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The Olden Days of Gender Reveal
So, now there is this enormous fire surging across a part of Southern California because someone’s gender reveal party included a smoke bomb that exploded into blue or pink smoke and then set fire to the surrounding chaparral. In the first place, if you’ve ever lived in SoCal you should know never to use anything flammable out there in the brush. It’s just a fire waiting to happen. I haven’t lived in the area in 25 years, but we called it home from 1974 to 1996 (with a couple of years in the middle up in western Idaho). The native plants catch on fire. Do not do things that might cause one of those fires. Sigh…
I also wonder when the “Gender Reveal” became a “thing?” We have five children, born between 1976 and 1984–all of my prenatal care was at the Navy Hospital in San Diego, because this was during my husband’s active duty years. (Yes, yes, it was considered somewhat of a bizarre thing that we would go on reproducing after we had the first two: boy, then girl. But actually, we intended to have six. My body just let me know that five would be plenty.)
The first child was totally routine: went to the hospital, had the baby, came home a few days later. What wasn’t routine was that when the doctor announced, “It’s a boy!” my husband’s response was “I know!” You see, he had his own special Gender Reveal ability. During each of our pregnancies, he would just state suddenly, one day, that he knew what the gender of each of the babies was that I was carrying. And, by golly, he was right every time! The only time that he wasn’t certain, I was the one who had the “revelation” — one night, about seven months into the gestation, I looked at our two sons playing with toy cars on the living room floor, and for a brief second, I saw three little boys. I turned to my husband, and said, “This is a boy! I just saw him!” And, sure enough, our third boy, fifth child, was born two months later.
I don’t know why we could do this. During my third pregnancy, I was introduced to the technology that today is a routine part of prenatal care. We had traveled up to Wyoming for Thanksgiving with our two little ones (the baby being only eight months old) and while we were there, I realized how much my younger brother and sisters (ages 14, 16, and 18) could use my help with the milking and chores. At this time, my father had been diagnosed with the leukemia that would end his life in six more years. So, my husband and I made a plan that I would stay on the farm with our littles until Spring because one of my other sisters wanted to move from her home in another state and live near my parents and help them out. Also, by summer, my other younger brother, aged 21, would be back home from his missionary service, and he really wanted to be a farmer.
So, there I was again … milking, feeding cattle, cleaning barns. It was fun to spend time with my parents, and my littles loved all the attention they got from their aunts and uncle, and especially Grandma and Grandpa. My husband flew up from California to spend a week with us at Christmas, and bring me some more clothes. We had a lovely visit and “celebrated” our reunion after not seeing each other for a month. Then, I went down to see him for his birthday in January. At which time, I went to the Navy hospital OB-GYN clinic to have a little test taken.
See, I was still nursing the baby. But, I was also having symptoms that were quite familiar from two other times when that Little Test was positive. This was so long ago that there were no Home Tests. Sure enough, when the doctor doing my exam asked when I’d last had a menstrual period, the date was two calendar years before. Yup. I was nursing; the baby was only nine months old! Well–there goes that Natural Birth Control theory right down the drain. Three children in three years. That’s what we were looking at. Which was a shock, but perfectly okay! We were going to have number three anyway–the child just chose when, instead of us choosing.
When I returned to Southern California in April and went in for a check-up, the very nice OB-GYN was taken aback by my dates. He then suggested that there was a brand new technology that he could use to determine the age of the baby growing within me. He said it was something like submarines used–a version of sonar, where they could get a view of the child to show on a screen and it would help determine how many weeks/months the pregnancy had progressed.
At the time, my husband’s duty station was the submarine base in San Diego. He maintained all the electronic, computer, and hydraulic systems on a very sophisticated trainer that was used to teach sub crews. I knew all about submarines and sonar and electronics, etc. My first response to the OB-GYN was “I don’t want you to shoot sonar waves at my baby!” But, it was a new thing, and the doctor really, really wanted to try it out. Plus, the usual data–my last period–was of no use. However, I was adamant: No sonar! And, come on…I knew when conception occurred: two days after Christmas, my old bedroom, 10:30 p.m. Duh. It was the only time it could possibly have happened.
I won. He didn’t get to “shoot sonar waves” at my baby. And Mr. CowGirl announced a couple of months before she was born, that she would be a girl, and of course, he was right again.
This daughter grew up to be a registered nurse and worked in Labor and Delivery in a big hospital for a few years. She always had The Very Best Story Ever about finding out the gender of a child before birth. No “sonar waves” for this mom!
Published in Technology
No idea, although I suspect ultrasound did have something to do with it. I think it’s all rather silly, myself.
My daughter thinks the gender reveal parties are silly and just another excuse for a party. The cake bakers I know love them.
There’s a new service called “sneak peak” where you send a sample (spit? Blood?) to a company and they email you boy or girl.
My daughter did her gender reveal by letting us all know over Sunday dinner that she’s having her third girl, Betty Anne. It has been fun her two daughters to already have a name for the baby they’re looking forward to.
