Dream of Wife and Child

I felt like it should be made like a bird's nest. But those couldn't be carried around, could they? Throwing a bunch of twigs together like a crow, that was all wrong. I was taking a walk to clear my  head, maybe, and happened upon a construction site. It was a neighbourhood I had lived in once, for two years, but it was different, there were new buildings, bigger ones. Like, nine storeys and growing higher. It was a weekend or something, because nobody was working. I'd worked on constructions sites sometimes, and out of curiosity I snuck in.
Good thing I did, I found some insulation wool or whatever you call it in English, and sat down on it. It was soft. That's when it hit me, why not use this for the nest? Yeah, this was it. I looked around, saw that nobody was looking, and then I grabbed the wool and stuffed my pockets with it. This was a victimless crime, I didn't steal enough to cause trouble for anyone, and it was going for a good purpose.
Building the nest itself was the issue. I felt a strong urge to make it like a bird's nest, out of twigs, but with more finesse, more... sophistication.
I don't know where I got them from, but I had a bunch of willow branches, young ones, very flexible. I took some string and tied two together at the middle. I thought it would be nice to bend them up and make a sort of bowl out of it. The young willow branches did bend nicely without cracking, but they wouldn't stay up. I tied two more into it, kind of like the British flag. After bending them all up, I thought I could use the string to force them to stay up.
I tried pretty hard to tie the string in a way that left the distance between the branches as even as possible. In the end it was nice and taut, and I had the frame of the nest ready.

Looking at the frame I had built, I felt like I could finish the nest before she even got home. It would be a nice surprise.
I took more fresh and flexible twigs and started to form layers of circles inside the frame, starting at the bottom. Soon enough I realized this wasn't good enough; the bottom would have gaps.
The nest wasn't even supposed to be waterproof or anything, the egg would never have to endure the elements in it. But it would be kind of nice to have one anyway, so I wanted to make it right. I wished I knew how weave wicker or something, but I didn't, so the string would have to do.
I put rows of twigs along the bottom to patch it up before continuing with the "walls" of the nest. This was tedious work with no surprises or tribulations to go on with it, but it had to be done, and it was.
The nest was now rudimentally finished, and big enough to fit a football in with room to spare. That's where the insulation wool came in. I padded it into a mat at the bottom about three fingers thick, and proceeded to make it roughly a finger and a half thick around the walls. But then a problem presented itself.
While the child probably wouldn't have to spend any time in the nest after hatching, the wool was not at all comfy against the skin, and I imagine it would be even less so against the soft scales and smooth skin of a newborn. Something would have to be done about it.
I took a needle and thread and found some smooth, soft linen, and started to sew that atop the insulating wool, leading the needle and thread through gaps in the twigs. The nest ended up unnecessarily comfy after this.

I was proud of my work. Yes, it was clumsily cobbled together, but it was made by hand, and it's the thought that counts. Now all that mattered was where to put it. If only I had a velvet pillow to lay it on...but the living room table would have to do.
She opened the door and came in after a while. Her tummy was slightly bulging, but nowhere near as big as it would be if she was pregnant with a live child. She had brown hair and glasses, not that it matters. It was her smile that mattered, the smile she wore when I rushed to greet her like a puppy. It was almost always like this.
I barely reached up to her chest and my shoulders ended where hers began, but the difference in size was never a problem for us. Or the fact that she older than me by a decade. I hugged her and got a pat on my head before showing her the nest. She didn't say anything about it, just giggled approvingly.
She could have given birth days ago, but I had wanted a proper nest for our child to be born in, and she had humoured me, holding it in. Now that wait was over.
There was no need for a midwife or a hospital visit when it came to laying eggs, they were just eggs, after all. But I fussed about it like fathers do when their firstborn is on the way. She let me for a while, but then she inhaled sharply and pushed the egg out in a single motion. It came out so easily I feared her pussy was ruined, but then I was too busy to worry, I caught the egg with my oven mitts and showed it to her. Words cannot describe her smile.
The unborn child and her protective shell were so heavy I needed both hands to carry her safely, and I feared my nest would break as I placed her in it, but that didn't happen. The child inside would develop at her own pace and come out when she was ready. The egg would be fine, as it was a Dragon's egg and needed very little external heat to develop Then I felt heavy claws on my shoulders and a hot breath in my ear, a signal telling me it was time for bed.