Via Funky Shapes @ Flickr.
Sunday night I held a dinner party for some friends and neighbors, two of whom were pregnant, although not far enough along to know the sex of the fetus. Both of them–and their husbands–agreed that they were going to find out as soon as a sonogram could catch a reliable crotch shot.
One of my other friends said, “Oh, I don’t know why people think it’s so important to know. I mean, what difference does it make, really?”
There was some startled laughter and jokes about how we all hate pink and blue crap at baby showers, so no, they didn’t want to know for nursery-decoration purposes. But the friend persisted: “I mean, if you feel that way, why know? Will you really bond with the baby differently if you know its gender?”
It was a provocative question. Do expectant parents begin dreaming of frilly dresses for girls and baseball gloves for boys as soon as they find out their fetus’s sex? Is that the start point for gendernormativity? And even if it is…would it really make any difference if parents delay that knowledge for four months?
I have never been pregnant, but if I were, I would want to know the gender of the fetus as soon as possible. I’ve heard some parents talk gleefully about how they want to “be surprised.” Not me. I am not a spontaneous person by nature and I generally do not like surprises. Ignorance is not bliss for me–it’s my kryptonite. So waiting nine months to find out whether I was having a son or daughter does NOT appeal to me one bit. I would want that key piece of info ASAP so I could start planning my life as a mom.
Would I be planning differently if the child was one gender or the other? Fuck yes. While I dislike traditional gender norms, there’s no doubt whatsoever that a girl’s experience of the world is very different from a boy’s. Some of that is thanks to biological differences, but social conditioning is an undeniable reality, and it starts early.
Boys and girls have different needs; the world treats them differently, since there’s no “outside the Patriarchy“. I’d teach my daughters how to assert themselves and insist on the same privileges as boys, and I’d teach my sons to tone down their aggression and regard girls as equals, no matter what society may tell them. I’d be happy to have a few additional months to contemplate–and plan for–all this before the midwife places the baby in my arms.
I also think that finding out your child’s gender before it’s born allows for some time to adjust emotionally to the information–for better or for worse. For example, the youngest of my three brothers was basically conceived in the hopes that he’d have a vagina. My stepmom really wanted a girl. When the results of the amnio came back with “MALE” in the “Sex” column, she sat on the bedroom floor and cried. She felt a real sense of grief; she knew he was her last child and this meant she would never be the mother of a daughter. Had she waited on pins and needles for nine months, I think she would have been absolutely devastated in the delivery room. But because she found out earlier, by the time he was born she had processed her sense of loss and was ready to welcome him with the same joy as if he’d been the longed-for girl.
I don’t judge the people who want to wait and be surprised. Not long ago my mother and aunt laughed about the days when “you just didn’t know until they showed up, so you had two names ready!” (Full disclosure: I would have been named Ethan if I’d come with the other set of equipment). Leaving aside the problem of sex-selective abortion in some cultures, I don’t think there’s ever any negative to learning your child’s gender before it’s born, and there can be some significant positives. What do you think?
ah this is a subject close to my heart and one on which I feel entirely differently to you. I really don’t see why people want to know, I don’t object to it but it just seems a bit pointless to me unless you are one of these people who decorates nurseries etc.
And talking of preconceptions there’s an excellent piece by the British author Maggie O’Farrell which ran in the Guardian about how she asked, was told girl and then gave birth to a boy- it had a profound affect on her as though the child she had carried for nine months had died and a changeling had appeared instead. Now this isn’t a common experience of course but it’s worth a read.
I also not sure that i agree about needing the extra months – motherhood is a long period of time anyway – there’s plenty of time to educate your daughter and actually I happen to believe that a son needs just as much if not more educating if he’s not to perpetrate said patriarchy. Plus while I’m sorry for your stepmother I also have to admit to not really being at all comfortable with the idea that you must have a girl or must have a boy or get pregnant to have one. I have a girl but that doesn’t mean that I’d be upset if said current fetus turned out to be a girl as well and i can’t say that I’m desperate for my one of each matching set. It’s my child regardless and I’m sure it’ll be as monstrous/lovely/entertaining and silly as the first one.
