Six months. Six months, one week and three days to be exact. One night of "carefully planned passion" and here I was looking like I swallowed an ever expanding beach ball. This had been the desired result of our little foray into sexual experimentation. One thing was for certain, the confidence he expressed in his "swimmers" was NOT misplaced. It had only taken one trial to prove his hypothesis and here I sit awaiting to see the conclusion. My only disappointment was that we didn't have to opportunity to see if we could repeat the results.

The shelves on my wall are full of well read and annotated reference material on the subject of maternal and infant care, one thing that worries me are the numerous instances of conflicting information. One book recommended abstaining from all caffeine for the duration of pregnancy another proclaims up two cups of coffee was well within a healthy range. How could I process this like a scientist without solid irrefutable data and facts?

The sheer number of decisions that needed to be made about child rearing was daunting. Thus far I have established that I will breast-feed and have purchased a quality pump to make this possible upon my return to work. I have purchased glass baby bottles and an organic cotton layette. I have opted against co-sleeping despite its prevalence in many non-western cultures. My cerebellum aches with the stress of making all of the decisions for another human being, but I find that rubbing my abdomen is rather soothing on frayed nerves. Leaning back on the arm of the sofa I promise myself that I will close my eyes just long enough for the spell to pass.

"Bones!" He burst through my front door "Look what I got here!" Despite the fact that he still lives on the other side of town, he is at my house at least 5 evenings a week. My partner both in work and in the producing of progeny was suddenly in my living room carting an extremely cumbersome box. "Booth? What are you doing?" My tiered voice cannot hide a hint of annoyance at his intrusion. If he noticed, he didn't let on. Instead he kept right on talking. "It arrived just today! It is a Travelgear 3000, consumer reports gave it the best rating for safety on all 10 tests. I had it specially ordered!" Out of the box suddenly appears the object of such excitement. A stroller and car seat combination, similar to the hundred others I had examined at the Babymart last week. Except that this one looks like it could survive a nuclear attack, needs to be plugged in and recharged regularly and is outfitted in orange and black trim with a very familiar mark in the center of the seat.

I sigh "I notice that you had it ordered special." Booth's grin was that of a mischievous school boy "It was the Flyers special addition!"

Despite my misgivings I can't help but smile back at him. "It's hideous and ridiculous, but I am sure the child will love it." The couch sags as he flops on the sofa next to me. "Watcha studying tonight?" he inquires but grasps the book out of my hand. That gives away my intent instantly, 1001 Baby Names is fairly straightforward. "Baby names" he says slowly. My quickening pulse tells me that I am anxious about how he will respond. "Jeeze Bones, that is a heavy topic for tonight."

"Why? It is an inevitability. The fetus will need a name." I know instantly that once again I have said the wrong thing. "True Bones, but a baby's name is the first gift a parent gives to their child. Although I agree it needs to be done, if only so you will stop referring to our child as 'fetus."

"There is nothing wrong with fetus." I protest. "Fetus is an accurate description of its current level of development."

He shakes his head, but is smiling so I know he isn't angry. He glances over at me, "Do you really want to discuss this now?"

I smile back at him. "What makes you think that you get a vote, this was supposed to be my fetus." I emphasized the last word knowing it would get under his skin. Something about the hormones has made me enjoy our verbal sparring matches more.

"Hey that was a low blow there momma!" Now I glare, his choice of words is trying to get a rise out of me.

He laughs, it is one of my most favorite sounds in all the world. Something I desperately hope is an inherited trait. "Well what names have you found that strike your fancy?"

"No" I shake my head, "nothing fancy. I want our baby to have a solid strong name that will hold up in the academic field."

Again with the smiles, "Something solid that sounds good in an ESPN interview." It is clear our goals are not in harmony. "Well…" he looks at me seriously.

"I think I want something with meaning."

"I agree" he replies," but it has to be a name that won't get the kid teased. I have to admit Seeley didn't always go over well on the playground."

"But everyone calls you Booth. Not that we can name the baby that. Booth Booth is not a good name for a child" Even I know as that leaves my lips that it was a stupid comment. I plan on blaming it on hormones.

His face is shocked, but I can tell he is going to ignore the last comment. For that I am grateful "NOW they do Bones, not when I was 8 they didn't. How did you feel about your name as a kid?"

"Well as you know I go by Brennan mostly. Even with Angela. But I am not sure if that is because of I dislike my name or if it just feels too personal." I love that I can be totally honest with Booth. "But really that was a name my parents found. Let's not forget that they really named me Joy."

"I know Temperance." He emphasized my first name for some reason. "Joy is a lovely name, but it doesn't suit you. It doesn't have mystery or well…pizzazz."

"So do you want to name it Pizzazz?" Another pregnancy moment. I read about this in 8 out 10 books I read, they call it 'baby brain.'

"Don't be ridiculous! Seriously though, any thoughts?"

"Actually, yes. Claude or Claudia for the French Anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss. His work studying the organization of families was groundbreaking."

Booth looks at me confused. "Levi Strauss, the guy who makes pants?"

I know how Booth must feel every time I lack comprehension of a popular culture reference. "No, Levi was his first name. This man's name was Claude, I said that already." I don't want to insult him, so I ask his opinion "What about you?"

" Since you agreed to let the baby have my last name, Brennan makes a pretty good middle name. What do you think? Or maybe Christine after your mother?"

I can't help it. His effortless compassion overwhelms me and I start to cry. I break out in heavy sobs, all I manage is a ragged "How…do…you…know…it's…a ….girl?" His arm is resting around me in an old familiar comforting way. When we sit like this it feels like family. Maybe someday. He offers me a tissue. "I don't know, I just, you know, feel it." I look up at him. I can't hide my surprise. "Booth I think it is a girl too."

"Well if it IS a boy I vote for Bobby. Bobby Clark was the best man the Flyers ever had!" I smile and give him a hug. There is NO way that our baby is going to be Bobby Booth.

February 23, 2010 10:17 a.m.

After 17 hours of labor, and more than a few arguments. Claudia Brennan Booth made her way into the world. 7 lbs. 11 oz. 19 inches long. A perfect 10 on the Apgar scale. What she didn't know was that as her daddy held her in his arms for the first time, his smile was not just for the perfect angel in his arms.

What this baby didn't know was that today her daddy asked her mommy to marry him.

What this baby didn't know was that despite a lifetime of fear and running away, the beautiful woman sleeping in the bed next to them had inexplicably and irrationally said….

Yes.