“Here you go, ” the nurse smiles as she lays my baby girl in my waiting arms. “She’s a big one — thirty pounds!”
I wake up with a start. Oh, just another crazy pregnancy dream. Of course. This one seemed so real, so vivid, that my vagina was actually weeping in fear and agony. And who can blame it? No matter what the American Pregnancy Association says, no amount of Kegel exercises is going to save my vagina after popping out a baby the size of an Emperor Penguin.
Not only did I apparently give birth to a giantess, but the baby already knew how to talk. Yes, Emperor Penguin Baby repeated everything I said, which the nurse assured me was totally normal. Yeah, okay, lady. Again, the dream seemed so damn real that I am seriously reconsidering giving birth at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. They clearly need to do a better job of vetting their imaginary nurses.
*SIGH* I miss first-trimester sex dreams. That’s when I learned they call David Beckham “Golden Balls” for a VERY good reason. Nudge, nudge; wink, wink. And that my subconscious has a surprising sexual attraction to Alec Baldwin: The Chubby Years. But perhaps I’ve said too much.