MidReal Story

Boyfriend Material

Dalton

Scenario:In a world where men can get pregnant. Japanese boy Winston is twenty and is ten weeks pregnant and has a condition where he doesn't get a big belly. Winston is married to his husband yu. Over the years Winston has had 6 miscarriages

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In a world where men can get pregnant. Japanese boy Winston is twenty and is ten weeks pregnant and has a condition where he doesn't get a big belly. Winston is married to his husband yu. Over the years Winston has had 6 miscarriages

Winston Katsuragi

He is a 20yearold Japanese man living in America. He is resilient, loving, and sensitive. Winston experiences recurring miscarriages, having had seven in total, including one after his pregnancy. He shares a deep bond with his husband, Yu, and cherishes their life together. Despite physical challenges and emotional turmoil, he remains hopeful about starting a family and deeply values his relationship with Yu, who has supported him through thick and thin.

Dr. Samantha Harper

She is Winston’s obstetrician responsible for his care during pregnancies. She is professional, empathetic, and informative. She explains each miscarriage to Winston and Yu, helping them understand the reasons behind the losses. Her open communication provides both partners with clarity on their situation. She works closely with Winston and Yu to explore options for having a successful pregnancy in the future.

Winston's Father

He is a caring figure who often jokes to lighten the mood around his son's miscarriages. He is humorous, gentle, and understanding. He keeps a balanced perspective while supporting Winston emotionally through his losses. His ability to joke about the situation shows his comedic relief approach to life’s challenges. He values the family dynamics and stands by Winston and Yu with unwavering support.

I am a twenty-year-old Japanese boy living in America.

I am married to a twenty-year-old American boy, also named Yu.

We are the same age.

I am ten weeks pregnant.

I have had six miscarriages.

After giving birth, I had another miscarriage.

So in total, I had seven miscarriages.

I don't have a big belly because of a condition that doesn't allow me to get as big as other pregnant men.

My husband and I have been trying to have a baby for five years.

My husband has never given up on having a baby, even after having so many miscarriages.

He always tells me that he will be okay with whatever happens, as long as I am healthy.

If I were to lose this baby, it would be my seventh miscarriage.

My husband and I would be heartbroken, but we would be okay because we would still have each other.

Having a baby is important to us, but it's not as important as our relationship with each other.

I love my husband more than words can say, and he loves me just the same.

We are perfect for each other, and nothing will ever change that.

Not even having a baby.

I sit on our bed, staring at myself in the full-length mirror that is attached to the wall.

My husband is in our ensuite bathroom, brushing his teeth.

My hands are on my barely-there bump.

I trace my fingers over my flat stomach.

I can't help but feel a familiar ache in my chest.

I know I'm not like other pregnant men.

They have big bellies and are full of life.

Me?

I'm just flat and empty.

I've had six miscarriages before this one.

And I know that this one might not make it either.

The thought of losing another baby makes me want to cry.

I try to hold back the tears, but they come anyway.

"I hate this body," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion.

"It must be broken."

I hear the water in the bathroom turn off, and then Yu comes out, toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his chin and onto his shirt and the carpet. He sees me crying and immediately stops what he's doing.

He walks over to me, concern etched across his face. "What's wrong?" he asks, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth and setting it on the nightstand next to me.

I don't answer him right away.

Instead, I turn away from him, not wanting him to see me like this.

But he doesn't let me hide from him.

He moves closer to me, putting his hand on my shoulder and gently turning me to face him. "Tell me what's wrong," he says softly, his eyes filled with kindness and understanding.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking.

"I hate this body," I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It must be broken."

Yu frowns slightly at my words, clearly confused by what I'm saying. "What do you mean?" he asks gently. "You're beautiful," he says softly. "Inside and out."

I shake my head slightly, feeling tears well up in my eyes again. "No," I say quietly. "You don't understand."

Yu sighs softly and pulls me into a hug. "Then explain it to me," he says gently. "I want to understand."

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. "Other pregnant men have big bellies," I say quietly. "But mine is flat."

I pull away from his embrace and walk over to the window.

I look out at the street below, watching as our neighbor walks by with his eight-month belly.

He's a big guy, and his belly is huge, but he carries it well.

My hands instinctively go to my own flat abdomen, and I can't help but feel a wave of self-loathing wash over me.

"I've had six miscarriages," I say quietly, my voice barely audible. "My body must hate babies so much."

