Life is weird if you think about it. You're born…you live and then you die. Everyone will experience this. It's the circle of life. For some people life gets weird. What makes it a recipe for weird begins at conception. Something went wrong, and you have to live with it or some choose to not be that brave. It can't be controlled until birth so there is no saying what can happen. Parents want the best for their child, that's all. They ask to have a healthy, happy baby. Whether it's a boy or a girl- Happy and healthy is all they need. I was a different case. I may have been happy and I may have been healthy, but that little something happened to me. I was only welcomed into the situation recently because of an incident that had to be explained…
Three weeks prior…
I hurried into the stall in the boys' bathroom. I had this cramping feeling in my stomach again. What was this about? I can't knock it and it's been going on for a few weeks now. It feels like my insides might fall out, or worse I'm going to explode. This cramping feeling also comes with a bloated stomach every now and then and… well, gas. It's killing me I think. I must have eaten something bad and it hasn't escaped my system, or maybe I've been poisoned by the cafeterias lunch special. Yeah, that could be it.
I pulled down my jeans and sat on the toilet. I curled my fingers around my semi-bloated abdomen and groaned. Luckily I was the only person in the rest room at the time.
I'm constipated and feel sick almost all the time. What is going on? There has to be a meaning behind all of this!
The cramping subsided after a long sit in the bathroom. I collected myself and made my way to the nurse, the fifth time this week. She told me I'll be fine and gave me an ice pack… What the hell am I supposed to do with this, may I ask?
I shook my head with a sigh and walked back to class. The sick feeling again- Oh god! I belched trying to make it pass. I had this over baring feeling that my breakfast was going to come up or worse, my entire stomach.
I've always been healthy! My entire life I've never had stomach problems, heart problems, or even emotional problems that would cause me to be sick. I'm a healthy eater and I exercise too.
These thoughts continued to cloud my mind as I walked through the halls of my high school. Junior year just began and I'm already wishing it were through. Not only do I get picked on for being Gay, but also my looks don't help the matter. I get confused for a girl almost all the time. I have pencil straight, medium length dark brown hair that touches the middle of my shoulders. I get called 'pretty' almost all the time. Even my boyfriend says I have a 'beautiful' face. My eyes are big and green with specs of gray, and my thick lips have a constant smile, that add to the beauty about me. Normal boys about my age have thin forgettable lips, but mine are something you can use to describe me. I don't get it most of the time. I'm not that great looking, but all the girls and a majority of the gay males in my school fall for my looks. I would think a girl would look for a more masculine looking guy, but obviously I was wrong. I could feel the cramping creeping up again. I placed my hand to my stomach and winced. I need to take a breather. I bent over slightly and took in a deep breath. I closed my eyes tight and exhaled. My hair made a thin curtain around my face as I hunched over. I couldn't see anything, but my shoes and the tile floor under me once my eyes popped open. The strands of hair that hung from my head mesmerized me. It was like a waterfall of brown crowding my face.
"Are you, okay?" A voice spoke from behind the curtain. I flipped my hair up and looked at the person.
"Stanley… Hi." It was my boyfriend. His six-foot figure stood taller than me. I was closer to the ground at five-foot three. Stan could probably touch the ceiling of the school perfectly if he jumped.
"Pax, what are you doing?" He questioned with a laugh.
"I have a stomach ache and I was taking a moment to let it pass." I explained. He nodded and brought his eyes to the wall across from us. He always did this when he was uncomfortable. Why? I don't know.
"What are you doing out of class?" I asked. His backpack was flung over his shoulder and his calculus notebook hung heavy in his hand.
"Just walking around. I didn't feel like going to class." He shrugged.
"You need to stop skipping, you know that right?" I questioned.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll go tomorrow. It's no big deal, Paxton. Chill out, would ya?" He sighed angrily. I rolled my eyes and nodded.
"You keep saying that, and you never follow through." I retorted.
"Well you're not in class." He smirked. I blinked blankly at him.
"I was at the nurse." I responded with a slight sarcastic tone.
"Pfft." He huffed giving me a solid roll of his eyes. I really hate when he pulls these little attitudes with me. I swear he must be bi-polar. One minute he can go from being uber nice to obnoxiously angry. Frankly, it's annoying.
