What are you having?

Thoughts on gender and parenthood, plus a birthday wish

What are you having?

People love to ask questions of a pregnant person.

When are you due?
How are you feeling?
Is this your first?

And then, there’s this question, which always gets me:

What are you having: boy or girl??

Sometimes, I think people just want to confirm their guesses. I’ve had several people tell me they’re confident I’m having a boy because of the shape of my belly: “I can tell it’s a boy because you’re carrying so low!” one stranger said. “I’m guessing boy because boys make your belly much bigger and rounder, like yours; a girl would be smaller,” said another. Then there was the man I passed on the street who stopped me to congratulate me on my pregnancy, then guessed that I was having a girl because my belly was “so small.” I suppose size is relative.

Other times, I think people are just making conversation and trying to connect, somehow. It’s like when you go to a coffee shop and ask the barista, “How are you?” We expect “Good!” or “Fine, thanks!” and then we move on. We don’t think about the fact that we’re actually asking a very loaded question - a question that doesn't have just two possible answers, and that often comes with a lot of feelings and baggage and social conditioning. 

Whenever someone asks “what I’m having,” especially someone I don’t know, there is a big part of me that wants to ask my own followup questions in return:

How will knowing my baby’s sexual organs affect how you treat them?
What sort of assumptions will you make, based on my answer?
What advice will you give me?
If you were meeting my child on the outside, not in my belly, would your first question to them be, ‘Are you a boy or a girl’?”

Had it been totally up to me, I would have asked the doctors not to tell me what the blood tests showed. Knowing whether this little being has XY or XX chromosomes would not have affected what I did during pregnancy, what color I painted their room, or what kind of clothes I bought (not that I’m buying clothes anyway; thanks, friends with babies who have outgrown their infant wardrobe!). But my husband wanted to know, and he hates keeping secrets (bless his heart), so I agreed to let them tell us.

To be fair, we’ve told a few people what the doctors told us, based on the blood test. But the people we’ve told are people I trust not to get totally weird and prescriptive about gender roles. They won’t be buying us a bunch of pink or blue things, or shirts that say Daddy’s girl or Ducks, trucks, and big ol’ bucks: That’s what boys are made of! (which is an actual shirt I came across when I Googled “shirts for baby boys”). All of them are people who I am confident will love and embrace our kid fully, whatever gender(s) they develop throughout their life.

But even then, there came a point when I just got sick of answering, and I started saying, “Top secret!” regardless of who asked.

Years before I got pregnant, and years before I met Alex, I thought a lot about how I would pass on my ideas of gender to my kid. Should I choose an androgynous or “gender-neutral” name? Should I refrain from assigning “he” or “she” to my kid until they are old enough to tell me what they want? How would I talk about gender in general? How would my own gender expression change?

I have two friends who are raising their babies simply as “kids” not “boys” or “girls.” They use “they” when they refer to them, and do not answer questions about what sexual organs their babies have (which, if you think of it like that, seems entirely reasonable!). One of these friends even told me that they secretly delight in the fact that one of their neighbors has decided their kid is a boy and refers to them as “him,” while another neighbor is completely convinced the kid is a girl and refers to them as “she.” “It’s just wild, the assumptions people make when they don’t know something,” this friend told me.

Part of me still loves this idea. I love the idea that, by not labeling our kid’s identity as “boy” or “girl,” people might have fewer expectations about how they should act, how their personality will develop, what subjects they’ll be interested in, how much trouble they’ll get in, etc. I love the idea of not imposing society’s ideas of gender onto our kid - or at least, delaying the inevitable for as long as we can (because let’s be honest: at some point they won’t be able to avoid these messages).

But the truth is, however we do it, we’re making a choice for them. Referring to our baby as “they” doesn’t mean no one will assume things about them, as my friend clearly noted. It might reduce some kinds of assumptions, but it might also elicit some others. Also, the idea that we should choose a “gender-neutral” name is full of assumptions: Who is to say that a boy can’t be named Penelope, or that a girl can’t be called John? Whatever name we choose, they might end up hating and changing it, regardless of the gender they develop. To me, what feels most important is that our kid grows up knowing that they can be who they want to be, and we will love them unconditionally; that if they tell us one day that we were wrong when we called them “she” or “he” or “they,” we will be able to accept that, apologize genuinely, and move forward.

Years ago, I read an article about how adults talk to children. It said that, in general, adults tend to compliment girls on their clothing and how “cute” they look, whereas they tend to ask boys what sports they like. The article suggested several alternative things to say or ask when meeting a kid - things that did not reinforce so many stereotypes. I don’t remember the whole list, but it has made me more aware of the things that come out of my mouth, especially when I’m talking to kids:

I try not to focus conversation on things like clothes or appearance.
I try not to ask them to rank things as “favorite,” or “least favorite.”
I try to inquire about what they’re learning, or what they are excited to learn.
I try to respect silence if they’re shy, or if they simply don’t want to talk to me.
I try to remember that I won’t do it perfectly, that I might say something and then think, “Oops! I shouldn’t have say that.”
I try to remember that making a mistake and apologizing is just as important when communicating with children as it is with adults.

As my counselor has reminded me so many times, it’s not the avoidance of rupture that leads to strong relationships; it’s the quality of the repair that follows.

So to all the dear humans who have asked me “what we’re having”: Great news! We’re having a kid!! Once they’re born, we’ll call them by certain pronouns, but I am hopeful that these pronouns will not feel rigid or limiting. I am hopeful that our loved ones will treat our kid with love and openness, however they express, and do their best not to assume they know things about our kid, based on their gender alone. And I am hopeful that society will continue to expand its ideas of gender, and to not cling so hard to what was passed down to us.

Tomorrow, I start my parental leave. My last public class (until February) was yesterday, and my last day of writing on a (mostly regular) schedule is today. I am pausing my online subscription service until next year, at which point it will likely take on a different form. Also, incidentally, today is my birthday! A time of year when I always get a little more reflective and contemplative, and a little more grateful. What a time to be alive!

There is so much change ahead, and most of it will be outside my control. I am trying to remember not to force anything, but simply to create the space for change to unfold; to be present with and responsive to what is, rather than cling to ideas of how things should be. I am extremely thankful that I am able to take time away from work, that we have the financial stability to not need to rush back in, and that we have such a strong network of generous family and friends. What a gift.

I intend to keep writing throughout my leave - not to prove my productivity, but because it truly helps me feel grounded and connected. So you’ll likely hear from me here and there throughout the next few months (just maybe not 3 to 4 times a month, like it’s been). I also have a workshop series planned for April, called Yoga for Everyday Life, so if you’re interested in some non-asana based yoga, you can get excited about that one! :) And of course, I’m already dreaming of my next international retreat, likely to occur in March 2026… (Can’t stop this gal from dreaming!)

But for now, here we are, on this October 11: a day when I turn 39, and just one month before my child’s due date. I don’t know what to say except: Holy shit. Wow. Here we are. This is one amazing and beautiful and poignant and joyful and wild, wild life. Thank you.

So much love,
Abby

P.S. If you’re looking for the perfect birthday or baby shower gift, consider donating to Planned Parenthood or La Leche League. I am truly overwhelmed (in the best way) by the amount of support I have already received from friends and family: piles of hand-me-down baby clothes and supplies, both grandmothers coming to help out this fall/ winter, help from my sister and BIL with various baby-related house projects, gift cards, offers to participate in meal trains, and so much more… So for now, my birthday/ baby wish is for other folks to get the medical and reproductive care they need so that they, too, may feel as supported as I do.