Ultimately though I suppose I never met people who found out about the sex until I moved to the US and now I’m the only person I know who doesn’t. I don’t know asking about it would just seem to me like reading the last chapter of a book before you were half way through. So I suppose I understand your points Becky but er I just don’t agree with them.
I can totally see wanting to know, but personally I hypothetically-future-won’t. I think your stepmom’s situation makes the most sense – if you know you have strong expectations, it makes sense to manage them with the most information you can.
But for me, I want there to be time to prepare for both eventualities, to think “If it’s a boy I get to prepare for X and if it’s a girl I get to prepare for Y” so that I don’t develop strong feelings one way or the other, or immediately start thinking of another kid in hopes of getting the other gender.
I cosign, emilyanne. But you may have already guessed as much.
Honestly I DO think that it helps some parents bond better. Not because of the sex but because it makes it seem more “real” and less like a fetus. You know? Not for everyone but some people. I just had dinner with a friend on Sunday and she’s about 3 months pregnant and is cannot wait to find out the sex and she expressed basically that sentiment. Also, interesting side-note, she’s Indian and she was saying that in India its illegal for parents to be told the baby’s sex.
How many ultrasounds do women usually get and when? I was born in the late ’80s in Canada and my mom had one ultrasound at 16 weeks. At that point the doctors couldn’t tell her the sex and she didn’t need another ultrasound. So she didn’t know the sex. I think it was the same for my sister too. I think she might have had to pay for another ultrasound since it wasn’t medically necessary. She was fine with not knowing but it wasn’t completely her choice. But she has this idea that pregnancy would feel like it’s lasting longer if you find out and there’s no suspense.
@emilyanne: My own feelings probably have to do more with my control-freaky need to plan and know exactly what I’m dealing with in every situation.(why yes, this tendency DOES occasionally complicate my life, thanks for asking!). I suspect that plays into a lot of other people’s decision to find out their child’s gender–in today’s Blackberry-fied society, we want to know what we want to know RIGHT NOW.
As for my family, my stepmom had two boys and really wanted a girl, and decided to try one more time. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. She wanted to mother a daughter, since she was very close to her own mother and wanted to have that bond with her own daughter. I totally understand why she was sad when she learned it was not going to happen. I probably would have felt the same, for exactly the same reason.
@bluebears: It’s illegal in India because their government is trying to cut down on sex-selective abortions, lest they wind up with a massive gender imbalance like China’s. From what I’ve read, though, the policy hasn’t been all that effective in cutting down on sex-selective abortions (and might very well contribute to infanticide).
I don’t think there’s ever any negative to learning your child’s gender before it’s born
I disagree with this. From what I’ve seen in the behavior of other parents, the minute they know the sex of the baby they completely conceptualize the kid differently depending on whether it’s a girl or a boy. Even down to the ways they describe the baby’s movements (i.e. a kick in response to a sudden movement gets “oh, that scared her” if they think it’s a girl but “ooh that made him mad!” if they think it’s a boy). The fact is, we totally interpret a persons behavior differently depending on which gender we take them to be, and putting that off for as long as possible is better, in my view. And then there’s the fact that we’re the only people I know who didn’t do the pink princess or blue baseballs thing, which pisses me right the fuck off. So I think that placing less weight on the baby’s gender is the first step in the right direction.
As to the being prepared and thinking about how you’ll handle the kid differently due to their niche in the patriarchy… A newborn is basically inert for the first month or so. And you’ll have plenty of time during that period to think about it. But the fact is, this isn’t really the kind of thing you can map out and have a grand plan for. In reality, feminist parenting happens on the ground in an ever-evolving set of responses to situations and books and TV shows and conversations. And as they get older you talk with them about all this stuff, and help them process it and see the differences in how people are treated and become critical thinkers. But of course, none of that starts until language is in place, so in the meantime all you have to do is fend off the pink clothes and the princess merchandise (or the blue baseball shit) and pleaseantly but firmly insist that people not speak to or treat them like dainty weak little creatures (or pull the whole boys-will-be-boys thing).