"Look, I don't feel good. I don't feel like dealing with your shit today." I mouthed off. He looked at me with a shocked expression.
"My shit? Excuse me 'Mr. Amazing', you've got your moments too." He mocked.
"Not everyday like you." I smirked. I tucked my hair behind my ears and cleared my throat. The nausea was coming right back. I inhaled through my nose softly and started to breath heavily. I'm confident that I was going to throw up this time. I threw down my bag and ran quickly into the boys' room. To my luck I was standing right next to it when I had my cramp attack. I pushed open a stall and darted in. My knees collided with the floor when I dropped down and my head ducked into the bowl. I could feel my stomach twisting and the muscles spasm as my stomach tried to empty itself. Nothing was coming up at first until the gagging I was doing made me literally sick. My breakfast came hurdling up my esophagus at an alarming rate. I thought it wouldn't stop. I felt someone take hold of my hair from behind and bring it up into a ponytail like grasp.
"Ugh." I groaned when I stopped vomiting. I sat back on my heels and gripped the sides of the crummy toilet bowl. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I coughed a little, but nothing came up. I was certain whatever had to come out, was out. Acid burned my throat and made it hard for me to swallow again. Something had to be seriously wrong this time. I got off the floor, forgetting the person that held my hair back was standing behind me. I collided with them and sighed. At first I thought it had to be Stan, but to my surprise it was someone different. This was embarrassing.
"Uh…hi." I spoke with a raspy voice. He beamed a sympathetic smile at me and let out a breathy sigh.
"Are you alright?" He asked. He stood maybe two feet in total taller than me. His blue eyes peered into mine with concern. After a few moments of silence his hand brushed into his short bundle of chestnut red waves on his head.
"I…don't know." I took in a deep breath. The thought had just crossed my mind that my breath was probably rancid now.
"I hope you're okay with me pulling back your hair. I didn't want to see you have to struggle with that." He half smiled.
"Nah, I'm grateful for that." I smiled. Where was Stan to do that for me? Prick.
"Was this the closest bathroom to get to? I know the girls' room is closer to the security office way down the hall. I won't judge you, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." He smiled again. Uh geese. My mouth fell open a tad in my attempt not to bust out laughing.
"I won't judge you either given the fact that I'm a boy." I chuckled softly. His eyes grew wide and his mouth formed a solid 'O' shape. A sharp breathless sound came from his mouth.
"I-I'm so sorry." He shook his head. I could tell he was mortified that he just called me a woman.
"You're okay. I get it all the time." I said with my voice coming back to normal.
"Wow, I'm really embarrassed. I'm so sorry I thought you- God, excuse me." He ran past me and left the bathroom quickly. I softly laughed to myself and washed up. My bag was luckily still outside the door waiting on me to claim it. I slung it over my shoulder and walked to my next class.
I told you I get confused for a girl about everyday. My voice is the only thing to throw people off. It isn't necessarily deep. It's more of a masculine tint to a higher pitched voice. I've been this way since middle school come to think of it.
Later that day I realized that my cramping had not come back since I threw up. Maybe I have a bug? That could be it, right? I probably threw up the remainder of it, who knows?
I had to walk home since Stan didn't wait for me after school like he usually does. I swear he's turned into an asshole this year. I don't know what to do with him anymore.
The walk was fine, but once I got home I cursed out loud when I got a starling cramp in my lower belly. I gripped my stomach and gasped. I rushed to the bathroom thinking it was a bowel problem. I was wrong. I sat on the toilet again until my mother got home.
"What's going on honey? I got your text in the car." She spoke behind the bathroom door. I flushed the toilet even though there was nothing to flush and opened the door.
"I'm cramping again." I sighed. She looked at me with a confused expression. She looked me up and down until her expression changed.
"I guess a trip to the doctor tomorrow?" She asked. I nodded and went to go sit on the couch. The front door to my house opened and Stan walked in.
"Hi." I said from the cushions of my sofa.
"What happened to you today?" He asked, not even walking fully into the room.
"I got sick. You didn't hear me hurling?" I asked.
