Mother’s Intuition Be Damned

For the last nineteen and a half weeks, I thought I was having a son.  I envisioned a pudgy, blonde-haired boy with my husband’s watchful blue eyes, inquisitive nature, and even temperament; as such, I have referred to the tiny child in my stomach as “he” during months leading up to the ultrasound appointment when the gender would finally be revealed. Against Doug’s wishes, I had even picked out a first name for my future son. Inspired by my husband’s profession and my love of slightly quirky baby names, I decided that my golden haired boy would be named Lennox, Nox for short.

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