My perspective is a little skewed on this particular issue.
We found out when I was pregnant with my first daughter pretty much for the reasons Becky describes, but I can genuinely say that the knowledge was neither exhilarating or deflating, it just was. We didn’t find out with my second daughter for the reason that emily anne describes. We didn’t care either way, and it wasn’t obvious from the sonogram so we just left it a ‘surprise’.
When my second daughter died I really regretted not knowing. I wished that I had known her name while I was pregnant with her. I felt like I had missed out on really ‘knowing’ her, because I didn’t know her sex. Now I’m aware that this sounds completely irrational and also I little presumptous on my part. Clearly, attributing a personality to a foetus based on their sex is part of what contributes to our cuture of heteronormativity in the first place. But, rightly or wrongly, I wish I’d known.
I found out my son’s sex as soon as I could with my most recent pregnancy and I’m glad I did because I needed to come to terms with the fact that I really was having a different baby this time, that he wasn’t just a substitute for my dead daughter, but an individual in his own right.
I hope this isn’t too much of an overshare. Thankfully my situation is not typical and I’m certainly not suggesting that one should find out the sex of your baby in case it dies(!) My point is that finding out the sex of your baby can have quite complex motivations and not just be about tutus and baseball mitts.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently. My sister just had a baby 2 weeks ago and we (my mom and both of my sisters) were sure she was having a boy. When my niece arrived were all sort of like, “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.” It wasn’t a bad thing at all, but it kind of smacks you over the head with how much you can project gender norms on to an unborn child.
That said, I am really glad she didn’t find out ahead of time given the RIDICULOUS amount of pink clothes that have arrived since the baby was born.
My plan right now is to not find out the sex — basically, I want to avoid any gender-based advice (and particularly cliches) during my pregnancy.
I’d rather not deal with oh-so-hilarious remarks about guarding my future teen daughter with a shot gun, or how boys are harder to potty train, or whatever. I guess all parents have to deal with that inanity both before and after the birth, but I’d like to put it off as long as possible.
@Rachel: So true about the whole gender stereotyping right away. When people see a newborn and know it’s a girl, they automatically go “oh, she’s so pretty” and if it’s a boy, “oh, he’s so big and strong.” This despite the fact that you often can’t tell a newborn’s gender just by looking at its face (hence the icky proliferation of pink and blue crap). I don’t think that not knowing the gender of a fetus would mean the kid escapes that–it just would mean that as a mom, you wouldn’t have to put up with the gendernormative shit while you were pregnant. Which is a pretty good incentive for not knowing, now that I think about it…
Also, when I put lotion on my niece’s skin (it was a bit dry) I said, “Look! Your first interaction with the beauty industrial complex!”
(My sister and brother-in-law thought this was hysterical.)
And on the topic of bonding with the unborn baby (which was kind of an issue I had, since I didn’t really feel pregnant most of the time) you can always go with the gender-neutral name option, and name them in-utero. My daughter was Quinn for a couple of months before she was born, and that whole time we didn’t know her sex. But most people found that the strangest thing of all.
@emilyanne I definitely agree that feminist parenting is just as crucial for boys as for girls.
@ BeckySharper It is true that the whole gendered interpretation of behavior thing will start up immediately at birth no matter what you do. And it’s so, so irritating! But I do think that for most people in our culture, the reason why knowing the sex of the baby is so important is that they don’t know how to conceptualize a person without gender.
AfterIris – thanks for your post because actually that does make total sense and isn’t irrational at all in my opinion. I agree that there are far more motivations than those outlined, i just wish that people didn’t feel the need for the endless pink/blue stuff.
Rachel, absolutely – one of the best things about not knowing – we have barely if any pink stuff at all. It just wasn’t on people’s radars. For which I say hurrah.
