"How could she do this to me?"

I don't know if you've ever seen "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", but there's a part shortly after the main character has told her father she's gotten engaged to a non-Greek where he is brooding in his study and his wife comes and says, "Enough! ENOUGH!.... It's done! They fell in love!" and he replies, "How could she do this to me?"

Sometimes, when I tell people that we aren't finding out the gender of the baby, all I can think about is the reaction of that Greek father in the movie. And then I laugh. I never dreamed that people would take this so personally or seriously. It's as though I have wounded them deeply and they just gaze at me with grieved eyes. How? How could I do this to them? Today, a coworker asked me what gender the baby is and when I said I don't know, he recoiled in disgust and exclaimed, "I hate that! How are you supposed to prepare?!" I gently reminded him that none of our parents knew what genders we were and somehow, some way, they managed (not to mention the rest of human history, but that was before themed nurseries so it's neither here nor there). I've also grieved my poor parents, several friends and who knows who else is secretly holding back their dismay. I'm sorry everyone, for this deep pain I've caused you.

No. That's a lie. I'm not sorry. Even though I'm really curious about who LB is, my plan has worked just as I'd hoped. We've got a nice cache of gender neutral baby duds and accessories so whatever the next little Blum is, we will be ready for them. Plus, I know once the baby gets here, people will forget their despair and then they can go gender crazy.