February 1st 2024.
As soon as I found out I was pregnant, my mind was flooded with thoughts and images of what our future might look like with another little one in our family. My partner and I were eagerly awaiting our ultrasound appointment to catch a glimpse of our little bundle of joy who is due to arrive later this year. We were joined by our 20-month-old son, who was just as excited as we were to meet his new sibling.
During the appointment, the practitioner asked us if we wanted to know the sex of our baby and without hesitation, we said yes. We had spent countless hours daydreaming about who this new addition might be. Would they resemble me or their father? Would they have the same hair as their big brother? Would they be a good sleeper? And of course, the question on everyone's mind - would they be a boy or a girl?
It's almost impossible not to create an image of your future when you're pregnant. For us, that meant picturing a little sister for our son. I suppose it felt like we would be "completing the set". I have always wanted a girl, but with uncertainty about having a third child, our second would have to be a girl. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, my intuition told me I was carrying a girl. I even had dreams about meeting her. I have always been in tune with my body and knew I was pregnant almost immediately both times. So, I had built up a false confidence in my ability to trust these feelings.
We were so convinced that we were having a girl that we had already picked out a name for her. I had even started to imagine introducing her to my friends and watching her bond with her big brother. My husband was also on board and couldn't wait to have a daughter. But as you may have guessed by now, I am not pregnant with a girl.
I want to make it clear that we are overjoyed to be having a second son. We are grateful that he is healthy and happily growing in my womb. We know how fortunate we are to have been able to conceive and carry this baby. However, when the sonographer told us he thought he saw a penis, my heart sank with disappointment. My partner and I didn't say anything for a few moments, until our son shouted "door!" - his current favorite word. His interruption broke the tension and we both laughed, agreeing to let it settle and talk about it later.
In the hours that followed, I cycled through a range of emotions. Guilt for feeling disappointed when I am carrying a healthy baby. Grief at the thought of never having a daughter. More guilt for not wanting another boy when my firstborn is so wonderful. Self-judgment for not being a more open-minded person who understands that gender is a construct. Panic about having to rethink our decision to have a third child. Resignation that it's a boy and we can't change that, but it doesn't change how much we love him. Excitement at the thought of seeing him bond with his big brother. And finally, pure joy at the thought of meeting him.
By the time our son was in bed, I felt at peace and grateful, even though the question of whether I would ever have a daughter still lingered in my mind. I feel guilty even admitting that we had expectations about the sex of our child because I never want my son to think that our disappointment had anything to do with him. It's about our expectations and perceptions of gender.
Gender disappointment is still a taboo topic when it comes to pregnancy and childbirth. And to some extent, I believe it's right that people don't freely express their feelings of disappointment about the sex of their child. I have never heard anyone admit to still wishing for a baby of the opposite sex once they have met their child. But also, because it can be seen as cruel and insensitive towards those who struggle to conceive or have a healthy baby.
When I experienced this feeling of disappointment, I searched online for articles to help me make sense of my emotions, but I found very little in mainstream publications. It wasn't until a friend sent me a thread on Reddit where women anonymously shared their experiences with "gender disappointment" that I realized I wasn't alone. A quick search on social media revealed thousands of people discussing their own experiences with it.
Listening to their explanations of their own emotions made me reflect on my own. What was driving this feeling of disappointment? Of course, there was the mismatch between our expectations and the loss of the imagined future. But there was also something deeper, something harder to admit. Most of my female friends have close relationships with their mothers in adulthood, but the same can't be said for my male friends. I was afraid that in my old age, my sons would be less likely to keep in touch and maintain an emotional bond with me. The saying "boys leave, girls stay" was ingrained in me. I feared that I would have to take on the emotional labor of keeping my family together.
Another aspect that added to my disappointment was the fear of raising boys in a society that still has toxic ideas about masculinity. I questioned whether I would be able to raise them in a way that challenges these harmful stereotypes. But as I delved deeper into these feelings, I realized that they were based on the assumption that sex and gender expression are intrinsically linked. That the rigid gender roles we have been breaking down over the past century are innate and solely dependent on nature.
Have you ever experienced "gender disappointment" during pregnancy? It's a question I have been asked since sharing my story. And although I have made peace with our news, I know that for some, it may be a longer road. And for those people to be able to examine their own negative feelings and make peace with them, we need to be able to openly discuss "gender disappointment" without fear of being judged for not loving our unborn child.
Knowing that we are having another boy is both exciting and challenging for me as a feminist mother. I am determined to raise empathetic and kind boys who are in touch with their emotions and care for others. As they say, "be the change you want to see in the world". And for us, that means raising boys who defy societal expectations and are not afraid to show their vulnerability.
Do you have a story you'd like to share? I'd love to hear from you. Share your thoughts in the comments below.
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