I woke this morning from a dream. I was pregnant with twins (a boy and a girl). I had a routine doctor’s visit, and he said, “How about we give you an ultrasound?” I asked him why, and he shrugged — as if everyone got one of those. So we did. And I saw the babies, sitting up, side by side. The technology was far superior to any ultrasound I’d had before. It was like looking at a photograph. I could tell by their faces that one was a boy and one was a girl. I left the doctor’s office determined not to let my pregnancy show, as though I could help it. I show at conception, I assure you. And I knew that I couldn’t tell Scott yet — he’s just not ready to handle this news.
When I woke up and told him my dream, he said, “You really shouldn’t hold other people’s babies at parties anymore.”
Men. What do they know?