Then I grab hold of myself sternly and remind myself that while there might be a handful of nice things about said offspring, there are ten bajillion things I didn't and don't like about pregnancy, childbirth, rearing toddlers and being a parent in general. Besides, as my fiancé (who doesn't want children) remarked, who would be the father?
So it is nice to have a comfy, insulated dream instead, where there aren't negative issues with having a kid. I had one of those dreams recently.
In it, there was this party going on, and present was a woman expecting a baby. She was short, tiny-statured, gorgeous, Meditteranean-looking, and I've no idea who she was. Her husband was there too. Don't ask me what he looked like because I haven't a clue.
So the couple went on stage (don't know why) and said some stuff to everyone (don't know what they said). A few minutes later, they were standing right near me, and she said something (?) to indicate the baby was on its way. The husband and I raced her into a room nearby, which conveniently had a bed. She then demanded the cushion (?) which was a bizarre, soccerball sized item. She sat on that, then completely lay on her back, and the kid started arriving. Not only that, it was all over in five minutes flat. Did I mention that during the birth I just stroked her forehead without really doing anything to help? Did I mention this kid was of the size that would make a Polynesian mother-of-ten water at the eyes?* Let alone a tiny woman?
There was no mess anywhere. (Gotta love dreams for skipping certain details.) There also didn't appear to be genitalia. The kid just arrived from "somewhere". Never mind that when it was halfway out, its eyes were just passively closed as if it were sleeping through the whole thing. In fact, the woman might have slept through it all too, since there was no pain, or even discomfort, apparent. I just sat there wondering how the HELL this size kid had actually come from a lady so small.
Once it was born and the father grabbed it, he stood the baby up on the floor - yes stood the baby up. The kid STOOD THERE and stared. Yes, folks, newborns can stand unassisted, in complete safety. I sorta freaked out and told the father it was dangerous, the baby's head was way too fragile! Just like a delicate light globe, dude. And when I grabbed the kid, its head was actually a thin light globe.
Then we noticed it had a willy. Oooh, it's a boy! Cool, etc. Had they chosen a name, I asked?
They looked at each other and said yes, they had. Then said nothing. After a moment the father was like, well, we wanted to announce it to everyone at once. Like we did with
So I left. I located my best friend (no idea who she was) and announced I wanted to leave - walking to the train station alone if necessary. She agreed to come with me. Before we could actually go anywhere, they came onto the stage and announced its name
On the whole I think the realisation of just how unrealistic the scenario was just serves to remind me of all the reasons I don't want another kid. Like the whole panic, effort, expense, annoyance, exhaustion, frustration, pain, mess etc.
Also, I remember that my best friend was blonde and wearing white jeans. There should be a law against white jeans.
* This isn't a racism thing: Physiologically, Polynesian women have the biggest babies and most useful childbirthing body-parts.