Monday, April 24, 2006


So I'm nearly nine months pregnant. I pee constantly, my stomache lining is lodged in my esophagus and I can't walk through Target without getting winded.

I'm also at that point in my pregnancy when I start having those weird delivery dreams, where I give birth to kittens or to a full-grown man.

So last night I dreamed that I went to the hospital for my C-section, and the nurse kept insisting that she had to induce labor.

I kept trying to explain that I was only there for a scheduled C-section, and she showed me this X-ray of my womb with a long rip in it.

"You see?" she said. "Your womb is ripped. That means we have to induce."

She prepped me for the "induction" by smearing this clear fluid into my hoo-hah. It didn't feel bad, just cold, but then she sat down on the computer and started giving it commands.

See, the fluid was changeable, kind of like the T-1000 in Terminator 2, and it did whatever the computer told it to do.

"This may hurt a little," she said, and then I woke up, grateful the dream hadn't lasted long enough for the gel to form any "knives or stabbing weapons."

Meanwhile, my lovely son Owen was sleeping peacefully and dreaming about- I kid you not- riding in a car full of jelly beans with Cookie Monster.

Ah, to be four years old again.

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