We’ve had mixed reactions to our wishes to not know the baby’s sex. Some people think it’s great, others are completely baffled. The controversy reigns on in our very own household. Bill wants to know the baby’s sex. I do not.
For those of you more inclined to Bill’s point of view, here are a few reasons for not wanting to know.
- Revisiting the Days of Yore: This has been an extremely high-tech conception and pregnancy. Heck, we’ve been seeing pictures of the baby since it was only 50 cells big and lived in a Petri dish. Don’t get me wrong. I’m beyond grateful for every bit of technology involved. For me, though, it’s kind of nice to have a bit of “old fashioned-ness”, too.
- Nursery, Clothing, etc: Knowing the baby’s sex would make no difference in our nursery choices. The traditional blue and pink themes? Not for me. Honestly, I’m not fond of blue. I know… I know … everyone likes blue, right? Well not me. It’s one of my least favorite colors. Hardly surprising from someone who’s not fond of cola, meat, or chocolate either. And, although I like pink just fine, neither of us would likely choose a pink nursery theme, either. Avoiding these colors in the nursery is easy. Clothing is more difficult, but I’m giving it my best shot. The neutral color clothes are so much cuter anyway.
- Names: Sure, it would be easier to focus on just boy or girl names, but truthfully I’ll be surprised if we can agree on even one name by the time the baby arrives. It took weeks of discussion, negotiation, and brow-beating to name Boo. I don’t imagine naming the baby will be any easier. Oh, and for the record, Priapus is definite NOT on the list.
- Suprise! I just want the excitement of the surprise.
On the other side of the coin Bill feels that knowing would help him imagine the baby better – help him feel more bonded. I can’t blame him for wanting this. I’ve got the baby with me 24/7. I get to feel every kick, flip and punch. Bill is able to enjoy only occasional movements. I get his desire to know more about the baby than the a few occasional kicks.
This is why, after a lifetime of certainty that I would never want to know my baby’s sex prior to birth – we have, in fact, found out. I wanted Bill to have the bonding experience he wished for.
There it is. We know. Now it comes down to the question of letting others in on the secret. In typical W*** style, we differ on this. Bill, of course, wants to tell everyone. I would like to make it a surprise. So, we’re leaving it up to you. To Know or not to Know. That is the question. Let us know....
Tomorrow I'll tell the story of how I started the day completely mobile and ended it in bed, foot in an air cast, with crutches sitting next to me.
1 comment:
So, Jen, what happened with your foot?
I've given a couple of days thought to your question about knowing the baby's sex and here's what I've decided. At first, I wanted to know the baby's sex, I guess, for the same reason Bill did - I could begin imagining a little Jen or a little Bill. But after reading your reasons for not knowing, I've come around to your position. I had not considered the aspect of high-tech versus old-fashioned and I've also realized it's not fair for me to think of your child as a miniature of either one of you. So, I don't want to know. Don't tell me, Janet!
Sue
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