BTW the home pregnancy tests must be amazing these days. My daughter felt a little off, took a home test and found out she was pregnant. Did some quick math in her head and checked her calendar and thought she was about 8 weeks pregnant (We Catholics can’t count worth a damn) When she went to the doc later she found out she had only been 10 days pregnant when she took the test.
She narrowed it down to an exact night I baby sat, so I’m taking all credit.
I have a rosary group that zooms every Wednesday am and there are four of us expecting grandchildren. My daughter has made all the babies onesies printed with “proof that quarantine wasn’t always boring”
Elizabeth Anne would be far better. It would give her lots of options in the future. There are not a lot of options for her identity from Betty. She might be Bet or Bets or Betty. Elizabeth has all of those and a bunch more. I know an awful lot of people who don’t go by their childhood diminutives, either going with their formal name or choosing a different diminutive. I know a Margaret who is now “Maggie,” but was “Meg” as a child. I knew a guy who had grown up “Jack” and transitioned to his formal name of John. I’ve known “Jimmy” who became “Jake,” which he could do with the formal name of James.
I have also known a few guys who for one reason or another didn’t like their first name, so went by their middle names. One guy was Jerald, but everyone called him “Jerry,” which he thought sounded like a girl’s name and hated, so he went by his middle name.
The short version of this is, the more options, the better. I don’t know if it’s a discussion where you could successfully pass on the idea with your daughter and son-in-law, but I highly recommend trying.
I love this.
🤣
Funny story. My daughter’s name is Elisabeth Ann (she goes by elle, pronounced L.E. Or just L)
My name (and my mother’s) is Anne (my mother was actually Annie but changed it to Anne when she came to the States. She named me Anne – and of course everyone has called me Annie since I was a teenager)
My mother was the youngest of 11, with the oldest being Elizabeth. My mother in law was the youngest of 9, with the oldest being Elizabeth. So that’s where we got Elisabeth for my daughter (though I preferred the other spelling) My husband never liked the name, called her elle on day 2 and it’s been elle for 30 years.
My mother in law, even though she had an older sister Elizabeth, was named Betty Ann. Which is who Betty Anne is named for (adding the E to Ann in deference to me and my mom)
So Betty Anne it is and will be. My husband’s side of the family are all thrilled.
My mother in law was furious when I named my youngest Samuel. Even refused to call him by name til he was five. I vowed I would never disagree with any name anyone ever chose.
So Emma Rose and Jean Louise (who at 3-1/2 no longer likes her nickname Scout) will have a younger sister Betty Anne
I wasn’t suggesting going that far. Just saying that more options for the future are generally better. If she’s named for a grandmother, it’s probably a bit late to broach the subject with the baby’s great-grandparents. 😉
I was going to comment on obstetric ultrasound, about which I have written articles and book chapters, but this discussion of naming babies is more interesting. Arahant, I would have smacked you for criticizing Annefy’s daughter, but I guess Annefy has better manners than I.
Ooh! Thank you, sir! May I have another? I wasn’t really criticizing so much as suggesting there might be better alternatives the child will appreciate later in life. If they want to name a kid Betty or Moomoo or Moon-Unit, that’s their prerogative. And Betty may love her name and never want to change it. On the other hand, once any child comes of age, he or she can legally go and get a name change. I knew a fellow who was in the same band I was who changed his name to “Baroque N Renaissance.” He had a nice enough name before that, but it was his choice.
When my brother got married for the second time, they were hoping to have children. When he told me that if they had a son, they would name him “Jake,” I suggested he might want to consider the longer form.
“But we don’t like Jacob,” he said.
“How about James?” I asked. “It’s the same name, and Jake can be a diminutive for James. And if he decides he doesn’t want to be Jake in twenty or thirty years, he can be James or Jim or Jimbo or Jimmy or Jamie or Jams or a dozen other things. It’s much less limiting. Besides, which, two of our great-great-grandfathers were named James. Dad’s favorite uncle was James. And that would really make Dad happy.”
He nodded, “That makes sense.”
So, I’m not telling anyone they have to do anything, just suggesting things based on the people I know and their experiences. It’s far better to have a name that can give one a lot of choices.
I’m your kids’ age and the gender reveal thing didn’t exist for my kids. It was picking up when I was pregnant with my 3rd, but It was definitely not a thing when my oldest was gestating.
From what I can tell, it is my generation’s thing. I just reproduced way before they did. They are the group putting off marriage and child bearing into their 30s, after having spent their 20s partying over everything. And it is just another excuse to party, but its a culture that has grown up in perpetual and unfettered teenage years in their 20s. All the privileges and finances of adults, nearly all the responsibilities of teenagers.
My sister is this way, so I have learned to have some positive view of it. Ultimately, to this group, all good things are worth celebrating and boy do they know how to celebrate and throw a good party. My sister’s baby shower was more like a wedding reception. But she’s a police officer and her group is police. To her, giving her friends and community any positive reason to gather is worth it. And how can you argue with that in a world so hostile to police officers?
