I have always marveled at the birth process. The births of my own four children, as well as the numerous births I have had the honor and privilege of attending, have been some of the most beautiful, joyous moments of my life thus far. My husband, on the other hand, loves to refer to birth with somewhat colorful terms. It is, then, his fault that my sweet, feminine daughter came to me last night, with a lump underneath her shirt in the shape of her doll, and said, in a gentle, quiet voice, "Mommy, I am pumping out a baby. See, here I go!"....silence, as she quietly works through what I presume to be her last and final contraction...."There, Mommy! I pumped out another baby!!!" Do you see me rolling my eyes in my husband's general direction?!?!?