I looked down at my daughter and could feel my love for her radiate through my body. She was a perfectly beautiful baby, with short, slightly curly, blondish hair, her daddy’s blue eyes, an angelic Gerber baby face, and most importantly, all ten fingers and toes. As I admired her freshly washed, naked body she smiled back at me with her gummy, sweet, cherrub faced smile. She cooed and giggled as she kicked her little chubby legs around in merriment. I went to put her diaper on and noticed that between her legs there was this flattened, plastic, inflatable penis. I stood back in complete horror and confusion as I saw this plastic penis inflate and watched my beautiful baby girl turn into a little boy right before my eyes.

The next thing I knew I had a three year old little boy in my arms complete with a blond beard. I was upset because it wasn’t my child and went down to the hospitol to collect the correct one. I stood at the admission desk straight off the set of ER while doctors, nurses and patients whirrled around me. The charge nurse wanted nothing to do with me and I quickly became upset. My husband was furious with me for causing a scene, telling me that the bearded toddler in my arms was perfectly healthy and that we should just keep him. I continued to argue my point that the hospitol had made a mistake and had given me the wrong child. I told the charge nurse it was their fault for mixing up the children and that I wanted to return the bearded little boy and take home my little girl. The charge nurse told me that I couldn’t return the little boy without a receipt and pointed to a large invoice page with my signature in large bold print letters, like children all of a sudden come UPS or something. I was then told that because I had already signed the little boy out there was nothing I could do about it. I would never see my little girl again.

Needless to say I woke up that night in a very strange place. It took me a while to figure out the madness wasn’t real and I sat in the dark for quite some time trying to unravel my thoughts regarding this disturbing dream. While I’m concious, I am overly excited to have my first child despite the international hurdles my husband and I have had to overcome. Is my subconsious trying to tell me something different? Or is this simply one of the wacky, extremely vivid dreams that all pregnant women get that I’ve read about? And then I started to panic. What if I’m not ready? What if I’m not a good enough parent? What if I decide I’m not cut out to be a mom? What if…

On the verge of tears I finally came to my senses and remembered all the little things I am so excited about. From picking and blowing dandilions to exploring the world together, I can’t wait to be able to introduce my favorite activities and places to my daughter. Despite my fears and worries all I can really do is grab that proverbial bull by the horns and ride. I’m human, therefore I will make mistakes, but truth be told I know deep down I will be a terrific mother.

Regardless, the first thing I did the next moring was double check that I saved all the reciepts for everything I’ve bought so far.

Amy, 33, Germany

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