But no matter how progressive I may hope to be, I understand the desire to know the gender of our fetus it feels like the first real opportunity to glimpse who they might be. I like the idea of forcing as few gender stereotypes on my child as possible. Who will this person be? What kind of person will we become parents to? How will they change our lives and who we are? This is a wondrous and terrifying concept, one that renders us both helpless and humbled. There is a truth to our line, though, one that hints at possibilities that are much more complex than whatever genitalia our child might be born with: the truth that we ultimately have no idea who-rather than what-is growing inside my belly. WHEN MY HUSBAND AND I tell friends that I’m pregnant, their first question after “Congratulations” is almost always “Do you know what you want?” We like to respond that we won’t know the gender until our child is 18 and that they’ll let us know then.
