I had a vivid dream last night that we went back to our fertility clinic and sat down with our doctor to get the ball rolling on trying to conceive again. He scrutinized our chart, his brow furrowed, as Lauren and I sat silently across the wide expanse of his desk in his two uncomfortable chairs. Finally he looked up.
“But what,” he asked, shaking his head, “did you do with the last baby I gave you?”
(Lauren’s response to hearing about this dream: “I’d punch him.” Upon my pronouncement that he would never say this in real life she amended, “I’d dream punch him.”)