All I have to say is this: after a laugh-filled night of fold'ems and P.roject R.unway, I came home and flopped into bed. Despite waking at 2:30 for a pacifier request, and being horribly thirsty all the live-long night, I did manage to squeak out a few hours of sleep.
After C took E downstairs, I had the most dream-filled sleep of the night--somewhere between 6 and 7 AM. This stretch involved short films featuring friends from college (the likes of whom I haven't seen for at least 10, 12 years) and their fictional families. Also, I dreamt I was in a race, a sort of physical fitness test that's administered to pregnant ladies around this time. Again, hmmmm. But the best part, and of this I was completely convinced upon waking, I was pregnant not with a human child, but a tiger cub.
I remember thinking, "Oh shit! I can't have a tiger! What the hell is wrong with my genetics that this happened?!" And I asked the nurse, "Well, is it hard to nurse a baby tiger?" And then I was sad because I knew I wouldn't be able to nurse this baby tiger, and this baby tiger would have to go live in the wild, away from us somewhere and I still would be lonely.
I had an ultrasound that looked like I was peering through a porthole, only to see a life-sized, adult tiger peeking back at me.
Of course we want the best outcome, and I'll love this child no matter what. But I hope he doesn't have striped fur and giant teeth.