For the most part, Waylon sleeps on his own, in his own crib. But usually to put him to sleep, he snuggles between Patrick and myself. Treasured moments.
The other night, not only Waylon drifted off, but Patrick did as well. In their resting faces, I was amazed by what I saw. The arch of their eyebrows, the line of their lips, the shape of their chins... all identical. And their right arms, both thrown onto their heads, hands limp.
I birthed a clone. A beautiful, smiling, ever joyful clone.
When we first found out we were expecting our little man, Patrick said to me,"This baby is going to look just like me." I laughed, and he laughed, but he insisted his genes were stronger than my own. I didn't put too much stock in his words. I mean honestly, there was a 50/50 chance, right?
Wrong. Now don't get me wrong. There are moments, expressions, that I can see myself mirrored in Waylon's face. But mainly, I see my husband. Even the way Waylon stands, leaning on one foot and crossing his other over, is just the way Patrick stands.
But now, with baby number 2, I can't help but wonder...
Will this one be another clone of my husband, or maybe, just maybe I'll have a little girl that looks just like me.
Either way, I can't lose.
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