Do I Want a Boy or a Girl?
Am I allowed to have a preference in today's gender-bending world?
They say nervousness and excitement are basically the same sensations in our body. The difference is the story we attach to it.
Right now, I’m trying to allow my body to feel nervous and excited and suspend any stories.
In less than 48 hours, we will know the sex of our first child.
The Question?
People often ask, “Do you want a boy or a girl?”
I say I’m impartial.
Like most things in life, there are pros and cons to both.
Boys seem to require a bit more energetic, hands-on, roughhousing — something I’m certainly ready for as I already prefer rolling on the floor to sitting in a chair.
Girls seem lovely at first and then hit puberty and lots of confusing things happen that I’m not prepared for.
Of course, these are assumptions, big ones.
How much of this is true versus gender stereotypes I’ve been fed by the media? I have no idea.
It seems like every child is unique.
Call it a genetic blueprint, the quirks of prenatal development, or the baby’s soul, there are probably more differences between groups of boys or girls than there are across them. (What science calls this intra-group versus inter-group variability.)
The Danger of a Single Story
I can prepare all I want to raise a boy or girl, but boy or girl regardless, the little one will bring its particular flavor of fun (and poop).
This is the strange irony of talking about an unborn child: I have absolutely no idea how our new family unit will change (and disrupt) our existing family dynamic.
It’s like talking about how good of a husband I’ll be before I’ve ever met my wife. Let’s see how the rubber meets the road, buddy.
Making unilateral claims that discount the temperament and personality of our baby seems rather foolish.
Therefore, claiming I prefer one sex or another rests on entirely one-sided perspectives that negate the relationality of it all — single stories I’m telling myself about the future.
Yet is this not the prerogative of every new parent? Dreaming possibilities of what life will be like with a new family unit. Didn’t evolution give us 9 months to let our imagination run wild?
Deeper Questions?
The whole boy vs girl question is chock full of implicit value judgments about gender and children.
Firstly, why ask about something we have absolutely no control over (IVF excluded). It’s like asking if you’d like it to be windy tomorrow or rainy. I’ll take whatever comes.
Secondly, saying male/female has pros and cons is kind of a cop-out answer. Not only is it a trite truism (everything in life has pros and cons), it seems kinda inhumane.
It treats a person like a product — Baby A comes with state-of-the-art features while Baby B is equipped with last year’s software — as if I’m waiting for Wirecutter to tell me which baby is the best.
Thirdly, the question creates a false trade-off. Not only between biologically male and biologically female (there’s ~1% chance that the baby is neither), but between gender identification.
The world we live in has broken down gender binaries. Gender orientation, much like sexual orientation, is very much open to personal choice. Our baby might choose to change its gender and who am I to argue otherwise? I know this is a big question for parents.
It’s one reason we are considering gender-neutral names. Make the kiddo feel unconstrained to become whoever they need to be. Their name shouldn’t be a barrier. At least that’s how the line of thinking goes.
What kind of damage am I doing by creating narratives around preferring a boy or girl when this fledgling human may decide to shed that identity entirely?
Fourthly, there’s still a patriarchal legacy that gives more value to boys to carry the family name. Thankfully, this is not at all in our current cultural or family consciousness, but it can be for the person asking.
You know how sometimes people ask a question that they really just want to answer themselves?
“Do you want chocolate or vanilla? (Insert zero pause to actually allow for a response) Actually, I want both swirled together in a cone with sprinkles. And by the way, girls are better.” — Thanks for asking?
Look, I get it. It’s an easy question to ask. When you find out someone is pregnant, the next thing you say, “Is it a boy or a girl? Do you know? Do you want to find out? Do you have a preference?”
At the moment I don’t know. I do want to find out. I don’t have a preference.
Why Do I Want To Know The Sex?
As I said earlier, creating narratives and expectations in my head that revolve around one sex seems shortsighted and potentially damaging in a world where gender-neutral is the progressive ideal.
Why would I want to know our baby’s sex if not to create stories in my head about the future?
This is precisely what I’m going to do.
I want to dream. I want to imagine.
And my ego wants to feel in control.
If knowing the baby’s sex helps create a facade of control, I’ll take it. Even if I know it’s a shoddy form of reassurance, it helps to ease the anxiety of something as life-changing as becoming a dad.
Can I somehow better prepare myself for the trials and tribulations of new parenthood by knowing if our baby has two X chromosomes? Seems unlikely.
But at this point, anything goes. We may have a boy named Shannon, a girl named Sam, or a million things in between. While I may prefer one over another based upon a whole lot of speculation, I will love whatever shows up.
(Or will I? What if you don’t immediately love your child? Argh. This will require another essay. Check back in 6 months, or 60 years.)
Stay tuned…