Male Mom

“Bye, honey, I’ll see you tonight!” I shout out to my wife, Jelinja, as she opens the front door to leave. “Be home in time for dinner.” 

She grins back at me. “Well, of course, babe, I would never miss your meals, you’re the best cook ever. Just be sure and leave me some. You know how hungry you’ve been lately.”

“What?” I stammer in mock surprise. “You’re saying I’m getting fat?”

“Never,” she giggles as she glances at my tummy. “See ya babe.” I blow her a kiss, then she’s out the door. 

She’s a good provider. A bit of a free spirit sometimes, but marriage seems to suit her well. I trust her with my life and know she has the best interests of our soon-to-be family in mind. 

I’m what you would call a house-husband. I stay home, make sure the house is clean and tidy, and cook all the meals when she is away. Nothing says “I love you” better than having a hot, steaming meal ready for your wife when she comes in after a hard day’s work. 

I’m sure our lifestyle looks unusual to our very straight-laced neighbors, who give us shifty side-eye glances and shakes of their heads when we come and go. It’s mostly her going, as I stay home most of the time. Our families…well, they understand, of course, but we don’t see much of them ever since we set out on our own. 

Our friends — or former friends I should say — they’re the biggest disappointment for us. They don’t approve of our arrangement; they’re judgmental and preachy, and have pretty much unfriended us both. But no worries, we have something better than people’s approval. We have a bond that grows stronger every day, a bond called love. And love triumphs over hate every day.

I feel a stir in my tummy, which has developed a little bump lately. No, it’s not my stomach constricting with hunger pangs, or gastric distress from my breakfast this morning. It’s not a beer-belly bulge, although I do love a good IPA now and then. It’s not a physical ailment or disease, like cancer or anything, at least not that I know of. There’s actually nothing wrong with my tummy at all.

I place my hand on the bump and rub gently. The movement increases, and a stab of pain causes me to wince. 

Yes, I’m pregnant, sort of. And yes, I’m a male, 100%. I know what they say: you can’t be “sort of pregnant” you either are pregnant or you’re not. But ‌that’s the way it is; there’s no denying it. I’m pregnant, in a way that’s hard to understand because males aren’t supposed to be the ones who get pregnant. 

For the next few hours I busy myself about, cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, getting everything ready for the big surprise I’m going to spring on Jelinja tonight. If it happens, which I think it will. I glance at the clock. She’ll be home soon.

I saute the shrimp with garlic butter and put together a big seaweed salad. Every once in a while, the movement in my belly causes me to pause; it’s getting more frequent and intense as the clock ticks, to the point of considerable discomfort. I suck on a mint to distract my mind from the intermittent pain. 

At 6:15 pm, and right on time, Jelinja arrives home, rushes over to me and plants a wet, sloppy kiss on my lips. “Oh, babe, that smells so good!” she gushes. “My favorite!”

“Yep,” I grin, “and seaweed salad too. Just the way you like it.”

“Oh, yum.”

We eat in the kitchen. My stomach lurches, but not from the food, although I am hungry. I glare at my belly. 

Jelinja frowns with a look of concern. “Are you okay, babe?” 

“I’m fine, honey, just a little hungry. I didn’t eat all day.” Well, that’s true, I haven’t felt like eating since breakfast.

I take a bite of my food. Oh wow. I gotta say, that scampi is pretty darned good. “How is it?” I ask. 

“Mmmm…” she moans, her mouth stuffed too full to speak. She chews a bit, swallows and says, “heavenly, just pure heaven. I didn’t expect this tonight. I thought you were cooking calamari.”

“Anything for you, love,” I manage to mumble through my mouthful of food. I swallow the delicious crustacean goodness and clear my throat. “I have another surprise for you after dinner, too. Right after we clean up.”  

“I’ll do the dishes,” Jelinja offers. She looks at my bulging tummy and smirks. “You sit back and relax, okay hon? You must be exhausted.” I nod, and we continue to eat without another word. When I’ve had my fill, I go to the living room and wait for her to join me. 

My just-completed meal must have set something off because my stomach is really protesting now as it churns like the swell of the ocean tide. I touch my tummy and feel the movement inside. Yes, it’s almost time. Tonight, a new chapter begins that will change our lives forever. 

Moments later, Jelinja joins me in the living room. “Okay, what’s your surprise?”

“Umm…” Suddenly, I can’t speak as I’m seized with a jolt of pain. This is sooner than I expected. Jelinja watches me, her eyes wide as saucers as I anchor my tail to a nearby tuft of seagrass. My stomach contracts in muscular rhythmic motions, and I groan, “Ohhhh!” 

I wonder if my father felt the same way when I was born and emerged from his pouch with my siblings. It’s wonderful, and terrifying, and I think I’m going to die. 

I push instinctively, as a woman does when she gives birth. Tiny forms erupt from the brood pouch on my belly into the water, each one a new life I’ve been incubating — our offspring, tiny and delicate, swimming freely, their eyes open and bright. I pump out more and more until there are dozens. 

Jelinja gasps. “Oh my,” she whispers, and she starts to cry. 

“Aww, babe, I love you,” I say, as I choke up with emotion myself. The contractions have stopped, and no more little ones emerge from my pouch. I must be done. 

“Congratulations, Mommy, meet your children,” I say. My eyes tear up as I watch my newborn kids swim around us in a dazzling display of new life.

“Congratulations to you, Daddy,” she sniffles. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She comes over to me, and we hug and cry and celebrate this moment that I wish could last forever, and I know our love could never be stronger than right now. 

And so it is, nature’s way of things in our world — where the male gives birth to the next generation. A world where roles reverse, and love, life, and biology intertwine into one of natures’ greatest surprises, and the proud parent is a male seahorse, just like me.