Last night we attended our first chirdbirth class at the hospital. I immediately realized how much I prefer exchanging information with other moms and moms-to-be on Internet bulletin boards. First of all, since people in the class know my real name and what I look like, I couldn't be exactly forthright. For example, we had to answer some icebreaker questions.

What is your greatest fear?
Safe answer: "post-partum depression. You hear stories about people like Andrea Yates and it gets you a little worried."
Real answers: Being induced with oxytocin but never getting any pain medication; retching on every hospital employee who walks in the room; tearing like a cheap rag so that all bodily fuctions are excruciating for months after; having a hairy, cone-headed, cross-eyed baby with a malformed mouth incapable of breastfeeding who screams at the sight, sound or smell of me.

I never could have said such things in front of these other nice, earnest young couples. After all, I've worked so hard at keeping up a front of normalcy as I go about in the world.

But now you all know some of the contents of my twisted imagination. Fortunately, you only know what a Lego version of me looks like. Whew. My weirdness is safe for now.