For Mother’s Day this year, my mom surprised me by having lilies delivered to my work. Tucked into the lilies were two stuffed bunnies–one pink, one blue–and a note that said something along the lines of “motherhood isn’t something you can study for.” Already, she knew that I was consuming too many articles, books, blogs,

I wanted a boy. Having already revealed on here that Babyface is a little girl, admitting that I wanted a little boy makes my stomach twist with guilt. What kind of mom admits that the blessing she was given wasn’t exactly the blessing she wanted? But gender disappointment is a real part of a lot