When you stay up all night at a birth and then sleep fitfully on the couch for a few hours, you enter a weird dream state where the people are all real, even the ones that can fly. A confectionery house with glittering pink trim, like the witch house in Hansel and Gretel. Lots of people who all feel familiar, milling around, some with wings. Vague sense of menace.
I woke up confused and thought I was there not here. When I realized I was still wearing my birth clothes and that I had to go back to the clinic in an hour, the candy house faded. I could no longer fly (too bad!)
The women are all fine and so are the babies.
And I can stay in bed all day if I want.