Marie Sauveterre, being thirty-eight years old, cried and screamed as the doctor helped her push the baby. This wasn't supposed to be happening. The baby was supposed to be born July 15, not May 12. She knew all this pushing would be for nothing. Her last child, a beautiful little daughter, was born just as early and died on her breast, her little red fingers on her skin.

Beom Doh, her husband, tried to help relieve the pain, encouraging her and trying to convince her that this baby would be lucky, though he didn't believe it himself. They both said this would be the last time they would try, whether this was successful or not.

"What's the baby's gender?" The doctor asked in a pleasant tone as the woman screamed in pain.

Beom looked at him frantically as Marie squeezed his hand. "A boy! My little man is going to be a football player!"

"Oh, just one more push! C'mon!"

And pushed she did. Out came a screaming newborn. The parents couldn't believe what they were hearing. A crying baby! It wasn't dead! They actually had a child!

"It's a-" the doctor who was holding the screaming baby up gasped as he looked down at the baby's privates. He showed a nurse, who quickly took out the baby away.

"What happened? Where's my baby?" She tried getting up, Beom holding her down with his arm. "Oh my God, he's dead! He's dead!"

"No, that can't be possible! He was crying, right, doctor?" He looked up, but everyone but Ho and a nurse were left. "Little brother, you're always honest. What's going on?"

Ho looked around uncomfortably. "She's-"

"She? The doctor said it was a boy?" Marie was getting cleaned as the men walked out.

"It didn't look like one, big brother."

Beom touched his beating forehead. Nothing made sense, and he was scared. She? Why was he, now she, being taken away? Why did the nurse look shocked?

---

The baby needed to stay in the ICU for two long weeks. The parents were frightened and upset. Nobody was telling them anything, only that the baby was sick. They weren't allowed to visit either. Finally, Marie got her hands on the doctor who was in the room. 

"Enough of this! What's going on?!"

The doctor, knowing this was coming eventually, took them both in the ICU. The baby was in a glass case, a cage to the father. There were so many tubes, though not as many as before. It was drowning the newborn's body.

"So, there's a problem." They waited for ten seconds as the doctor played with his watch.

Beom, exhausted and frustrated, shouted in Korean, "Spit it out, man! Is my daughter deaf? Is she missing a toe? What is it?!" The baby cried at the sound.

"It's wrong." They both looked at each other then back at the doctor, furious. How dare he say that about their little child. "It is a boy. We ran the tests. But it's intersex."

They both muttered a huh with a confused look. They never heard that word until now.

"That means it's wrong-"

"-stop calling him that." Marie had her hand on the case, the baby relaxed and going back to sleep.

"Ma'am, that's the only proper word. It shouldn't be like this. Your baby, son, has a vagina. It has female bones. But it has the male cromesome. It's intersex, and that's wrong. Your child is biologically wrong."

Beom stood frozen in shock. He thought of the times he was a bully to gay people, specifically the one time he pushed a trans woman on the ground and called her a freak of nature. As she was being led away, she shouted that his karma would come soon. He laughed because Marie had just found out she was pregnant with their first child and life was amazing. He completely forgot about her as the miscarriages and stillborns came back to back, but now, looking through the cage, it all came to his head.

"Marie," he whispered as they walked out of the room, both still stunned. "I think this is my fault."

"No, it's mine. He grew inside me, and I didn't give him the correct things." She put her head in her hand. Truth be told, she was just relieved the baby was coming home tomorrow. This was the longest one of their children survived. However, she knew life was going to be difficult for a whole another reason.

Beom looked stone-faced, a painful type of fear and sadness in his brown eyes. "But remember, when I was teenager, I bullied the gay kids in school?" He then covered his face. "Jesus, he's going to be bullied by people who are like me. He can't even help it..."

They walked into the car, Ho and four year-old Sarah already inside. The little girl poked her aunt's arm, a big smile on her face.

"The baby is coming?" She asked, her barbie in her hand.

Marie, a tint of pain in her voice, smiled back at her. "Tomorrow. We're going to come over to your house and show you the baby. Are you excited to meet him?"

"Yes! Yes!" She excitedly turned to her father, who was driving. "Daddy, the baby is coming!"

"I know!"

Beom couldn't smile or talk. He knew this was his fault, and he knew the disgusting world his son would have to live in. This wasn't fair. This couldn't be happening.

"Daddy, what's his name? I forget." She had a little Iisp. One of her teeth were lose.

"His name is Lloyd, my princess."

---

It took ten minutes for the new parents to get home. Beom couldn't stop staring at the wall. Why? His child did nothing wrong. He didn't deserve this. Marie didn't seem to be too upset about it. She was happy that the baby wasn't dead. She's been sad recently to the point where she laid in bed all day and cried into Beom's arms. This was the first time in days that she had the energy to shower and do her makeup.

His father called an hour later. The old man wasn't doing well. It was clear that he was going to die. He was in hospice and was starting to forget everything. This made him more upset. He was a horrible teenager. He would sneak out, be disrespectful, he hated his father, and didn't hide it. The only people he was nice to were Ho and Marie, but even then, he had his asshole moments with them. Then he left for the war at eighteen and didn't talk to him for years. He came back when the poor old man was dying. All the years he wasted being bitter disgust him.

"Hello, father." He spoke in Korean.

"How's Lloyd?" His father was so excited to be a grandfather. It was nice to see, considering that he already had to bury three of his grandchildren.

