My kid looks nothing like me. No, he’s not adopted. You see, even though I grew him and gave him half my genetic material, he is basically a tiny version of my husband. It’s like I wasn’t even there. (Though I remember the pregnancy and labour quite vividly.)

My son looks so much like my husband that the first thing the nurse said was, “Wow, he looks like Dad.” Yes, even as a newborn, when most newborns look like tiny, pink old people, mine apparently resembled my husband. No need to call in Maury Povitch on this one, folks.  Continue reading →