Gender Reveal Parties: Insights from a Trans Expectant Father

I’ve long judged the idea of gender reveal parties. Especially as they’ve gotten more popular, elaborate, and wildfire-inducing....(seriously, how awful is that?) 

Not to mention, I’m a specialist in the mental health of gender diverse people, so I’ve got a well-informed perspective on the problems inherent in projecting gender norms onto fetuses.

But now, as an expectant trans dad, I’ve developed a more complicated relationship to the idea of my baby’s gender, and how we navigate it during the perinatal period. I’d like to tell you about our family’s journey through this over the past 9 months, and share why I feel much more empathy and kinship with those who choose gender reveal parties than I ever thought I would.

Let’s get a few things out of the way first, so you know we’re not debating basic facts here:

1. Gender, sex, genitalia, and chromosomes are 4 distinct concepts, but they get used interchangeably in the prenatal period. When we talk about the “gender” of a fetus, we’re really talking about either the genitalia or chromosomes.  

2. Sex assigned at birth is only a guess based on external genitalia, and your kid may have a gender identity different from the word that comes after “It’s a–.” If that’s the case, accepting and understanding this is critical for this child’s long-term well-being. 

3. Gender reveal parties further entrench gender stereotypes and the gender binary into our culture, projecting futures onto children who are years away from being able to assert their true gender selves. 

4. I don't support gender reveal parties as a ritual for projecting identity expectations based on stereotypical ideas or crude biological proxies. I think it's harmful, and wouldn't do it myself. I would also have nuanced and clear conversations with close friends if they were thinking of having one, so they could understand why I would feel uncomfortable participating in it.

So - I am not a gender reveal apologist here.

But until my wife was pregnant, I couldn’t possibly imagine the emotional hills and valleys we’d experience, and the other purposes gender reveal might serve for expectant parents. 

Our Journey (the short version)

We did IVF, entailing months of testing, medical procedures, and fertility treatments. But on her first round, she had a failed egg retrieval. Now you may not know my wife, but suffice it to say that failure is neither common nor welcomed in her world. Devastated by feedback about “egg quality,” she swiftly replaced all plastic or nonstick cookware and food storage containers, along with other various changes to her diet, brands of toiletries, and supplements.

So we may not have gotten a baby from that first round, but we have some very nice stainless steel pots and pans now, thank you very much. 

We endeavored again on more rounds of treatment, and fast forward months later--a positive pregnancy test! The time since has been a varied mix of preparing, panicking, doubting, rejoicing, and most of all.....

wondering WHO the hell this little being is inside her.

It’s so much harder than I thought it would be to not know ANYTHING about them, and to build a one-sided relationship with a tiny stranger. We invested so much into their successful creation and healthy development, and can realistically predict exactly zero about who they are and will be. 

How We Navigated Gender

Perhaps unsurprisingly based on my identity and profession, we chose not to find out our kid’s “gender” (i.e. chromosomes or genitalia). We didn’t want this knowledge to awaken our internal biases about gender, and impact others’ choices on gifts, clothing, or expectations about their life. I didn’t want to spend this time swatting away people’s gender stereotypes like gnats–there’ll be enough of that once the baby is born. 

Then, at 37 weeks, we decided to find out the baby's chromosomal sex. 

Since all the clothes are bought, the nursery designed, and opportunities for bias are dwindling, I realized I didn’t want to learn that information simultaneously with my child’s entrance into the world. We've mitigated any harms it can cause to know earlier on, and my wife totally supported this and agreed.

I may not be able to change the fact that sex assignment will still be one of the first things that happens to my kid. But I can at least avoid it happening in my own mind.

But---finding out prior to the birth has given us the opportunity to share our incredulity at how deep gender biases go, even within us. Believe me, we still allow space for “unless told otherwise,” but it’s been fascinating to notice and share this observation with one another.

(And no, I'm not sharing it with you or anyone besides my wife). 

So--my feelings on gender reveals are more compassionate and understanding than they were before. For most people, I can see that a gender reveal party is just an opportunity to learn, share, and imagine things about this little stranger, for whom you otherwise have zero data.

There are valid reasons we'd want to ideate something that feels real during such an emotionally loaded but informationally opaque time.  

 Whether you subscribe to gender stereotypes, the idea of a gender binary, or like us, you eschew those concepts as socially constructed and oppressive, I understand that gender reveals can serve an important purpose for expectant parents like us.

We were surprised to see how much space the not-knowing was taking up in our minds, and how much we craved any kernel of information.

Ultimately, finding out a few weeks before the birth and keeping it to ourselves was the perfect choice for us. No bias in clothes or decor, but fewer decisions we’ll have to make in labor & delivery, and a moment of birth that can be about the pure awe and joy of this person's entrance into the world.  

We can just say "look who's here!" instead of "it's a _____!"

To Sum Up

I think it’s a wise decision not to project gendered expectations about our kids through a gender reveal party ritual.

I also have little empathy to spare for the elaborate contraptions that cause wildfires.

But when I see pictures from friends’ gender reveal parties, my reaction is no longer one of self-righteous indignation. 

 Instead, I feel a kinship. I see the part of them that I recognize in myself–simply wanting to know something about their tiny stranger, and share this joy with others. 

But as a trans dad-to-be and mental health specialist for trans folks, I just want to say to anyone who’s had or is considering a gender reveal party: 

• I see you.
• I get it. 
• I just ask this: When you announce “it’s a girl” or “it’s a boy,” add a “maybe.” Even if only in your mind. 

Choosing to make space for their gender autonomy might just save their lives one day.

By Jess Romeo                       

Jess Romeo (he/they) is a transmasculine psychiatric nurse practitioner and clinical social worker in the DC metro area. He owns a private practice and is the founder and CEO of my gender IQ, providing education and mentorship on gender diversity to mental health clinicians, group practices, and small businesses.