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  • Statistics say:: 49% chance of a Boy
  • Genetic Family History says:: 27% chance of Girl
  • Wishful thinking for a little variety says:: Boy
  • Neighborhood friends’ gender trends say:: Girl
  • My fickle, unreliable intuition says:: Boy
  • My friend Natalie, middle of three sisters says:: Girl
  • My friend Brieanne says:: Boy
  • The belly positioning says:: Girl
  • The lack of nausea says:: Boy
  • Araiya says:: Girl
  • The random hair growth says:: Boy
  • Murphy’s Law says :: Girl
  • Araiya says:: Boy
  • The thickly-accented Dutch ultrasound scanner at the hospital says::

Well, she said there wasn’t any outdoor plumbing. And that’s a quote.

They say:: Girl.

Which means I don’t have to change any of the wardrobe, toys, blankets or other baby-related paraphernalia we already own. Which means good things come in three’s. Which means every pregnancy is different. Which means perhaps I need to learn to really like pink. Like, a lot. Like really embrace pink in all shades and forms.

It’s not that I don’t like pink. I do… well, Kinda. In moderation, at least. Until I go out shopping, where the prospect of actually purchasing pink and sifting through the hoards and hoards of this hue nearly send me into mild panic attacks which may or may not involve dry heaving. I can’t do it. I can’t stand being confronted with that much pink. It’s like sensory overload, sending me reeling and wishing for pure simple whites, grays, even reds- unadorned and minimal. Drat the lack of selection, drat being forced into a stereotypical cultural idiom that is girly embellishment, ruffles and Disney Princess overkill. I came home slightly terrified of the immense girliness our house will be subjected to- Three Proms, Three teenagers, Three boyfriends. Araiya is already asking for pink Bunk Beds. But you know what? Girls are great. They don’t make sticks into swords or guns. They tend to be easier to potty train. They are familiar.

I think my friend Cein sums my reaction up quite well: “made me real happy, like force feeding pink to a white cube.”

Three Girls. Oh yea. Bring it on.

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