We are the five percent

Mister and I, it’s more my issue than his, do not know and will not know the sex of the baby. We are, according to my doctor, in the narrow minority — 5 percent — of people who do not.

Why does this freak people out? I am surprised at how many people we know are surprised (and even annoyed!) at the prospect of, gasp, the unknown. I like the idea of the doctor holding up the baby and saying, “Ta-da, you have an xx or an xy!”

The strength of reactions forced me to come up with a cover story since the simple truth, I don’t want to know because I like surprises, isn’t good enough. There are so many things technology can control, manipulate, or aid these days (the Lentil wouldn’t be the Lentil without medical magic) that leaving a few things up in the air makes me feel like I’m not handing over all of me. I’m sure this sounds stupid to a few folks, and the analogy I’m about to make may only make sense to me, but the movie Forest Gump illustrates my point: technology does not make everything better. Forest Gump was a terrible movie. Insipid, dull. It could not have been made without technology to allow the movie splicing and various special effects.

How does knowing the sex of the baby help me other than choose colors for a child that establish gender patterns from birth? Even if I knew it was a boy, as we were discussing with the Footles yesterday morning while breakfasting at Brown Sugar Kitchen, I’m not painting the room dark blue and white with ships for trim. I’m more hung up on whether Lentil has all its parts than the pink/blue thing.

And, I agree with Jason Bateman’s character in Juno — yellow is not gender-neutral.

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