I turn away from the window and slide down against the wall, curling up into a ball on the floor.

Yu comes over to me slowly, kneeling down next to me and putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," he says softly. "It's okay."

I shake my head slightly, feeling tears well up in my eyes again. "No," I whisper. "It's not okay."

Yu takes a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Listen, I know it feels like your body is betraying you, but it's not your fault," he says, his eyes locking onto mine. "We can keep trying, or we can explore other options—adoption, surrogacy—whatever feels right for us."

I sit on the edge of our bathtub, clutching the ultrasound photo from yesterday's appointment in my hand.

The tiny blob that is our baby at ten weeks looks so fragile, so small.

My hand instinctively moves to my flat stomach, tracing the curve of my barely-there bump.

I can't help but think of all the other times I've been here before, only to have it end in loss.

I hear a knock on the bathroom door, and Yu's voice calls out to me.

"Are you okay in there? You've been in there for thirty minutes."

I don't answer right away, lost in my thoughts as I stare at the ultrasound photo.

Yu knocks again, his voice filled with concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

I take a deep breath and finally respond.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

The door opens slowly, and Yu steps inside.

He sees me sitting on the edge of the tub, clutching the ultrasound photo tightly in my hands.

He frowns slightly as he takes in my trembling form.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly.

I don't say anything at first, just hand him the ultrasound picture.

He takes it from me, his eyes scanning the image of our tiny baby growing inside me.

"I can't do this," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Yu looks at me, confusion etched across his face. "Can't do what?" he asks gently.

I take a deep breath before answering. "I can't lose another one," I say quietly.

Yu sits down next to me on the edge of the tub, his shoulder brushing against mine.

"We'll be okay," he says softly. "No matter what happens."

But I know that's not true.

I've lost six babies already, and each time it feels like a piece of me dies along with them.

I can't bear to go through that pain again.

Yu puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. "You're not alone," he says softly. "We'll get through this together."

But even as he speaks those words of comfort, I can feel the fear gripping me tightly in its grasp.

I look up at him, and for the first time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we will.

I sit in the hospital bed, exhausted but unable to sleep.

Yu is dozing in the chair next to me, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly open.

The delivery was difficult, twenty hours of labor that ended in an emergency C-section.

My hand moves down to the bandage across my lower abdomen, tracing the line of stitches with my fingertips.

I remember the sound of Maya's heartbeat dropping during labor, the panic that gripped me as the doctors rushed around us.

They have her in the NICU now, just for monitoring.

Standard procedure for someone with my history.

Yu stirs in the chair beside me, his eyes opening slowly as he looks over at me.

"Do you need anything?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head, still trying to process that we finally have a daughter.

The nurse comes into the room a few minutes later, wheeling a small cart with Maya inside.

"Time for feeding," she says softly. I reach out my hands, and they shake as I take Maya from her.

She feels so small and fragile in my arms, and for a moment I can't believe she's real.

I cradle her against my chest, and the nurse adjusts my hospital gown so that I can feed her.

But as I look down at her face, something feels off.

Her nose seems different, and her hair is darker than I remember.

I must be hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

"Are you sure this is my baby?" my voice comes out shaky.

The nurse giggles and says, "Sure is!"

But her laugh sounds strange, and it only makes me more anxious.

Yu is still asleep in the chair next to me, and I gently rock Maya back and forth as she nurses.

I look down at the hospital bracelet on her wrist, comparing it to the one on my own wrist.

The numbers don't match.

I feel a cold wave of panic wash over me and nudge Yu awake.

"Yu, the numbers on her bracelet don't match mine," I whisper urgently.

He blinks rapidly, trying to shake off sleep, and looks at the bracelets with growing alarm.

I stare at the bracelets again, my hands shaking as I hold them side by side.

Yu gently takes them from me, his fingers steadier than mine.

He points to the sequence of numbers on each band - 47291.

They match.

But the relief doesn't come right away.

I grab the bands back from him, counting each digit three times while Yu watches patiently.

The baby fusses in her bassinet, and I look between her and the numbers, still not convinced.

Yu picks up Maya and brings her closer to me so I can see her features more clearly in the harsh hospital lighting.

Her nose and hair look exactly as they did before - I was wrong.

Yu's voice is calm as he cradles Maya. "It's the exhaustion, love. You're just tired."

I nod slowly, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. "I just... I can't shake this fear that something will go wrong."