of Edinburgh and through a series of experiments confirmed that she could sniff out Parkinson’s with flawless accuracy. Now scientists have created a breakthrough method of detection based on Joy’s special ability.

parkinsons

This new test works in mere minutes.

Twitter

Under the belief that Parkinson’s affects a person’s odor due to a chemical change in sebum, or skin oil, doctors simply run a cotton ball along the back of the neck, then identify specific molecules linked to the neurological condition. TheBBC reported that the skin-swab test is 95% accurate under laboratory conditions.

Though this medical advancement is still in its early stages, the discovery is promising. There is currently no definitive test to get a Parkinson’s diagnosis and, as Joy explained to Sky News, it is often not identified until patients have “over 50% of neuronal damage.”

Les died in 2015 at 65. An earlier diagnosis might have provided the opportunity to improve his lifestyle, which could possibly have offset symptoms. “It has been found that exercise and change of diet can make a phenomenal difference,” Joy told The Guardian.

She also recalled to BBC News that it would have meant having an explanation for the mood swings, not to mention traveling, spending more time with family… essentially, making the most out of what time was left. That perhaps is the biggest saving grace an early diagnosis could offer.

Les’ final wish before he passed was for Joy to continue using her gift, assuring that "it will make a difference." Joy is keeping that promise and currently extending her “super smeller” power to help smell other diseases like cancer and tuberculosis (TB).

While she notes that her superpower does make outings like shopping a “curse sometimes,” she also sees it as a “benefit” allowing her to help others.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

via JustusMoms29/TikTok (used with permission)

Justus Stroup is starting to realize her baby's name isn't that common.

One of the many surprises that come with parenthood is how the world reacts to your child’s name. It’s less of a surprise if your child has a common name like John, Mohammed, or Lisa. But if you give your child a non-traditional name that’s gender-neutral, you’re going to throw a lot of folks off-guard and mispronunciations are going to be an issue.

This exact situation happened with TikTok user Justus Stroup, who recently had her second child, but there’s a twist: she isn’t quite sure how to pronounce her child’s name either. "I may have named my daughter a name I can't even pronounce," Stroup opens the video. "Now, I think I can pronounce it, but I've told a couple of people her name and there are two people who thought I said the same exact thing. So, I don't know that I know how to [pronounce] her name correctly."


@justusmoms29

Just when you think you name your child something normal! #2under2mom #postpartum #newborn #momsoftiktok #uniquenames #babyname #babygirl #sahm #momhumor

Stroup’s daughter is named Sutton and the big problem is how people around her pronounce the Ts. Stroup tends to gloss over the Ts, so it sounds like Suh-en. However, some people go hard on the Ts and call her “Sut-ton.”

"I'm not gonna enunciate the 'Ts' like that. It drives me absolutely nuts," she noted in her TikTok video. "I told a friend her name one time, and she goes, 'Oh, that's cute.' And then she repeated the name back to me and I was like, 'No, that is not what I said.'"

Stroup also had a problem with her 2-year-old son’s speech therapist, who thought the baby’s name was Sun and that there weren’t any Ts in the name at all. "My speech therapist, when I corrected her and spelled it out, she goes, 'You know, living out in California, I have friends who named their kids River and Ocean, so I didn't think it was that far off.'"

Stroup told People that she got the name from a TV show called “The Lying Game,” which she used to watch in high school. "Truthfully, this was never a name on my list before finding out I was pregnant with a girl, but after finding out the gender, it was a name I mentioned and my husband fell in love with," says Stroup. "I still love the name. I honestly thought I was picking a strong yet still unique name. I still find it to be a pretty name, and I love that it is gender neutral as those are the type of names I love for girls."

The mother could choose the name because her husband named their son Greyson.



The commenters thought Stroup should tell people it’s Sutton, pronounced like a button. “I hear it correctly! Sutton like Button. I would pronounce it like you, too!” Amanda wrote.

“My daughter’s name is Sutton. I say it the same way as you. When people struggle with her name, I say it’s Button but with a S. That normally immediately gets them to pronounce it correctly,” Megan added.

