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L ike many other expectant parents of the 21st century who deliberately choose not to know the gender of their unborn baby, my wife and I cannot help but picture what it would be like to have both a boy and a girl. Not at the same time mind you – we picture having a baby boy and then we picture life with a baby girl. We know for a fact that we’re not having twins, so we won’t be rehashing that old and tired TV plotline of getting a big surprise in the delivery room.

Lately, on my side of the family, there’s been a run of boys, so it would be nice to have a girl added to the mix. She would no doubt become a princess. I’ve seen it before, the cute-as-a-button three-year-old girl having all the boys ooh and ahh and kowtow to her every whim. And that’s just the father and uncles – I can’t imagine the power she’ll wield over the slightly older cousins.

After months of flip-flopping my belief in what “flavour we’re having,” (as my friend Tracey puts it), it hit me one night in pre-natal class: it is as if our child is changing sexes in the womb. He’s a boy when we picture him as a boy and he’s a girl -- oops, I mean she’s a girl when we picture her as a girl. I mean, if we don’t know the sex of our baby until the moment it’s born, who’s to say he (or she) wasn’t a she (or he) for a few days here and there? Yes, I know that medically I am making no sense, but perhaps philosophically I’m onto something. How is the gender switching any different than that old conundrum: “If a tree falls in the woods, and nobody is around to hear it fall, does it make a sound?” Hey, maybe not knowing his own unborn child’s gender is how Erwin Schrödinger gave birth to his cat paradox experiment (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schr%C3%B6dinger%27s_cat).

Trying to figure out a baby’s gender while it’s still in the womb is a mug’s game, to be sure. I can’t believe I used to buy into the notion that it depends on how the woman is carrying. If her belly is up and perky, it’s a girl, but if it droops, it’s a boy, or do I have that backwards? If we all believe the logic in that formula then we’re putting a lot of stock into the positional power of a very pre-pubescent penis – Look how low she’s carrying—it must be because of her baby’s penis! No, I’m not buying that one anymore, especially after our pre-natal instructor, Jennifer said, “If you think about it, that theory will always end up being right 50% of the time.”

I think you would have a better chance of determining the sex of your baby by visiting three witches and having them read tea leaves in the bottom of your teacup. Heck, one witch will suffice, but the Witches Union might file a grievance. I think a more reliable determiner can be found in the mother’s dreams. Mind you, that’s just a hunch, I can’t prove that yet. Early on in her pregnancy, my wife Sylvia had a dream that she was having a boy, so since then we’ve been using the “he” pronoun most often. That is, until two weeks ago when she confessed to having a dream that she was having a girl. To be precise, she was having a newborn girl who could talk! Pretty whacky dream, but then, aren’t they all? I had a dream recently that a robber, complete with facemask and a black and white striped sweater, was creeping into our bedroom to steal our newborn. I don’t recall getting a good look at our baby’s gender, but I can tell you the robber eerily resembled the Hamburglar. So maybe the dreaming thing is not so reliable an indicator either.

W hat’s left – intuition? And just whose intuition? About a week or two after we started announcing our pregnancy, a colleague emphatically told Sylvia, “You’re having a girl.” Sylvia wasn’t even showing, so that was a good example of intuition at work. That colleague might be onto something, since her first child, now almost two, was a girl. Ah, but wait. About three weeks ago, another colleague of Sylvia’s told her with equal conviction, “You’re having a boy.” Then again, this colleague only needed one good gander at that old telltale sign, the mother’s belly, so it’s theory versus theory here.

What about something that would make Paulo Coelho proud – looking for and reading “the signs?” We got a pretty clear one last week, during another visit to see Naomi, our amazing mid-wife. Naomi had a student named Inge sit in during our appointment. Inge was a full-fledged midwife back in her homeland of the Netherlands, but she needs some Canadian experience and so is in the process of updating her midwifery credentials.

From our point of view, Inge was no student; one look and anyone could tell she was more than competent. She showed that during her examination of Sylvia’s belly. I had asked if Inge could tell how the baby was lying in the womb and so she used her fingers to shape out the baby for us. She said that the head was down and that’s its feet were curled up and lying way over to one side. Then she said, “Here’s the bum. Oooh it’s a nice soft round one.” Sylvia responded, “That comes from the father.” Proudly, the father concurs.

So what does our baby’s bum have to do with its gender? To my knowledge, nothing; it’s more to do with Inge. No, not Inge’s bum, but Inge herself. Just over a year ago Sylvia’s best friend died of a rare form of cancer. We’re planning to name our baby, if it’s a girl, after Sylvia’s friend. We wish to honour her dear friend, and secondly, the name is one of those unique names that go well with the surname, Stark – no easy feat. Sylvia’s friend had an Ecuadorian mother and a Dutch father, and so she was given a Dutch name. Inge is Dutch. Surely that’s a sign that we’re having a girl.

Now if it turns out we’re wrong, that we misread the signs and we end up having a boy, well we have a nice sounding Scottish (my heritage) name for him, and no, it won’t be some Scottish name meaning, “Nice Soft Round Bum.” After all, aren’t all babies’ bums like that?

What about the democratic method? This little prediction theorem depends on asking as many people as you can for predictions about your baby such as its gender, weight and date of birth, then count up how many are predicting boy and how many are predicting girl. I organized one of these pools for family and friends; it’s called “Sylvia’s Baby-O-Matic.” Now we’re up to 168 predictions. We even have a website—something my techno-wiz cousin, Pat set up for us. According to the “plurality,” we are having a girl. It’s practically unanimous: 86 are calling for a girl and only 82 are calling for a boy. I feel I should run right out and buy all things pink. As the saying goes, “the majority rules”— and 51% of the people just cannot be wrong.

My final gender prediction offering comes by way of an ancient Chinese chart that “is over 90% accurate when used properly,” or so it claims. It was originally discovered in some royal tomb in Beijing over 700 years ago, and is now conveniently located on the internet. The chart requires you to know both the mother’s age at the time of conception and the month in which the baby was conceived. Line these two key factors up in your crosshairs and voilà—your baby’s gender is given. According to the ancient Chinese, we’re having a boy. Then again, this website also includes one other important disclaimer: “Please remember that this chart is for entertainment purposes only.”

I am often asked, “Are you having a boy or a girl?” and I respond, “Yes.” I explain that we won’t know until the birthday. Many expectant parents who purposely do not know their baby’s gender are asked, “What are you hoping for?” My friend, Margaret went one step further recently when she added, “Don’t give me that 'I just hope it’s healthy' crap – deep down, what do your dreams tell you?” Well, all my life I have dreamt of having a son and a daughter, so I suppose it doesn’t matter which one comes first, but if I had to pick I would say I am hoping for a daughter. Sound the Fanfare and Blow ye Royal Trumpet! It’s time our kingdom had its princess! (However, this pauper would welcome a prince, too.)

Update: Andy & Sylvia are the proud parents, not of a birl, but of Lennox, definitely a boy.