WishingWellRed – tell me about it, it drives me insane.
Becky – no I do get that re your stepmother, i didn’t want to sound too dismissive, it’s just not something that i personally feel (although maybe it’s a different thing seeing as i actually have a daughter). As to the blackberry culture, this is why I like not knowing as well because sometimes it’s nice not to have everything in your life planned. That’s probably just me though.
I’ve been thinking it’s a good idea not to tell other people the sex, if anything just to avoid pink-or-blue gifts. (Though I’m superstitious about giving/receiving ANY gifts before the birth.) But if/when I get pregnant, it would be really hard to wait. I don’t like surprises, of any kind, and if I found myself secretly hoping for a boy or girl, I would want to know the sex to avoid any feeling resembling disappointment at the birth.
In watching my friends, it seems knowing the gender transforms the fetus from a thing into a person–though by the time you know the gender, maybe the pregnancy’s far enough along that it’s time for that mental change to take place anyway.
AfterIris, I’m so sorry for your loss.
For me, knowing the sex was reassuring, although I would have been ecstatic with either. I had previously had a miscarriage after years of trying and fertility treatments, and had a subchorionic bleed quite early in my pregnancy, which put me on bedrest. The whole pregnancy felt very, very fragile and tenuous. Most pregnant women think “When the baby’s born…” while I would think “IF the baby’s born…” Knowing what I was having made it a bit more concrete and real.
The other thing is that while you can find out, you don’t have to tell other people, thus skipping the endless blue/pink shit.
I hope to have a child in a few years, and my husband and I have talked a lot about this. We’re both in favor of a surprise, though that’s easy to say now, not in the thick of things. I’ll admit, the idea of frustrating some extended family members’ tendencies to go over-the-top in gender-norm baby gifts makes me cackle.
One point in favor of finding out that I hear is to use pronouns other than “it,” to ‘humanize’ the baby. Which I think could help with bonding for many people, and that could certainly be the case with me someday. Though, again, hearing relatives’ reactions to using “zir” and “zie” might be kind of awesome.
Oh, and back to gender-normative baby crap: I saw two babies in the last week wearing headbands with little bows. They were elastic, and the mothers were constantly readjusting them. Plus they looked uncomfortable. Plus the babies had hardly any hair. But they were pretty, pretty princess girls, and the world needed to know it. Never noticed this before, is this new?
Never noticed this before, is this new?
No. The bows, pierced ears for baby girls, pink/blue clothes–none of that’s new. Like it would be the End of the WORLD if someone didn’t immediately know what sex an infant was.
ShinyObjects – I hate those headbands with the fire of a thousand suns. How’s this for pretty, pretty princess crap: my 2 1/2 year old daughter was given a pink bag full of make-up as a ‘big sister’ present when my son was born. The same people gave my son a bear dressed in their soccer team’s kit.
FashionablyEvil — That’s one thing I don’t get – people who get offended if you guess the sex of their baby wrong. Who cares? People think my son is a girl all the time because he has a lot of hair and I don’t dress him in truck-themed stuff all the time. So?
As to the headbands, I think they are pretty lame, though my niece actually needs one (or hair clips) – at 6 months old she’s already had two hair cuts.
My cousin and her husband decided not to find out the sex of their baby because they wanted the husband to be the first to know something about their child in some respect. My cousin was the first to know she was pregnant, the first to feel the baby kick and move – you can’t really share a pregnancy equally with your husband. So he got to be the first one to know they had a boy. I thought that was sweet.
I have two pregnant friends right now, one who’s going to find out as soon as she can, and one who’s going to be surprised. I can’t imagine what I’d do, although as I said, I really liked the way my cousin and her husband endeavored to share.
