The Shape of Things by Ray Bradbury
Peter Horn hadn't planned it that way at all. Neither he nor his wife imagined that such a thing could happen to them. They had talked quietly for days about the birth of their coming child, they had eaten normal foods, slept a great deal, taken in a few shows, and, when it was time for her to fly in the helicopter to the hospital, her husband, Peter Horn, laughed and kissed her.
"Honey, you'll be home in six hours," he said. "These new birth–mechanisms do everything but father the child for you."
She remembered an old–time song. "No, no, they can't take that away from me!" and sang it, and they laughed as the helicopter lifted themover the green way from country to city.
