One night, while I was holding the baby in a delusional half-awake-half-asleep state (at around 3am), I noticed that the comforter was moving up and down and I was CONVINCED our baby was somewhere under the covers and about to suffocate.
In a slight panic, I started to thrash the comforter around and very seriously and firmly told Scott "where is the baby?! Help me find her! She's somewhere under here!" At which point, a very confused and sleep deprived Scott said: "She's right there" while he was throwing around the covers in the same fashion I was.
So there we were, FRANTICALLY throwing the blankets and pillows around, all the while with me shouting: "where is she?!" and Scott shouting: "She's right there!"
Finally, I couldn't move the blankets around anymore and still safely hold my baby in my arms, so I stood up, walked to a corner of the room and swallowed a cry lump while shouting: "Find my baby! Please find my baby!"
Scott continued to throw around the covers and say: "Carrie, she's right there!" Until I woke up, and realized that I had been holding my baby the whole time.
Both of us silent and panting, Scott and I stared at each other and figured out that I had been dreaming.
It was weird.