She didn't sleep nearly as well. It wasn't her fault, really, or his. It was their unborn child's. The dream was pure confused hormones, something she'd be able to process much later, but which meant nothing while she was having it. She was in the house, now filled with furniture, and a baby was crying. She searched the whole house, but she couldn't find it. The longer she looked, the more panicked she became. In the end, she was twitching and whimpering in her sleep.