Pink for girls, blue for boys, or so they say.

When I was pregnant, and before we knew the sex of the baby, I insisted that our child would not be forced into gender-biased clothing.

Rather, our baby would wear only gender-neutral colors: green, white, yellow and red. We would not pigeonhole our child with pink or blue clothing into a gender stereotype.

As for toys, we planned to provide dolls for a boy and sports equipment for a girl. We insisted on being equal-minded people who would not create a gender bias for our child.

No way, not us.

When we registered for baby sheets, blankets, various nursery items, or picked out clothes for our pending baby, we were always prudent to keep the colors gender-neutral.

This was not difficult for me because yellow and green are two of my very favorite colors.

At our 20-week ultrasound we found out that there was a good chance (about 80 percent) our baby was a girl.

We were ecstatic. We couldn’t wait. But, we thought: &uot;What if we didn’t tell anyone the sex of the baby?&uot; Then everyone would be forced to follow our plan of gender neutrality. That was our plan.

Despite our efforts, family members were determined to figure out the sex of the baby. To counteract our gender-neutral plan, family members would give us pink or blue clothing, and then with a sly smile wait to judge our reaction.

Because we had already determined not to have gender specific clothes, we tried our best not to disclose the baby’s sex though our reactions.

Instead we steadfastly reminded others of our gender-neutral attitude. Much to their annoyance, we kept our secret well.

They kept their store receipts.

Then Molly was born and the secret was out. She was delicate and beautiful and everything precious that a little girl could be (and of course, still is).

A darling little baby girl that made you instantly want to coo and recite little songs about flowers and pretty things.

The day Molly was born, my mother-in-law arrived at the hospital with a beautiful white (gender-neutral) baby blanket.

Having heard the feminine name of the baby earlier that day, she also brought an adorable little pink outfit for Molly.

My mother-in-law being the mother of four boys and craving for a girl in the family, I remember her saying defensively, &uot;I only got one pink thing. Just one!&uot;

We didn’t mind a bit. In fact, we loved it. Molly looks so sweet in pink.

Since Molly’s birth, I’ve had a change of heart. Molly is our precious little princess and she looks perfect in pink dresses and pink frills. Despite our conversion to pink, we still believe that our daughter can be anything and everything she wants to be.

We will buy her toy trucks and sports equipment. We will push her in the sciences and math.

We have come to the resolution that it is OK for Molly to dress in a girly way.

After all, she may

save the world with a brilliant scientific breakthrough and still wear a cute pink suit along the way.

The color she likes and wears will not determine the person she is and will become.

Right now, Molly’s wardrobe is still comprised of mostly pink clothing; pretty dresses and girl-style overalls, garnished with butterflies and flowers.

She looks adorable and is a perfect, brilliant, equal-member-of-society princess.

If the question is &uot;Pink or Blue?&uot;, the answer is both. But Molly is certainly pretty in pink.

(K.Arnold writes about being a new parent.)