"Nope. Sorry." He shrugged. He walked further in now and sat next to me. He placed his hand on my leg and ran his fingertips over the denim material.
"You know… It would be nice if you cared a little more about me." I shyly stated. I looked at my hands and examined the boney structure of my fingers. My hands are abnormally thin for a boy according to my father.
"Babe, I'm doing all I can. You're really hard to care for when you tend to piss me off more than I love you." What? I sat up and turned around to look at him.
"WHAT?" I hollered.
"What?" I asked idiotically. I jumped up and shook my head at him.
"You are the worst boyfriend I think even fucking existed. Get the hell out of my house!" I screamed.
"Hey! I don't know who made you the boss of this relationship, but you're done wearing the pants!" He argued. He stood up, causing me to have to look up at him.
"Get out." I said sternly.
"Fine." Stan left my house and disappeared. No phone calls, no Facebook chats, nothing for the night. I thought maybe he would come around and apologize after hearing my words, but he didn't. I closed my laptop with a sigh and put on my sweatpants. I climbed into bed and closed out my light.
I woke up in a daze and looked over at my clock. The time read:
I realized I had this urge to pee so I pushed off the covers and sat up. I felt this immense pressure suddenly rise. It felt as though it was coming from in between my testicles and ass. I had to lean back to make the pain stop. I sucked in a sharp breath and felt my stomach cramp up again. What the hell was happening to me? I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. As I stood up and moved about my room in the dark I felt as though my pants were wet. I rushed into the bathroom and turned the light on. I looked down and noticed my pants were covered in red; front and back.
"Holy shit." I whispered. I quickly dropped my pants and sat on the toilet. My boxers were drenched in blood. It varied between dark crimson red and bright red. Holy crap I think I'm dying. I started to wipe my private area with a handful of toilet paper and nearly passed out when the tissue was drenched. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON! I started to breath heavily when I felt more liquid rushing out of me. WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS COMING FROM!
"DAD!" I started to scream. "Oh my god-oh my- DAD!" I screamed as I continued to wipe and wipe. It wasn't stopping!
"DAD! MOM!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I heard my bedroom door bust open. My dad's heavy feet could be heard stomping across my hardwood floor. He flipped on the light and his feet stopped.
"Holy shit." My dad gasped. I leaned over and noticed the pale blue sheets of my bed covered in blood where I was sleeping.
"DAD!" I cried. Tears streamed down my face as I help onto my stomach. He rushed into the bathroom and his eyes grew wide.
"V-VIV!" He called over his shoulder. He rushed into the bathroom beside me. He ignored my blood stained pants and boxers and moved closer to me.
"What's going on? What happened?" He pressed.
"I DON'T KNOW!" I sobbed.
"Okay, okay relax! You're bleeding- bleeding from where?" He asked. I looked down and took in a shaky breath. I looked back up at him and coughed before continuing to cry.
"I-don't know." I hiccupped.
"What's going on?" My mother rushed in.
"JUST HELP ME!" I cried harder. My mother was mortified that I was bleeding, but strangely enough not as panicked. I couldn't even help myself to stop the flow of the blood cause I had no clue where to plug it up at. It was just coming, and coming. I had it all over my hands, my thighs, and a little smeared up my back. My mom ran and got a pair of my dad's briefs. She put a super absorbent maxi pad she retrieved from her bathroom and placed it in the underwear. I felt violated, exposed, ashamed, and just plain embarrassed that my parents are seeing me like this.
"Get in the shower." My dad turned the water on to warm and pulled the curtain back. He put his hands on my waist and lifted me to a standing position. I grabbed onto the counter with my bloody hand for support, leaving a detailed fingerprint on the counter top. He walked me over to the tub and helped me into it. He took off the removable showerhead and started to spray down my legs. I leaned against the wall for support. I couldn't even believe I was standing come to think of it. My stomach was aching, my lower back felt like it was being stabbed and I felt nauseas again. The pressure in my lower half was excruciating. My legs were shaking with the sudden onset of fear that this thing is making me experience. My mind is flooding with possible reasons for this to be happening. I probably have cancer- or some type of internal bleeding?
"UGH!" I groaned loudly when the cramps intensified.