After the video went viral, Stroup heard from people named Hunter and Peyton, who are dealing with a similar situation. “I've also noticed the two most common names who run into the same issue are Hunter (people pronouncing it as Hunner or HUNT-ER) and Payton (pronounced Pey-Ton or Pey-tin, most prefer it as Pey-tin),” she told Upworthy.

“Another person commented saying her name is Susan and people always think it is Season or Steven,” Stroup told Upworthy. After having her second child, she learned that people mix up even the simplest names. “No name is safe at this point,” she joked.

The whole situation has Stroup rethinking how she pronounces her daughter’s name. Hopefully, she got some advance on how to tell people how to pronounce it, or else she’ll have years of correcting people in front of her. "Good lord, I did not think this was going to be my issue with this name," she said.

This article originally appeared last year.

You don't have to watch hockey to enjoy Nick the Goalie's running commentary.

Goalkeepers and goaltenders in all kinds of sports play a unique role on a team. While other players have to communicate and strategize with one another as they play, a goalie just has one job—keep the ball/puck/etc. out of the goal. It's a hugely important job, but pretty straightforward.

When their team is on the other side of a field or rink, goalies watch and wait. Since their teammates know and trust that they're watching the action, they don't really have to interact with anyone most of the time. And while they can't totally zone out, they have all kinds of time to themselves while the action is happening far away.

Have you ever seen what happens when a person—especially someone who likes to talk—has a whole lot of time to themselves and no one to talk to?

Meet Nick Weston, who is giving everyone a glimpse into a world most of us only watch from afar and never get to hear. Weston is an amateur hockey player from Vancouver, Canada, who has become a TikTok sensation with his mic'd-up goalie videos under his nickname, Nick the Goalie.

Do you remember the snowboarding 4-year-old in a dinosaur costume who coined the phrase "I'm a stuck-a-saurus!" and won hearts with her adorably entertaining monologuing? Nick the Goalie is like that, only as a grown man playing a team sport.

People love Nick the Goalie's wholesome self-talk as he performs his goalie duties with gusto. (Though he often wears a Vancouver Canucks jersey, he doesn't play for a National Hockey League team. As he explained to CTV, he gets brought in to play goaltender on various local league teams.)

His videos have even been shared by ESPN and the NHL, and the comments on his videos are as fabulous as his running commentary.

Watch:

@nickthegoalie_1

Mine! #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

"This is how I imagine a golden retriever's internal monologue. He's SO excited, I love it," wrote one commenter on Reddit.

"Only reason I gravitated towards the goalie position, other than my hatred of running, was my need to constantly sing to myself. Can relate so hard," wrote another.

A whole thread of soccer, field hockey, and lacrosse goalkeepers, as well as baseball catchers and outfielders, confirmed that this is exactly what they do—monologue, monologue, monologue.

@nickthegoalie_1

I COULD’VE DROPPED MY CROISSANT 🥐 #hockey #goalie #nhl #hockeyboys

It's hard not to smile at the the wholesomeness and hilarity of his self-talk. The singing, the squealing, the trash talk to no one in particular—it's all just so delightful.

@nickthegoalie_1

This video is a lot to take in #hockey #goalie #hockeyboys #nhl

Even people who aren't that into ice hockey are commenting with how much they enjoy his videos. As one person wrote, "Ok fine I’ll watch sports if I can get this insider commentary for every game."

So much fun. Recently, Weston has been using his social media fame to raise money for the Canucks Autism Network in addition to sharing the sport he loves. As of 2024, over 1.1 million has been raised.

Keep following Nick the Goalie on TikTok, YouTube, or Instagram.


This article originally appeared three years ago.

Pets

Man finds a mysterious egg in London, incubates it, and launches a Pixar-worthy journey of love

When Riyadh found an abandoned egg, he had no idea that it would change his life.

Courtesy of Riyadh Khalaf/Instagram (used with permission)

When Riyadh found an egg, he had no idea how much it would change his life.

The story of Riyadh and Spike starts like the opening to a children's book: "One day, a man walking through the city spotted a lone egg where an egg should not have been…" And between that beginning and the story's mostly sweet ending is a beautiful journey of curiosity, care, and connection that has captivated people all over the world.

