Ladies and Gentlemen, Place Your Bets

Alright folks, the countdown is on. This Wednesday, just three short days away, is The Ultrasound.

I'm having a lot of guilt about the fact that I cannot wait to find out the sex of the baby. Good gender theorist that I attempt to be, it seems pretty clear that I shouldn't care what genitalia this week's ultrasound reveals. Finding out ahead of time, and indeed, obsessing about it as I've been doing, makes me feel like I'm beginning the process of gendering the kid in utero. After all, why does it matter if Baby Fang has a penis or a vag? Aren't I going to treat him/her/hir the same regardless?

I like to think that I will. And I certainly don't presume to think that whatever the scan reveals will actually tell me anything about my kid's gender identity. (Truth be told, I hope that I get a really butch girl, or a super femmy boy.) I justify my obsession with the sex question by telling myself that finding out ahead of time will give me a chance to think through what it would mean for me to raise a boy, or a girl. But of course, there's no reason why I couldn't think those things through without knowing what's between the kid's legs.

So, I'm trying to make peace with my curiosity, and to use this time to examine my own prejudices and fears. And mostly, I'm just excited to know a little bit more about the person who will soon be joining me. But deep down, I still feel the voyeuristic guilt of the spectator who seeks the thrill of meaningless gossip, and I worry that I'm on my way to unhealthily gendering my kid before it's even born.

In spite of all this, I have no doubt that I'll post the news just as soon as I know. So in the meantime folks, place those bets...