"I got the bleeding to stop a bit." My dad said, continuing to run the water down my legs. He would spray it upwards every now and then hoping to hit the spot on me that's bleeding. Once we got the bleeding to come to a minimal my bad patted my legs dry and my mom slid the underwear on me. I felt so disturbed. I felt like my maturity was at a low, that I had to call for my parents help when I'm almost a young adult. Given the circumstance I can't really hate myself all that much. I felt clean at least that the blood was off of me and the pad was now catching it. My mom went to grab my pair of black sweatpants from my drawer and brought them back to me. She helped me into them while my father continued to clean up the bathroom. She ceased my crying and rubbed my upper back for a while until my dad was done. My mother stripped my sheets and then went to change her clothes along with my father. They got me into the car and took me to the hospital. By now my anxiety was out of the roof and I felt like passing out all over again.
When we got to the hospital my dad ran to retrieve a wheel chair from the inside foyer area, right before you reach the emergency room. He wheeled it out to the car and opened my door. My mother said she could read the pain on my face. They helped me into the chair and I hunched over from the cramps. I grasped my stomach groaning and letting sighs of frustration out.
"Dad." I groaned with tears coming to my eyes. He placed his hand on my shoulder and sighed. My mother walked up to the nurse sitting behind the desk and spoke quietly to her. The nurse nodded her head and left her place at the desk. She brought in a doctor and my mother waved us over. My dad wheeled us to the opening doors and the doctor smiled at me. My mother spoke to the doctor ahead of us and he stopped to turn and look at me.
"How are we today, Paxton?" He smiled. I gave him a displeasing look and sighed. Stop with the small talk and help me. He turned to my mother again and nodded.
"I'm going to send down one of the specialist. They should be able to take care of this type of thing." He spoke. I looked at the two of them and frowned. This type of 'thing'? What is that supposed to mean?
They gave me a heating pad and the cramps got a little bit better. They also handed me some aspirin to help with the pain in my back. It was maybe an hour before the specialist got to the emergency room. She walked in with a big smile and eyed me. She took a chart and walked over to our family.
"Hi, are you the Fairfax's?" She asked. My mother nodded and looked to my dad. I could tell she was nervous about something for the way she was sitting in her chair. She wouldn't stop fidgeting and when the doctor came close she started to get red.
"I'm doctor Foster. Let's go to my office, okay?" She gave a warm smile. She was very nice and spoke with a calming tone. She looked to be maybe in her mid twenties maybe even early thirties. Her curly brown hair was throwing me off. It made her seem younger then she probably is.
"Alrighty then… Paxton, how are you feeling honey? Tell me everything that happened this morning?" She asked when we finally settled down in her office.
"Okay… Well this morning I got up to use the bathroom I guess and I realized I was bleeding a lot… for the past couple of weeks I've been getting these awful cramps and they make my back hurt and…well everything seemed so weird. This has never happened to me." I spoke trying to fight back tears. I was truly afraid and I didn't know what was to come of it.
"Alright-…" She stopped. She looked at my mother and then me. She licked her lips in an attempt to collect her words.
"Paxton everything that is happening to you…is partly normal-yet partly not." She spoke with an uneven tone to her voice. I couldn't tell if she was upset or worried.
"What?" I questioned. How is bleeding from somewhere normal? Before she could answer me back my mother broke out in a sobbing cry. My father tried to shush her and calm her down, but he was having no luck.
"What is going on? Will someone tell me?" I spoke sternly.
"Paxton- Honey I only wanted the best for you! I never wanted you to think you were weird! I wanted you to live the way you were already. You were such a happy kid! You still are! I didn't want you to have to struggle with being different!" She sobbed. I stared at her in worry.
"Different? Different how?" I stood up in anger. What was she hiding from me?
"Paxton, sit down hun." Doctor Foster spoke.