Honestly, I kinda wish I had the opportunity. Because I agree – we should take any opportunity to celebrate. Take every opportunity to rejoice, make merry, and be festive.
Edit – I made a mistake in this. my kids predate gender reveal parties =p
And here I thought gender was fluid, and purely a social construct.
Interesting times.
No, no. Please try to keep up. I have been advised that “gender reveal” parties are just another manifestation of cis-privilege and the oppression of others. No way we should be partying and celebrating an occasion which imposes an identity on a child before he or she has the opportunity to choose for zirself. (If Hallmark, or whichever commercial party-pushing entity jumped on the bandwagon with a view to selling product (pink and blue smoke bombs to set fire to California?) to support them thought that using the word “gender” instead of “sex” was going to buy them some grace, they were fair and far off).
Proof positive they’re a tool of far right nutjobs who think we need more ACBs and fewer RBGs on the Supreme Court: When was the last time you heard someone was having a gender reveal party to announce that the baby was genderqueer, or two-spirit?
I’m old enough that a “gender reveal” party was in the hospital room and the doctor said “It’s a boy!!”
I think we make a bigger deal out of kids because they are a rarer thing. We have fewer of them so one birth is an big deal. I don’t mean to say that kids aren’t wonderful though.
You’re hilarious! I’ve spent my entire life trying to get people just to call me the real name my parents gave me! It is two words–both of them–all the time–don’t just say the first one–really, my mom wrote both names on the “first name’ line and left the “middle name” line empty. I don’t want choices…I just want my whole name.
I’d love to hear what you have to say about obstetric ultrasound, now that I’m not an obstetric patient any more.
I can tell you that prenatal ultrasound has resulted in better infant and maternal health since it’s become routine.
I think it’s also become a factor in why younger people are less pro abortion. They’ve all grown up seeing pictures of their siblings in utero or actually seeing the live US images. Those leave no doubt that it’s a living person.
And all I wanted was for people to call me by my one-syllable first name. But everyone insisted on trying to be more familiar and call me by a diminutive. For years, I tried going by my initials, so they wouldn’t try to get familiar. But did it work? No, they got the initials wrong. So, I finally decided I would make them work for it and started going by a two-syllable diminutive. You want to get chummy with me, you’re going to have to work for it.
The first time I heard the phrase “gender reveal party” was from our 28yo middle daughter referring to an event one of her girlfriends was hosting. It took me a few minutes to figure out that she was talking about some form of a baby shower rather than some personal lifestyle coming-out soiree…
Well, I am very glad its the former and not the latter, lol.
Way back when Mrs. Tabby was pregnant with our children (1985 and 1988), we were not interested in knowing the sex of the baby. Ultrasound of the day was becoming routine, but was sufficiently fuzzy that us amateurs couldn’t really tell, and at our request the professionals kept the information from us.
When our daughter was pregnant (2017 and 2019) she and our son-in-law did not want to know until birth either. That held for the first child, but on one examination, the second child presented herself to the imaging device in such a way that there was no doubt she was a girl. Neither our daughter nor any of their friends who were (and still are) all having babies at the same time had any interest in the “gender reveal” party thing.
I agree with @kozak that widespread high definition ultrasound seems to have had an impact on helping people understand that really is a baby in there and not just a clump of cells.
When I go to an ultrasound with my daughter I am dazzled by the difference in resolution between now and the late 80s/90s.
We had the opportunity to find out the sex of child #4 and took advantage of it. JY said he had had enough surprises
I know how critically helpful prenatal ultrasound is for better infant and maternal outcomes. Our oldest daughter would not have lived through her pregnancies without this important tool. She has an unusual, inherited, anomaly in her uterus and without this important technology, she and the first baby would simply have died. I’m very grateful for for modern times! It’s just ironic that her mom was such an old-fashioned weirdo.
When my wife was late in her pregnancy with our 2nd, she had an appointment where her stomach measured smaller than the doctor thought it should be. They wanted her to have an immediate ultrasound, but they didn’t have the equipment at that office. Of course my wife then had to drive herself a half hour or so in a near panic to get to a hospital, because the doctor mentioned that she may have lost all her amniotic fluid.
During the ultrasound, it became apparent that the baby was fine but was lying sideways across her body. The baby was also facing out. As my wife watched the screen, she exclaimed “it’s a boy!” The technician replied “yes” but then immediately backed off and said that she’s not allowed to interpret the results – only a doctor is allowed to do that. My wife replied “I don’t need a doctor to tell me that’s a boy!”
Said no one, ever …
My wife and I, though young enough to have prenatal ultrasound for our three, asked the obgyn to avoid telling us, even if she noticed. Which she did, each time, with a “are you sure you don’t want to know?”
We enjoyed the surprises. And keeping the rest of the family in suspense. (: