The Not-So-Big Reveal

When we were first contemplating parenthood and pregnancy, way back in the day when our house was filled with puppies and kittens and I was only 21 years old, Lena and I discussed the option of using sex-selected sperm. The concept was briefly referred to in one of our queer parenting books, and--at first--it sounded rather appealing. There was a part of each of us that was scared of having a boy. Having gone to a women's college and being queer with mostly queer friends, there just weren't a whole lot of boys in our life. Having a girl seemed like the easier way to go. Ultimately, our discussion did not lead to any further research. The process of spinning sperm to separate the X from the Y is only about 80% accurate, meaning that we could go through with it and still have a 20% chance of having a boy. And how would that feel, to know that we had gone out of our way to try and conceive a girl, but ended up with a boy anyway? Clearly, we would have to be totally fine with having a boy before we did anything, so as not to end up disappointed and somehow transfer those feelings to our child. And once we were totally fine with having a boy, there was no reason to use sex-selected sperm afterall.

We originally thought that we wouldn't find out the sex of our baby until he or she was born. After I was pregnant, and we began to suspect twins, we edited our previous plan to include a "unless we're having twins" stipulation. Having two babies at once seemed like enough of a surprise, and we wanted to be prepared, especially in case we were having twin boys. And, as is now perfectly clear, we were indeed expecting twin boys, and we were very glad to know it. Jasper revealed himself to us at our 16-week ultrasound, but Lukas kept his legs crossed and his tell-tale bits hidden until our 21-week level-2 ultrasound. Even then, the ultrasound technician was having a very hard time seeing anything, and said, "well, I'm thinking it's a girl, but I'm going to go and get the doctor and have him check to make sure." For five minutes, we thought we were having boy/girl twins. It was very exciting. And then the doctor came into the room and within 30 seconds declared, "it's a boy!" And I said, quickly, "well, we already know that one of them is a boy, are you sure you're not seeing that one?" And he moved the ultrasound wand around and repeated, "it's definitely a boy. Two boys." It took us about an hour to get really excited, but we did get there, and by the time Luke and Jaz were born, I was actually glad that they were both boys. That they'd be able to share their boyness with each other.

Jasper's penis at 21 weeks gestation

And once we had real, live babies in our arms, the fact that they were boy babies really didn't mean that much at all. We are, of course, well aware of the fact that sex and gender don't always correlate, and since we were attempting to raise our children in as ungendered a way as possible, I really don't think anything would have been any different had our babies each had a yoni instead of a penis.

When I was pregnant with Zeben, everyone wanted the baby to be a girl. I had had a vision before we conceived him that our third child would be a boy (and that his name would be "Zeben"), but I began to doubt my premonition due to every single person I came across saying, "oh, I think it's a girl this time!" Everyone thought it would be so perfect for our two sons to have a little sister. And, everyone wanted us to find out one way or the other as soon as possible. Although we no longer had the "twins" excuse for peeking at the sex of the baby via ultrasound, we still decided to do it. I was feeling all sorts of pressure for the baby to be a girl, and really felt that I would enjoy the pregnancy more if I knew. And Lena had thought that knowing during the first pregnancy had made it more real for her, and easier for her to bond with the babies.

When we went in for the ultrasound, the technician asked us if we had a preference one way or the other about the baby's sex. We were able to answer truthfully that no, we didn't, but we added that we did already have two boys at home. And just as I said that, I looked at the screen of the ultrasound machine and saw that our third baby was also, very obviously, a boy. We all laughed. And Lena and I did enjoy the pregnancy much more after that point, for whatever reason.

From then on, when we were asked if we knew the sex of the baby, and after divulging that the baby was, in fact, another boy, 9 out of 10 people would respond with a comment about baby clothing.

"Well, at least you don't have to buy any new clothes!"