Beom rubbed his forehead. He didn't know what to say. His father wasn't homophobic but wasn't exactly an ally either. He himself didn't know where he stood. He surely didn't hate them anymore.

"Um, he's coming home tomorrow. He's not as sick anymore."

"That's wonderful!" He heard the breath in his voice being taken. "Can I see him soon?"

"Tomorrow. He just needs rest for now." He couldn't hide his defeat and had to hang up.

--

The next afternoon, the baby was brought home. As promised, they took him to Sarah, who was excitedly babbling and showing him the gift Ho brought, who was proud of them. All they wanted since they started dating were children, and after twenty-something years, they finally had what they wanted. He didn't mind the baby's condition. Besides, the new child he was going to adopt soon, Hunter, also had a condition like that. Maybe they'll be friends, they'll understand each other.

Next, they brought him to Lloyd's grandpa. Being as old as he was, Beom had to help him hold him. Through his glasses, he saw the tears in his milky eyes.

"You brought her back to me." Beom swallowed a lump in his throat as Marie smiled and rubbed their backs. "My shining star."

They went home. Marie couldn't stop smiling at the baby and carrying him around. This was all she ever wanted. Her son was adorable with his brown eyes and little dark brown hairs on his head. He had a beautiful toothless smile. She didn't care what condition he had. All that mattered was that he was alive. She ordered books and was already studying his condition. She was a nurse once, after all.

When Beom got a moment alone with him, he broke down.

"I'm sorry." He whispered in Korean as his son touched his face. "I'm so sorry, I cursed you..."

He wanted to kill his teenage self. The times he made gay kids cry at school, when he pushed the woman, when he went to anit-pride marches and screamed hurtful things. Why did he do that? He understood now that nobody would choose to get killed or yelled at for something they can't control. Lloyd can't control this. Nobody would want his condition. But he has to live with this, and he's going to have to deal with people who were hateful like his father.

The doctor called. Controlling himself, he answered as Lloyd smiled at him, none the wiser of the cruel world he was born into.

"Listen, sir, I'll give you an option. We could give your child surgery, free of charge, where we could give your son a penis."

Beom smiled. This was the answer. His son wouldn't be bullied. He would never feel different, he wouldn't have to deal with hate.

"However," his smile dropped. "it's risky, and the chances of your son surviving are low."

"So why are you offering me this if you know the outcome?" His tone was bitter. He had to smile at his son and bounce his leg to calm himself down.

"Would you rather have a freak for a child or the chance to have a normal one?"

Beom stopped smiling and moving. He had to put the baby in his cradle and walk out the house, flip-phone in hand. He whispered to Marie, who was in the garden, what was said, and she was equally as incandescent.

"Sir, we don't need your service anymore, and we will be reporting you."

"But-"

"-go fuck yourself." And with that, the phone was hung up. 

Beom stared at Marie, seeing red. He didn't notice he was crying until she wiped his tears off his hot face.

"He's not even a month old and people are treating him like shit! He can't help it!" He shouted. "This isn't fair!"

"I know." She spoke in a calm tone, though it was clear she was furious. "This is what I told you about people like him for years. People will always treat him different, but we could help him understand his condition."

Beom had to take deep breaths. "I don't hate them anymore. I can't hate my own son. I love him."

"We can protect him the best we can. We can love him."

"I love him, but I hate the world he's in."

-

Two years ago, in the south of France, a young woman was having a homebirth in her hot room. She ordered the midwives to not let her parents into the room. She cursed and screamed so loud that nobody in the neighborhood could get a moment of rest the night of June 21. Finally, after four hours, the baby was out. It was a screaming little girl, red and bloody.

"Get her away from me!" She shouted when the nurse tried to put the baby on her skin. "Give her to my parents! They wanted her, not me!"

Assuming it was from the hormones and pain, the baby was taken to the family. They were the grandparents, four sisters, and three brothers. The grandfather, Pierre, couldn't stop staring at her.

"She's perfect, so healthy."

The baby was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. Her name will be given at the synagogue soon. Her mother, who needed stitches, said she wanted to see the baby. She was given to her. The little face of her daughter made her throw up in the basket next to her bed. She looked like her father, who wasn't allowed anywhere near the child nor did he attempt to come to the birth. It wasn't the baby's fault, a part of her understood that. Why did she have to be born under these circumstances?

"Please," she asked when her brother came in to give her Macdonalds. "take her away, I don't want to see her."

"I understand." The whole family except for one of the sisters and the grandfather were redheaded. The baby was no different, there was visible red hairs on her little head. "Just eat and rest. You did a really good job."

Once the baby was gone, the mother cried into her hands. She didn't want this baby. She begged her parents to have an abortion, but them, being old-fashioned, said they wouldn't pay for her college if she didn't keep it. She didn't know how to be a mom. She didn't know how to be a human being sometimes.

Her parents came in, and she exploded. She screamed, cried, and cursed at them. Her parents made her a deal. They said they would take care of the baby on weekends and during school only if she got good grades. She agreed and ordered them to piss off, which they did.

Her brother bottle-fed the baby in the dining room. He's the only one who believed her when she told him what happened, but it was hard not to love the baby. He already beat up the father, which he was grounded for. It felt so good seeing him the other day limping.

"Y'know, you kinda look like a François, I don't know why." He began to burp the baby, holding her tight. "Too bad you're a girl."

Jean Carolus -INTERIOR WITH PARENTS AND CHILD