Of course I was in the delivery room when my younger daughter Peony was born, but it’s not as if I pulled her out of my vagina à la Kourtney Kardashian. I had a C-section and there was a curtain separating my head from everything below it, so before I even could get a glimpse of her tiny face, they whisked her away to wrap a blanket around her, stick a hat on her head, or clean the gunk out of her ears, or something.
It’s because of the fact that I didn’t actually see her the moment she was born, plus a few other reasons, that I’m seriously starting to question whether she’s really my daughter or if she got inadvertently switched with some other baby on the morning of her birth.
Here are 10 of the main reasons I’m starting to suspect my younger daughter might not actually be mine:
Photo credits: iStock
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