I needed to know. HAD TO know. Like you Becky, I hate surprises and I really felt like knowing the sex of my baby and being able to call him by his name made the bonding so much easier. Plus I’ll admit to being a nursery-decorator and a baby-stuff buyer. Have you tried to buy gender neutral stuff recently? Not just clothes, but swings and bouncy seats and strollers. I KNOW it shouldn’t matter but I found it hard to buy things with pink butterflies on them.
You know what I noticed today? My son has just moved from his 0-3 month clothes to his 3-6 months clothes and these new outfits are so BOY. The infant stuff was all pastels and yellows and greens and oranges and whales and giraffes (and a lot of blue, true) but this larger stuff is RED and BLUE and GREEN and TRUCKS and SPORTS. I guess they assume that even if you’re buying neutral at the beginning, by 6 months your baby needs to learn to be manly.
And I know I’m going on forever but I just wanted to add that since the last baby-sex discussion I’ve become a lot more mindful of the words I use when I talk to the baby. It’s hard to stop other people from calling him a “big strong boy” but I can certainly focus more on how smart or funny he is. So thank you, Harpies, I feel like a better mother already.
I’m in the not-knowing camp, but a Jewish friend of mine recently offered the most convincing argument I’ve ever heard for wanting to know: the potential of having to host a bris on the kid’s sixth day on the planet. I can see wanting to know that little tidbit in advance.
I have two kids, a boy and a girl. I did not want to know the sex and with the exception of families that have sex linked health/medical issues I think knowing is over rated. And I work with hundreds of children under three and I can’t tell you how many boys I’ve met who were “supposed to be” girls. I wonder what the level of disappointment is there?
OR
You just do what you like, and fuck what anyone has to say about it.
I would favor not knowing, because kids grow up in a blink anyway, and you scarcely have time to savor the moments big and small. And we are part of the reason they grow up so fast, we ‘fast forward’ them in our minds, let out rope, advance school them.. if we know the gender prebirth, we begin this ‘fast forwarding’ even sooner, we begin picturing colleges and grandkids before the kid is even in the crib. I always tell people SLOW DOWN, it will be over SO SOON as it is.
Wow, I go to lunch and this thread takes off! Thanks for all your thoughts, y’all.
@afteriris: Thanks for sharing–I’m so sorry for what you went through. That’s a really good perspective on this topic that I hadn’t considered.
The lesson I’m learning here is that even if I MUST know, I will seriously consider not telling anyone (outside of immediate family) just to spare myself the onslaught of people yakking away at me with all those gender stereotypes for 4 months.
And Zippa, you make a good point about the bris. I’d be EXTREMELY relieved to know ahead of time that I wouldn’t have to deal with that.
I’m not a person who likes surprises, but when I was pregnant, I didn’t want to know. Part of it was that everyone around you can be really pushy when you’re pregnant (and when your children are young) to do things This Way, and I just wanted to take what I could out of the argument. (I’m referring to my mother, of course, who was really mad at me that I didn’t want to know.) Also, I’m the only person I know who had only one ultrasound, and it was early, so might have been inconclusive or wrong regarding my baby’s sex, anyway. I wasn’t about to have another ultrasound just so my mom could go shopping for pink or blue baby clothes.
Funny thing, I really wanted a girl and was convinced I was having one, but as soon as my son was born, I couldn’t remember why. He’s my boy-clone anyway. It’s fun to see what I might have turned out like if I had been a boy.
@afteriris, thanks for your story
When my sil was pregnant after various in vitro procedures, my brother and sil decided against finding out the sex beforehand.
He said that the pregnancy felt so staged from start to finish that he wanted an element of surprise.
I am such a junkie for surprises, that there is no way I will find out. Plus, I cannot keep secrets from people. As a result, if I found out, I would end up telling everyone the sex and then end up with millions of blue or pink onsies and want to murder everyone.
Seriously, about a year ago I had to buy something for a shower for the first time, and I was utterly amazed by how difficult it was to buy a gender-neutral gift.
Like many of the people above, I didn’t especially want the surprise. I thought there would be more than enough surprises involved with the whole birth process anyway. Also, it was going to be a surprise whether I found out at 20 weeks or 40.