"Listen, what your mother didn't tell you… was that you have a special quality about you… You always have." She explained. I went back to the day when I was five. I remember it perfectly. My mother sat me down and told me that there was something special about me, and that most kids would never get to experience it. I was confused obviously. I was only five and she was handing me over this large amount of information. She repeated several times that even though I'm 'different' I'm always going to be the same to her. I never understood what she was getting at. That wasn't until I was thirteen and went through puberty. Weird things were happening in my body- during puberty that is obviously going to happen, but in my case it was different. Pimples became my main concern, but my voice was a different story. The doctor told my mother I had a high amount of…something in my body, but they never elaborated on it. They knew why I had it, but they never told me about it. When I asked, my mother told me not to worry. It bothered me that no one ever answered my questions, but I feel like now I'm going to get my answers.
"What special quality?" I sighed. My mother wiped her eyes and looked at Dr. Foster.
"Paxton, do you know what 'Intersex' means?" Dr. Foster asked.
"No." I shook my head.
"It means that a person has the reproductive organs of a male and a female."
"W-what are you saying…I'm Intersex?" My eyes grew wide when she nodded.
"I'M WHAT?" I stood up and yelled at my parents. My mother teared up and looked away from me.
"Now Paxton, your mother only wanted an easy life for you."
"WAS IT YOUR IDEA TOO, TO NOT TELL ME ABOUT THIS? YOU WERE THERE! YOU COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING!" I cried out.
"Paxton sweetheart relax, we're going to tell you everything you need to know." Dr. Foster stated. She walked around to me and asked me to take a seat. I reluctantly sat down and looked away from everyone.
"Now…to start off I'm going to explain about the bleeding. You started puberty at thirteen right?" She asked. I nodded. I continued to look at the wall to the side of me. I rested my elbow on the chairs arm and rested my mouth on my fist.
"I had records sent from your pediatrician. I have body scans and other things from when you were little in this file. Are their questions you feel need to be answered first?"
"…Yeah, why am I bleeding?"
"Okay, you have high levels of estrogen in your body. We took some blood from you earlier and ran tests and what not. It's enough for a woman to be able to experience her menstrual cycle."
"But I have a penis! THIS MAKES NO SENSE!" I hollered.
"It's alright, Paxton what your mother neglected to tell you was that you do have a uterus and a vagina..."
"WHERE!" I screamed. This was embarrassing… How could I have not known about this? Wouldn't I have found it eventually? I feel so stupid…
"Your body is set up where you have an abnormally small vagina and a relatively normal size uterus. Now from your ultrasounds here as a child I'm seeing about one ovary. Your body must of given it the signals to go ahead and ovulate. Which in turn gave you your period because you didn't get pregnant obviously… Which I don't even know if that can be possible, but that's a different story." She explained.
"Pregnant? Ovulate? I'm A BOY!" I cried out. I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath.
"I may have a messed up genital area down there, but that doesn't mean-"
"Paxton that has nothing to do with it. This happened because-" Dr. Foster began.
"I don't care how it happened! I'm a boy- I don't have a vagina that's the end of the story!" I choked up.
"But Paxton you need to realize that you do honey." My mother spoke.
"AND YOU! How could- how could you- GAH! HOW COULD YOU HIDE THIS FROM ME?" I broke down. My sanity flew out of the door. My mother rushed to me and held me close as I cried.
"I wanted you to be happy! I didn't want you to feel like you were being made fun of! I only wanted to make you happy!" She explained straight to me.
"You didn't think this would happen?" I cried.
"It was a concern. It never really crossed my mind of it actually happening. I'm sorry honey, I really am. You need to see it from my point of view a-and your fathers! We only wanted a happy life for you… That's all." She explained. I read her expression as apologetic. My mother was never the person to do the wrong thing… My mind was still fuzzy and I needed time to process this, but I did know that behind all of it she must have had a good reason.
"…I just want to go home." I frowned. My mother gave a sympathetic smile and pushed my hair back behind my ear.
"Here is my card with all of my numbers…when you want to talk about this and get some things straight… We'll make an appointment at my office down town." Dr. Foster explained as she passed the card over to my father. My father nodded and slid it into his pocket.
"Until then… Your mother will help you with some things and just take an aspirin if the pain gets worse… Heating pad if you need it." She shrugged. She gave me a small smile, but I returned it with a frown. I just wanted to go home. I didn't want to hear anything else about being part girl or anything. I wanted to be Paxton Fairfax… a normal teenage boy…