Still feeling uneasy about the whole thing, but taking comfort in not really having any sort of choice in this matter. He can't just stay where he is, and if I were to go into labor - it's already been determined that my bone structure (funnel shaped pelvic bone - thanks Mom!) is absolutely incapable of "birthin' a baby" without said baby being seriously brain damaged if delivered at all. So. Having no choice is working for me here!
The good news is, I just finished spot cleaning the entire downstairs carpet.
God willing, by this time tomorrow I'll be holding my beautiful new baby and enjoying the pleasant calm of vicodin.
I know that many of my readers aren't religiously inclined - but heck.
Pray for me and little Jack anyway, okay?