Additionally, I’d had a couple of miscarriages and we were leaping on every bit of good news we got about my successful pregnancy.
I certainly understand not wanting genderization any earlier than necessary, but it happens even if you don’t know. I can’t think of how many times I heard that I must have a boy or girl because I was so sick and everyone knew that boys were ornery or girls were difficult, depending on their prejudices.
I’m trying to get pregnant right now, and I admit that I want a girl. Of course I’ll love another boy just as much, and it’s probably irrational, but that doesn’t change that it is.
@Rachel: well said.
@afteriris: I also send my sincere sympathy for your loss.
For what it’s worth, we didn’t want to know either time, and both son and daughter are fiercely feminist. So much of parenting is going with the flow and learning to let your kid be who s/he is-maybe this is a good first opportunity to practice those skills.
And one more piece of advice: tell everyone that your due date is 2 weeks later than it is. Otherwise you begin to get calls from family and friends saying things like “are you still here?” for about a month, and if the baby is late, (as both of ours were-Jewish time!) it can drive you crazy.
I’m in a similar boat to Maritsa – had an ectopic last summer, been trying for 18 months, finally pregnant but still too cautious to say anything beyond “Well, if this one comes to term” or “If things progress.” I’m definitely finding out the gender because it will make things more concrete, maybe help me bond with the fetus/baby/baby-in-progress, since I’ve been really wary of forming any attachment with it before now. And…I’m curious. No real harm done.
Oh yes, I’ll ditto that bit about lying about your due date! I gave people a due month. They would all try to pin me on a date, but I wouldn’t tell ‘em.
I wanted to find out the sex of our baby. Weirdly, it was more that I couldn’t stand the fact that the doctor and the u/s tech would know something about my baby that I wouldn’t. I bought entirely gender neutral bedding & decorations (very hard to do!) and apparently scared most folks into buying gender neutral clothes.
Now that she’s 18 months they’re all WAY gendered, and I just try to keep it in perspective. Of course, her ears aren’t pierced and we do no hairbows, and we frequently get comments on our “boy.” Most funny to me is that I could care less– toddlers aren’t all that gendered– but people fall all over themselves apologizing!
I have thought about finding out but not telling anyone if we have another. I hated hearing all that crud from people. I make sure to tell folks how strong and smart and funny my daughter is (because she is) and she happens to be beautiful, too. I imagine with a boy it’d be similar parenting choices, just applied to a new personality in our house, right?
I’m 23 weeks pregnant and initially I was on the fence. But the more real the pregnancy became the more I wanted to know. Particularly after having a couple of scares where we thought we might be losing the baby. I still feel like I’m holding my breath so knowing I’m having a boy is something concrete to hold onto.
Also, for me I really wanted a girl but was in some ways relieved to find out I was having a boy. My mother died when I was young and knowing that I was having a boy was like an affirmation that I’m not destined to repeat my mother’s life and death because she had a girl first. And somehow I think (wrongly I know) that it would be easier on a boy if I die young than a girl. Not logical or right but it is how I feel.
Either way, girl or boy my husband was adamant that the child would play hockey and lacrosse (we live in Canada). I’ve been really happy to find that his expectations on what activities our child would do were the same regardless of gender and he was really vocal about that before we found out the sex. I’m also making clear to family and friends that I want lots of gender neutral clothing.
My daughter is just over two weeks old and we waited to find out. I was utterly convinced we were having a boy, but we didn’t refer to the baby by either name we’d picked out. In fact, throughout the entire pregnancy, we called the baby Schrodinger (as in the cat thought experiment) because we didn’t know.
Not knowing enabled us to fend off all kinds of parenting “advice”, which I appreciated.
All of her baby stuff is green and yellow, except for the gifts that arrived after she was born. All of that is pink.
@evil_fizz I like the Schrodinger reference. When we were in the “am I actually pregnant?” and “Is there still someone in there?” stages, I called my uterus my Schrodinger Box.