Baby A is coming, and March keeps slowly ticking closer and I keep getting asked the same question.
What is she going to call you?
And the answer is. . .
I’m not entirely sure yet.
It’s complicated. The terms used for parents are so gendered and I don’t fit quite right in either category.
I am not Mom. Not in the way our society defines what being a mom means. Yes, I definitely exude many motherly qualities.
I am not Dad. Not in the way our society defines what being a dad means. Yes, I definitely exude many fatherly qualities.
I am something in-between.
I can’t wait to dress her up in adorable clothes and ooh and ahh over all the cute little baby things. (I may or may not have shocked the wife earlier this week by squealing about how cute a baby outfit we were given is.) I can’t wait to be her mom.
I can’t wait to teach her how to throw a softball, or a football, or encourage her in whatever she is passionate about. I can’t wait to be her dad.
I am entering new territory as a parent. I am entering even newer territory as a genderqueer parent.
How will Baby A talk to her peers about me when she goes to school? What words will she use for me to explain my existence to a society which doesn’t always see me in the way I see myself.
How do I authentically parent?
I’m not entirely sure what this will look like, but I know it will be beautiful.
I know my daughter will be fiercely and passionately loved. I know I will encourage her to try things that scare her. I know that she will be accepted for who she is, no matter who she ends up being.
And so, whether she calls me Mom, Dad, Mae Mae, or whatever else she might call me; it doesn’t really matter in the end.
She will be loved by her mom and by me.
What do YOU think baby A should call me?