I've gone to two traditional, women-only baby showers in the past month. I'll admit enjoyed myself‹we ate and played games and the moms-to-be roped in a good haul.
At one of them, someone mentioned with bemusement that she would soon attend a couple's shower. She didn't see the point. The rest of the women there agreed. Vigorously. "Life isn't fair," said one. "When men can get up on a table and push a baby out, they can come to showers."
I went home and thought about this for a long time.
On one hand, one of the things that our modern society has robbed us of is women-only spaces. Perhaps we're grateful the kitchen is no longer reserved for our Gentle Sex exclusively, but for crying out loud, even hair salons are now riddled with metrosexuals. It is true that in certain ways, especially those surrounding childbirth, women and men are essentially different. To pretend otherwise is just that: pretense. And as a woman, especially one living in a completely male household (including the pets!), I sometimes feel the need for girl talk, where we don't have to censor ourselves so as not to offend the menfolk, or to protect ourselves, or to just feel comfortable. Some of my best times have been women-only cookie parties and one very memorable morning when a bunch of us got together to prepare the flowers for a friend's wedding. If men need a male-only space as well, I say "go for it, doods." Chest-bump, sports-talk without eye-rolling female interruption, high-five or whatever, and have a great time. Just don't make it the boardroom, okay?
On the other hand, the more I think about it, the more I'd prefer that this women-only space I dream of not be at baby showers. Given that modern showers are about getting stuff for the baby, not some sort of initiation into labor and childbirth, and given that we as women want men to take equal responsibility for child rearing, it seems to me that men belong at baby showers.
I cannot count the number of times I have heard straight women complain that their well-meaning (or not so well-meaning) partners just don't seem to get that the responsibility for the kids is equally theirs, and that they wish their husband or boyfriends would take some initiative. If we want equality and equal responsibility in the arena of child rearing, then wouldn't it make sense to include men in all aspects of child rearing preparation, including showers? Men might not put up with our fun if silly games, but they do love gadgets, after all.
In my case, it would have been ridiculous not to include my husband Jan in preparing for our son Arie's arrival. Truth be told, it was Jan including me. As a former preschool teacher with several years in the infant room under his belt, Jan had definite opinions about which bottles babies seemed to take to the best, which toys they enjoyed the most and which odds and ends were most or least useful. When we went to register at You Must Drive to the Suburbs Baby World Warehouse From Hell (I think that was the name of the store), he moved confidently through the overwhelming inventory, scanning labels and muttering expertly to himself about silicone vs. latex nipples while I drifted along, swollen and vague, wondering if the place would let me use their bathroom.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if all men knew, as a matter of course, about bottles and diapers and nuk brands? It's certainly a place to start.
This leaves me with the problem of wanting a genuinely female space. And my friend had a point about childbirth being essentially a female experience. How about, instead of showers for women, we did have some sort of childbirth initiation gathering? What if, as birth moms, we all, as a matter of course, got together with expectant moms and had a little lunch (games if we really had to) and told each other exactly what childbirth was like for us‹what helped, what we found useless. We could even bring tokens of labor comfort and support for our friends and relations: small inspirational religious totems, ice packs, indispensable books on labor and childbirth, evening primrose oil, ginger compresses, nursing cream, the names of the best doulas.
But for the areas in which we expect full participation, such as child rearing, we need to make it fully participatory from the start. For moms and dads.
Haddayr Copley-Woods and her husband Jan are expecting their second child in September. If friends try to throw them another shower, heads are gonna roll.
