More than just Pink and Trains: Sharing the Sex of our Baby

Honestly, I’m not overwhelmingly excited to share the sex of our baby with others. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to learn a little more about who my baby is but I’m afraid to tell others. I’m afraid of their responses or what that information means to them.  My husband and I have some, we've come to learn, nontraditional views of sex and gender. Every time I talk about finding out what sex the baby is Paul tells me “all we are finding out is what genitals it has nothing else.”  And I guess that’s where the fear begins for me. I’m afraid that when I tell people whether my baby has a penis or a vagina that assumptions will be made about who they are and what they will become.

See, I’m fine saying we are having a boy or a girl but I’m afraid that in telling others boundaries will suddenly appear directing who that child can be. All we are finding out is what genitals the baby has. We are not finding out what color the baby will prefer be it pink, blue, green, chartreuse, ox-blood, etc. We are not finding out what interests the baby will have; trucks, coloring, dress-up, cooking, construction, building, singing, reading, silence etc. We are not finding out what career they might one day aspire to, or how they might express their feelings. We are only finding out what genitals the baby has. And as our child grows and experiences the world around them we want our baby to be able to feel free to pass from one interest to another, one color preference to another, and not feel a sense to conform to an expectation or anticipation of who they are because of their body parts. 

When Paul and I first started talking about whether or not we would find out the sex people felt very free in giving us their opinions. We heard lots of responses like “Well it’s just better to know that way you can plan.” Ummm…I don’t understand…plan what? As far as my baby knowledge goes, regardless of sex, the baby is still a human and has the same basic needs. Regardless of sex the baby will still poop, and eat, and sleep, and scream, and cry, and poop, and eat and cry some more and sleep some more with maybe a few variations thrown in there. What more is there to plan for? I’m pretty sure a baby won’t care whether it’s wearing pink, or blue, or the color of the season. It won’t care whether it has “gender neutral” green and yellow walls or hot pink or a safari themed nursery. I’m pretty sure the only “planning” necessary is in making sure we are fully equipped to meet the baby’s needs.

At one point Paul and I were seriously talking about finding out the sex ourselves but not sharing it with others. That got a lot of responses too. Most of them pertaining to why it would make having a baby shower more difficult and the much repeated phrase of “but you don’t want a bunch of green and yellow things!” Well you’re right – I don’t want a bunch of yellow and green – I just want my child to feel complete freedom in their options. Regardless of sex I want my child to have options. I don’t want all green and yellow. I want it all. I want pink AND blue, and green and yellow, and red, and polka dots and any and everything until my child indicates to me that they would prefer a specific direction in their color preferences.

But it’s more than color. It’s the societal notion that inherently genderless/sexless things possess or reflect gender. Pink has a vagina and trains have penises. One of the first baby items I bought once I knew we were expecting was a bib that had a picture of a train on a black background with red piping that read “chew, chew” across the top. I can’t count the number of people who said “Oh you must be having a boy” which just really surprised me. I hadn't thought anything about the sex of the baby in purchasing the bib just that I liked the play on words. I’m afraid because the gender rearing and boundaries starts so early and with such silly things like pink and trains. If we have gender boundaries about pink and trains and we are already putting boundaries on humans before they are out of the womb – then I’m very afraid for my child. I’m afraid of how much firmer and stricter and tighter the boundaries might get when the baby is actually born or when it can talk or walk or show some indication of independent interest or when they go to school or when they choose a career. How much harder will it be to break bigger boundaries than just pink and trains? That’s why I’m scared to tell people the sex of my baby.

I’m scared that too soon expectations and boundaries will be placed on their identity. So maybe I can save them from that for a little bit longer. Save them from parties where I fear with a sex known that presents and colors and options will start indicating one specific path. That’s why I’m scared. Or am I?

Am I scared for my baby or am I scared for me? I think if I’m honest it’s a little bit of both. I am scared that I will have to start fighting for and defending my child before they are even born. I am scared that I will have to have difficult conversations with people or instantly be put in a category as one of ‘those’ parents. I am scared of being seen as too opinionated and too outspoken and too bold and forward and well, gasp, a bitch. And although I am afraid for my child and for myself I need to move beyond the fear so that I can put the best interests of my child first. My journey as a mother has begun.

So with that said, our baby has a penis – a boy (assuming he is gender normative). Bring it on!