Welcome the newest girl
in the battalion
of Sandoval granddaughters.
The sonogram shows
the tiny peanut inside
my sister-in-law’s growing belly
is growing exponentially,
and looks to be
less of a baby and
closer to a monster
truck that coos.
And yet, I already know
she’s destined (doomed?) for
minnie mouse bottles,
princess ad nauseum
and pink everything.
I, for one, welcome
the bundle of feminine

She has no idea
what awaits her
in the world
outside her mother’s
vast and enveloping
Right now she
swims in an ocean
of the world
she knows.
But the world
we know
the impossible–
sweetness, attitude,
and servitude.

Picture it:
“Girl Power!” is posted
on a dorm room wall
where a young girl,
new to the grit
of the real world
sits at the edge of her bed,
trying to fight off
the dizziness–a symptom
anyone who hasn’t
eaten in three days
could expect.
This young woman
was once awaited
by a family like mine.
She traveled her
mother’s channels,
tested her father’s patience,
and here she is.
Alone and hungry.
She reaches
out for a hand
or a glove
or a semblance
of skin.

My niece has formed
her skin,
her fingers, her eyes,
her toes,
and in a few month’s time,
she will be welcomed
by a family who will
love her so deeply,
she will be full to the
brim of it
for her entire life.
We will embrace her,
we will tell her she is
smart, and kind, and powerful,
and worthy.

The world will bang on the door,
hollering they need another
Instagram star,
another girl to assague
the male gaze and
boredom that engulfs
viewers who do not
experience feminine
stimulation for five minutes.
Men who push
girls into bones.

Baby girl,
you will be loved.
You will be tested.
You will be pushed,
and it will be hard to
push back.
You will be taught.
Begged for.
Baby girl,
you will be fought.
And no matter
which road you take,
we will fight beside you.


2 thoughts on “It’s A Girl

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