As I recall, here's what the traditional "how babies are made" books look like: Man meets woman, they fall in love, they get married, and they finally have sexy-naked-time under the covers where a penis goes into a vagina and a sperm goes into an egg. Approximately nine months later, give or take, a squalling human is pushed into the world. Yawn. Let me tell you the reasonsI threw out my traditional "how babies are made" books.
First of all, not only is that story old and boring, it's not the lived experience of most people I know personally. There are so many ways to create a baby, sowhy would I teach my child a half-truth? A half-truth that could totally invalidate them and their lived experience before they are even allowed to know who theyare? Among the many feminist reasons I disapprove of the traditional baby-making books, I want my transgender daughter to feel represented in our home. A big piece of making that want a reality is presenting visibility and accessibility often and in thoughtful, tangible ways.
Second of all, how many more beautiful stories are there to tell about the way children come into existence? We erase these stories when we stick to this hetero- and cisnormative narrative. We're parents! We can be more creative than that, right? You can tell them their own story about what went into creating them, who was waiting for them, and who celebrated them. You can tell them how some people want to create, raise, and love a child so much that they spend a tremendous amount of time and money making sure that happens (as in in vitro fertilization, surrogacy, and adoption).
To be honest, this old story line always disturbed me, but I didn't think about actively disrupting it until I had children of my own. Now, not only have I thrown out any "how babies are made" books in my home, but I'm encouraging you to do the same.