It doesn't mean anything

Last night, I dreamed I had a baby. At one point, I'm fairly certain it was a girl, but in another part, it was a boy. Named Liam, which, in my dream, I was berating myself for naming my child that when my friend Amanda just named her cute little tyke Liam. Like I couldn't come up with a name on my own, even if it is a great name. The most disturbing part of the dream: I went shopping with my baby, and upon loading up the stroller, I realized that I couldn't hold the baby in my arms and load the stroller at the same time. The solution: to hang onto the baby with one hand by its arm! Two things I know for certain: I'm worried what kind of parent I'll turn out to be and I may be coming down with a baby itch, which I'm sure will only get more aggressive once I see my unborn niece in February and my other niece or nephew later that month. I just need to think of all the yoga and sleep I'll miss out on. That'll heal up the baby itch for a bit longer.