Pregnant dad – yes, it’s true
When Scout Barbour-evans gets asked if they are expecting a boy or a girl, they have the stock answer ready: ‘‘I hope it’s human.’’
At eight months pregnant, the Dunedin takata¯ pui (gender nonbinary) – who wishes to be referred to as they and them – has been fielding a lot of sideways looks, intrusive comments and questions. Another common question is: ‘‘Who’s the dad?’’ to which the single by choice Otago Polytech student and volunteer responds: ‘‘It’s me. My child will call me pa¯ pa¯ .’’
Barbour-evans used a sperm donor as they’d ‘‘desperately wanted to have a child’’ and felt it was the right time with their degree reaching completion next year and their jobs and classes being family-friendly.
They were also keen to move to the next step of their transition: Getting a hysterectomy.
Barbour-evans became pregnant a few months after getting a double mastectomy. Stopping testosterone for the pregnancy and putting their transition on hold has been difficult.
‘‘Not being able to take my testosterone and anxiety and sleep medication meant that during the first trimester I was having those four-hour-long panic attacks, but it did normalise and settle as my body got used to it.’’
Other transgender dads are able to hide their pregnancy, passing it off as a beer belly, but Barbour-evans’ small frame makes that impossible.
This means getting misgendered a lot.
Barbour-evans might talk openly about their gender and mental health woes in the media – they were the first transgender person to run for the Dunedin mayoralty in 2016 – but they don’t correct people or launch into lengthy explanations every time people make the wrong assumption. ‘‘If it’s my friends and they already know me, then I’ll probably say something and correct them. But when it is coming from a stranger or a shopkeeper, I don’t know if it’s safe to come out as trans.’’
Internet trolls have called them crazy and mentally ill, ‘‘which I am’’, Barbour-evans says, ‘‘but it has nothing to do with my gender’’.
‘‘Some say they’ll contact Oranga Tamariki to say I am an abusive parent just because the child, who isn’t even born yet, is going to call me pa¯ pa¯ .’’
Barbour-evans has avoided antenatal groups because they felt they didn’t belong.
‘‘The language in these groups is always like: Come on, ladies, come on, mamas. It is strongly gendered and I understand why but I don’t feel safe.’’
According to the Ministry of Health, trans people are often over represented in poor health outcomes but ‘‘few of these poor outcomes are caused by a transgender identity itself, but rather by discrimination from wha¯nau, health services and those in wider society’’.
New Zealand is a bit behind other countries in terms of reproductive justice, Barbour-evans says. ‘‘We still hear stories about young trans men thinking testosterone acts as a contraceptive, which it doesn’t. I’ve had to do a lot of the work making sure that every single person I am seeing is going to be understanding and adapting practices to meet mine and my wha¯ nau’s needs.’’
Most of the legal and medical paperwork refers to pregnant people as ‘‘the woman’’ or ‘‘the mother’’ but Barbour-evans is pleased their child’s birth certificate will have them listed as the child’s father.
Recent legal changes make it possible for trans and gay parents to be listed in the way they identify in relation to their children.