I remember one time when this conversation took place with a stranger on the street, and after she had given this textbook clothing response, I looked down at my two 3-year-old sons, one dressed in pink pants with red heart-shaped patches on the knees, and the other dressed head-to-toe in shades of purple (Jasper's most favorite color for quite some time), and I thought, "that's true because if we had a girl, I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable dressing her in such girly outfits!" I found the clothing comments offensive, not only because they implied that a girl baby could not wear hand-me-down clothes from her older brothers, but also because they implied that the only good thing about having a third boy would be not having to buy girl clothes. Which was ridiculous for so many reasons (namely because dressing my children is at the very bottom of my "things to be think about as a mama" list), including the fact that if I had been expecting a girl, and if I had been the type of mother who wouldn't want to dress a baby girl in hand-me-down "boy" clothes, I probably would have also been the type of mother who would have been thrilled to finally have the opportunity to dress a baby in dresses and frills. And the fact that I wouldn't "need to buy any new clothes" would probably be depressing rather than relieving.

Who wouldn't dress a girl in these clothes?
(Jaz and Luke, 3.5 years old)

Because we already had two boys, two very-different-in-so-many-ways boys, we knew that the fact that our third child would also be our third son actually meant very little about what kind of person he would be. And the reality is that as a two-year-old, at least, he's really quite different from how his older brothers were in regards to his interests, etc. He doesn't particularly like trucks (no more than any other child), he doesn't climb everything in sight, we haven't had to tie the chairs to the dining room table like we did when Luke and Jaz were his age (lest they use them to gain access to everything they were otherwise too short to reach). We haven't had to baby-proof any cabinets or drawers at all! With Luke and Jaz, we had a lock on the fridge, the oven, the toilet, every door knob . . . and Zeben is just a very different kind of boy kid.

Zeben at four months,
wearing one of my favorite outfits

Tomorrow morning Lena will be 19 weeks pregnant, and we will go into the back-up midwives' office to take a peek via ultrasound at our fourth baby. The decision to have this ultrasound was probably the most debated of all the ultrasound decisions in our parenting career so far. At first we felt certain that we wouldn't have one at all. That we'd wait until the birth to find out if our baby had a yoni or a penis. But, as time went on, our resolve began to break down, until ultimately on New Year's Eve we confessed to each other that we both really wanted to find out. This time around, the majority of our friends urged us not to give into modern technology. They had all waited until the birth, and it was amazing and wonderful for them to get to greet their babies for the first time without knowing anything about what kind of sex organs they had. And the idea of going about this pregnancy and birth in the most natural way possible certainly does resonate with me. But knowing that I enjoyed the pregnancies more after finding out in the past, and knowing that finding out helped Lena, as the non-gestational parent, to more easily bond with the babies in-utero, and knowing that no matter what, we still won't know who the baby is until the birth (or years after the birth), ultimately convinced me that giving into my curiosity wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. And Lena felt the same way. So on January 2nd, we made the ultrasound appointment, and we have been pretty much just counting down the days since then.

"Hello, baby!"
(Luke, Jaz and the 19-week belly)

Tomorrow morning we may (or may not, I suppose, depending on the position of the baby) find out whether or not our baby has a yoni or a penis. And this information will hopefully allow both Lena and me (and perhaps, Luke, Jaz and Zeb) to even better enjoy the remainder of this pregnancy (not that we haven't been enjoying it already, of course). It will allow us to start referring to the baby by name rather than "he or she" or "the baby," and it will put an end to the debate about whether or not we should find out what type of sex organs our baby is equipped with. But, as we wait through these last 24 hours of possibility, we are also mindful about what the ultrasound tomorrow will not determine. It will not determine what types or colors of clothing we dress our baby in. It will not determine what types of toys our fourth child will one day choose to play with. It will not say anything about the personality of the youngest member of our family. And it will not necessarily mean anything about who our fourth son or first daughter grows up to be. Tomorrow will reveal just one of many surprises yet to come about the newest member of our family. And we are heading into the ultrasound with open minds and hearts full of love. We can't wait to see you, baby, whoever you are!