Irish author Riyadh Khalaf was out walking in London when he came upon an egg. "We just found what we think is a duck egg," Riyadh says in a video showing the milky white egg sitting in a pile of dirt. "Just sitting here on its own. No nest. No other eggs."

Thinking there was no way it was going to survive on its own, Riyadh put the egg in a paper cup cushioned with a napkin and took it home to incubate it. He said he used to breed chickens and pigeons, so he had some experience with birds. Knowing the egg could survive for a while in a dormant state, he ordered an incubator on Amazon, and the journey to see if the egg was viable began.

Even though it was "just an egg," Riyadh quickly became attached, and once it showed signs of life he took on the role of "duck dad." Every day, the egg showed a drastic change in development, and Riyadh's giddy joy at each new discovery—movement, a discernible eye, a beak outline—was palpable. He devoured information on ducks to learn as much as he could about the baby he was (hopefully) about to hatch and care for.

Finally, 28 days later, the shell of the egg began to crack. "I could see this very clear outline of the most gorgeous little round bill," Riyadh said—confirmation that it was, indeed, a duck as he had suspected. But duckling hatching is a process, and one they have to do it on their own. Ducklings instinctively know to turn the egg as it hatches so that the umbilical cord detaches, and the whole process can take up to 48 hours. Riyadh watched and monitored until he finally fell asleep, but at 4:51am, 29 hours after the egg had started to hatch, he awakened to the sound of tweets.

"There was just this little wet alien staring back at me," he said. "It was love at first sight."

Riyadh named his rescue duckling Spike. Once Spike was ready to leave the incubator, he moved into "Duckingham Palace," a setup with all of the things he would need to grow into a healthy, self-sufficient duck—including things that contribute to his mental health. (Apparently ducklings can die from poor mental health, which can happen when they don't have other ducks to interact with—who knew?)

"My son shall not only survive, but he shall thrive!" declared the proud papa.

Riyadh knew it would be impossible for Spike to not imprint on him somewhat, but he didn't want him to see him as his mother. Riyadh set up mirrors so that Spike could see another duckling (even though it was just himself) and used a surrogate stuffed duck to teach him how to do things like eat food with his beak. He used a duck whistle and hid his face from Spike while feeding him, and he played duck sounds on his computer to accustom Spike to the sounds of his species.

"It's just such a fulfilling process to watch a small being learn," said Riyadh.

As Spike grew, Riyadh took him to the park to get him accustomed to the outdoors and gave him opportunities to swim in a small bath. He learned to forage and do all the things a duck needs to do. Throughout, Riyadh made sure that Spike was getting the proper balanced nutrition he needed as well. Check this out:


After 89 days, the day finally came for Spike to leave Riyadh's care and be integrated into a community of his kind "to learn how to properly be a duck." A rehabilitation center welcomed him in and he joined a flock in an open-air facility where he would be able to choose whether to stay or to leave once he became accustomed to flying. Within a few weeks of being at the rehabilitation center, his signature mallard colors developed, marking his transition from adolescence. Spike has been thriving with his flock, and Riyadh was even able to share video of his first flight.

This is the where "And they all lived happily ever after" would be a fitting end to the story, but unfortunately, Spike and his fowl friends are living in trying times. The rehabilitation center was notified by the U.K. government in December of 2024 that the duck flock needed to be kept indoors for the time being to protect them from a bird flu outbreak and keep it from spreading.

Building an entire building for a flock of ducks is not a simple or cheap task, so Riyadh called on his community of "daunties" and "duncles" who had been following Spike's story to help with a fundraiser to build a "Duckingham Palace" for the whole flock. Riyadh's followers quickly raised over £11,000, which made a huge difference for the center's owners to be able to protect Spike and his friends.

All in all, Riyadh and Spike's story is a testament to what can happen when people genuinely care. If Riyadh had left that egg where it was, it may not have made it. If Spike hadn't survived and been moved to the rehab center, the ducks there would be in greater danger of the bird flu due to the costs of building an indoor shelter for them. Despite the ongoing bird flu threat, the story really does have a happy ending.

Thank to Riyadh for sharing Spike's journey with us. (You can follow Riyadh on Instagram here.)