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The First Futa

John and Martha had finally settled down. It had been tough, and John still wouldn't talk about Vietnam, but he'd managed to find work, unlike many of his brothers in arms. Martha was supportive, helping keep the families finances in line by working as a typist, but the pregnancy that had been growing since their joyous reunion had been slowing her down.

John had wanted a son, and his face lit up every time they talked about the child thriving in Martha, every time he saw the bump in her dress. Martha wanted a girl, though was more then willing to give in to her husbands fantasies, readily encouraging him. They talked about little else. John refused to talk about the job he'd gotten, though he didn't grumble about his paychecks. Though inconsistent, they were enough to get by.

Martha was at work when it happened. Her water broke, and her boss rushed her to the hospital in a panic about women revolting. No one knew how to get a hold of John. There was no number for his work, nothing. Martha faced the pregnancy in the company of doctors and nurses, but no one else.

When John arrived home, he found his mother-in-law staring him down with fury, pushing him back into his car and demanding the hospital. John drove goofily the entire way, the berating he was receiving no competition for his elation.

When he finally arrived, his wife lay peacefully, covered in clean blue sheets, a small bundle of white cloth held to her breast. John couldn't contain his smile, despite the strange crowd his wife had attracted. The doctors spoke at him but he was far to elated to listen, practically floating across the floor to his wife. Finally as he sat, and stared with a smile at the small bundle of white and pink held in his wifes arms, he heard their words.

John got his son. Sort of. And Martha got her daughter. Kind of. The doctors had been telling John of the sheer unlikelihood of the birth. Of how a fully functional hermaphrodite had never been born before.

John and Martha didn't care. They got what they wanted. They mostly struggled over the name.

What's next?

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