One of the many surprises about pregnancy thus far is the realization of how little I care about this baby’s gender.  My whole life, I’ve wanted a little girl and would have no shame in saying so.  But the first time someone asked me, “What do you hope you’re having?” I really couldn’t come up with a genuine answer.  It suddenly didn’t matter.

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I’m happy that my husband feels the same way.  The fact that we don’t have a preference, however, does not mean that we don’t want to know as soon as possible.  I almost wrote, “does not mean that we want to keep it a surprise.”  Really, it’s always a surprise, isn’t it?  It’s just a matter of how long a couple decides to delay that surprise.  Whether it’s finding out around the 18 week mark of pregnancy, finding out at the baby’s birth, or, in what I believe to be a bizarre and ridiculous sexuality experiment, waiting to reveal your child’s gender until age 5.

I’ve written before about how I don’t understand the judgment that seems to go on between those that want to find out early versus those that want to wait until the baby’s birth (Admittedly, I do judge the couple who waited until age 5).  It’s a personal decision and frankly, I don’t really mind what other families decide to do.  But in case you care why we have decided to find out as soon as we are able, here’s a heads up about why it works for us.

I’m a control freak.  I generally do not like surprises and prefer to be as prepared as possible, especially when it comes to life-changing occurrences like raising a child.  I’ve heard some argue that there isn’t much to prepare for with regards to gender–a baby is a baby.  That might be true for them, but it isn’t for me.  The issues that will arise in parenting a girl are very different than the issues I want to be mindful of when parenting a boy, and vice versa.  I am a thoughtful, cautious person who needs plenty of time to digest information.  The extra five or so months for me to mentally, emotionally, and physically prepare for the person I’m about to guide through life will be helpful to my confidence and sanity.

We’re tired of referring to our baby as “It.”  Let’s face it: our gender is one of the most fundamental pieces in the puzzle of building our personal identities.  Maybe this makes us bad parents, but it’s difficult for us to strengthen our bond with this Life without being able to conceptualize its most basic little essence.  Until now, yes, I’ve been thrilled about becoming a mother, but I’ve also felt sick, tired, and out of touch with my body.  Matthew has felt even further removed from the process because of his obvious lack of physical involvement.  Taking the step to learn our baby’s gender will greatly help us connect with the momentous change that has been taking place for four months but, until now, hasn’t felt fully “real.”

Why not?  We just can’t find a reason not to learn everything we can about this baby, for better or worse.  The argument that “there are no surprises left in life,” doesn’t remotely fly with me.  After all, I’m pretty sure any parent will assure you that there are PLENTY of surprises along the way.  And the thought that I would need the surprise of the baby’s sex to get me through the pain of labor is silly to me.  I’m going through labor for the indescribable experience of raising a child for the rest of the my life; not for the one-second gratification of learning our baby’s sex.

Lastly, I simply disagree with the idea that gender doesn’t matter.  Of course, it doesn’t matter in that this child will be endlessly loved and adored regardless of whether or not it has a penis.  But finding out the baby’s gender implies that you’re going to start gender-izing, which today’s society seems to frown upon.  I don’t understand this.  When did gender become something that we have to pretend doesn’t affect our everyday lives?  When did pride and excitement about our inherent identity become a bad thing?

This isn’t about some selfish desire to know what color onesies to buy.  For us, this is about the simple joy of wanting to celebrate the life growing inside me as thoroughly as possible, as soon as possible.  Some might call it impatience.  I call it crazy, unstoppable, boundless enthusiasm.

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