Summary

Steve, a loving and kind-hearted man, faced a heart-wrenching decision regarding his intersex newborn, ultimately consenting to a surgery that he later regretted, reflecting the broader societal misunderstandings and pressures surrounding gender.

Abstract

The narrative centers on Steve, a man known for his kindness and generosity, who eagerly anticipated the birth of his child. Upon learning that his baby was intersex, Steve was initially met with confusion and fear in the delivery room as medical staff whisked the baby away without explanation. The couple was then pressured by a doctor and Steve's mother-in-law to consent to a gender assignment surgery, believing it would spare the child a difficult life. Despite Steve's immediate regret and the realization that gender is not a binary concept, the decision was made, and the baby underwent surgery to be assigned female. The story highlights the complexity of gender, the existence of intersex individuals, and the societal expectations that often lead to irreversible decisions being made for them without their consent. It also touches on the historical and ongoing misconceptions about gender and the need for a more inclusive understanding of the gender spectrum.

Opinions

The author conveys that Steve's decision was influenced by societal norms and fear of his child's potential ostracization rather than malice or a lack of love.
There is a critical view of the medical community's approach to intersex births, suggesting a lack of sensitivity and information provided to parents.
The narrative emphasizes the idea that gender is a spectrum and that intersex individuals challenge the traditional binary understanding of gender.
The story reflects on the potential harm caused by non-consensual gender assignment surgeries on intersex infants.
The author suggests that the world's understanding of gender is evolving, and that inclusivity and acceptance are key to embr

“It Wasn’t A Boy Or Girl,” He Said. “And I Think I Made A Mistake”

A loving father’s torment on the birth of his child

Steve was one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. He laughed easy and listened like no one else existed. Never had much, grew up a poor farm kid, but he’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.

I say that so you understand the depth of the travesty. And it wasn’t even him they did it to. He was just collateral damage.

Everyone who knew him was happy when his girlfriend said yes. God, he bounced into work like Tom Cruise on Oprah that day.

She’d called him and said they need to talk. She sounded upset. When he got there, she said she’s pregnant. She was worried he’d bail. Instead, he pulled the ring out of his pocket.

He was the first guy I knew to take paternity leave. Said she’s going to need help with the baby. It wasn’t paid. He didn’t care. He was so excited.

That’s why I was surprised to find him in the staff room that day.

He looked shell shocked. Completely out of it. I sat down and waited. My turn to listen.

“It wasn’t a boy or girl” he said

He was in the delivery room. Holding his wife, doing the stuff they learned in prenatal class. Labor was long and awful. Finally, over the sound of his wife screaming and swearing , they heard the baby cry.

That’s when it got weird. A nurse scooped their baby into a blanket and disappeared. Just, poof. Gone. Whisked the baby away.

They were stunned first. Then they got scared. What was wrong with the baby?

The whole time he was talking, tears were streaming down his face. He’d blow his nose and keep talking. An avalanche of words and feelings.

Then a doctor came in. It isn’t a boy or girl, he told them. It’s both. The nurse brought the baby back. So they could both see.

That’s not the worst part, Steve said. He kept repeating that. It’s not the worst part, okay? Not the worst part. You got that? I nodded.

“God doesn’t make mistakes,” he said. “But I think I did.”

The doctor told him life will be too hard for the baby. Too hard. The child will be bullied. Picked on. Ostracized. They can fix it, the doctor said. Just a quick surgery. The baby won’t even remember.

His wife was crying. Said she doesn’t know what to do. She asked if her Mom can come in. She wanted her mom. The doctor said of course.

That’s when Steve got to see what his baby’s life might look like.

His mother-in-law scooped up their baby. Took off the diaper and shook her head as her eyes filled up with tears. Poor baby, she crooned. Poor, poor little baby. She cradled the baby to her chest as she talked.

The doctor isn’t wrong, honey. There’s going to be so many problems. Which bathroom are you going to take it into? Will you dress it like a boy or a girl? What about high school? Will it shower with girls, or boys? How are you going to deal with the bullying? It will be bullied, you know.

It, it, it. She kept saying it.

So they signed the forms.

After the surgery, they held their daughter, swaddled in a pink blanket. A perfect little girl. Tiny fingers and toes, bright eyes and a few stitches where a little penis had once been. They named her Emily.

He regretted it almost instantly.

God doesn’t make mistakes, he said. But I think I did.

What if they got it wrong?

He wished he hadn’t signed. He felt coerced. Pressured. Wished they’d given him more time to think it through. But now it was too late.

“What if they got it wrong?” he asked. “What if we messed up my child?” “What if she isn’t a girl in her heart?”

It was a burden he would carry for years and I had nothing. What do you say? What is there to say?

Not all babies are a boy or a girl

I had no idea, back then, how many babies don’t fit into our notion of “boy” or “girl.” Hell, there was no Google yet. Know how many?

As many as real redheads.

1.7% of all people are born with natural red hair. 1.7% of all people are born visibly intersex, says Amnesty International.

Neither a boy, nor a girl. Same number as redheads.

The world is not divided into xx and xy. We just think it is.

We humans are fallible. We’ve been wrong before, and we’ll be wrong again. We used to think birthmarks were a sign of the devil. We used to think the earth was flat. We used to think lead paint was safe.

And we used to think babies are a boy or a girl.

It’s not that tidy. Millions of people don’t fit into our binary notions of male or female bodies. Millions and millions of babies are born like Steve’s baby.

And you know what else?

Those are just the ones that are visibly intersex at birth.

Gender is a spectrum…

Lots more aren’t visible at birth. Like Emily Quinn. Emily looks like a girl. She has a girl body. Breasts and a vagina. But inside? She has male parts.

She’s never had a period. She’ll never have babies. And it’s not uncommon.

She found out she was intersex when she was 10. Know what the doctors said to her? They told her not to tell anyone. Shh. It’s a secret. Don’t tell.

“Doctors said not to tell anyone, poking and prodding at me like I was a science experiment. It was lonely, shameful, and I had nowhere to turn.” ~Emily Quinn

Well, she didn’t listen. She tells everyone. She loves to say she has balls, not ovaries. They’re just tucked up inside.

And she wants the world to know gender is a spectrum.

On one side is xx. On the other side is xy. But there’s lots in between those two ends of the spectrum. Girls with gonads and boys with ovaries.

Hell, there are women who grow beards. We used to put them in the circus as a sideshow. Come one, come all. See the bearded lady, 10 cents a ticket.

A couple of years ago, a man started to bleed from his penis. He was terrified. Thought he was dying of cancer. Turned out it was his period. He was also intersex. Know what the doctors said. Shh. Don’t tell.

Emily learned young, but some people don’t learn until their 20s, 30s or maybe never. It’s not like most people routinely get their chromosomes checked to “be sure” of their gender.

When I watched Emily’s TED talk I knew she’s not Steve’s Emily. She’s not the wee baby I held and kissed and bought teddy bears and teething biscuits for. But it hurtled me back in time. Made me remember Steve’s nightmare.

It wasn’t just his nightmare. We’re all part of the nightmare. And I wonder what it will take before we wake up.

“A gender-equal society would be one where the word ‘gender’ does not exist: where everyone can be themselves.” ~ Gloria Steinem