‘E-pregnancy’: women in China choose quirky method to save cash by putting money ‘spent’ on virtual baby in bank

Given they are defined by a digital age of uncertainty, it should come as no surprise that China’s Generation Z has turned to the virtual world in search of a family, and a way to save money.

The age cohort generally accepted to have been born between 1996 and 2010 have embraced “e-pregnancy”, a virtual game in which participants can experience some of the trials, tribulations and excitement of a real birth, minus the physical, and financial pain.

Players plan their “pregnancy” and allocate funds for different items that requires while all the time the money “spent” is deposited in their bank account as savings.

Virtual games have long resonated with China’s digital generation, for example, who can forget the pet-raising Tamagotchi craze of several years ago.

Now, as the real cost of living continues to rise, young adults are looking to save whatever they can. Cue a virtual game that offers an introduction to the business of bringing up baby, while saving a bit of cash at the same time.

Simulated expenses range from pregnancy tests and folic acid supplements to prenatal check-ups.

Xiaoding, an unemployed, post-millennial woman became such a player in September. She set her initial persona as being three months pregnant and named her baby Tiki.

“Many celebrities announce their pregnancies after three months. I thought maybe it’s because the pregnancy is stable by then,” she told iFeng.com.

In her first post she said: “Today, I felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. I haven’t had my period for two months, so I boldly predict that I might be pregnant.

“I immediately ordered some pregnancy tests. To ensure accuracy. I bought three, spending about 30 yuan (US$4),” she said.

The amount was then deposited as savings into her account and other women who followed her “pregnancy” online did the same, putting the same amount of money in their own accounts..

Her baby-raising narrative also included the purchases of folic acid and some crucian carp tofu soup for nourishment, with prices ranging from 10 to 200 yuan.

In just two weeks, Xiaoding’s followers grew from dozens to tens of thousands, many of whom shared screenshots of bank transactions in the comments section to keep pace with her storyline.

Many even personalised scenarios based on her plot. Some opted for a “premium parenting version,” involving imported health supplements and private hospitals to increase the amounts saved.

However, the participants also faced some challenges during this interaction.

Some said limited incomes only allow them to simulate one mother at a time, as more might bankrupt them.

Others shared that unexpected “expenses” sometimes made it difficult to sustain the “pregnancy”, forcing them to “abort”.

Miaomiao, a 23-year-old graphic designer from the central province of Chongqing and a follower of Xiaoding, considered “terminating” her virtual pregnancy after four months, during which she had successfully saved 2,050 yuan (US$280).

“Of course, the expense of an ‘abortion’ must be saved in my account, and I wish I can take some time for ‘sitting-the-month’ to restore my body,” Miaomiao jokingly said.

However, this online savings role-play did not translate into an increased desire for real-life parenting.

Xiaoding said: “Pretending to raise a baby is just a way to motivate them to save money. And many women still have strong fears and reservations about child birth.”

Miaomiao agreed, saying: “Watching too much about pregnancy makes me uncomfortable. It’s too immersive.”

It has also sparked discussion among real parents who said real parenthood is more complex and expensive than what is portrayed virtually.

One online observer said: “I’m afraid that people who have experienced it virtually may become even less willing to have children.”