Week 13...

It is almost impossible to believe that I have been in bed since January 16th. Eighty-four days...

And today, when I called Dr. Dark-Cloud to inform him that my pancreas is on all-out strike on the 3rd shift, he said something that totally freaked me out. This was after he mentioned the "wisp" of insulin he's going to put me on over night(quite the poet). I really have to back peddle a bit on the whole Dr. Dark-Cloud thing--anytime he gives me bad news, he also tries his very best to soften it up with kind reassurances and encouragement. I might have left that out in my initial tirade about him being the king of doom and gloom.

What freaked me out was when he said, "Wow, 31 weeks today...that means we've got...four weeks left!" FOUR WEEKS???? A MONTH???? WHAT? I know I'm not a math wizz, but doesn't that only bring me to 35 weeks? Isn't pregnancy 40 weeks? Isn't MY pregnancy supposed to be 38 weeks, which to people who can do simple addition (I am one of those people), would mean I have 7 weeks to go?!!! When counting out M&M's, there's not a huge difference between 4 and 7 (unless you've got diabetes). But when you're counting the number of weeks your baby needs to stay IN YOUR BELLY, it seems like the difference between 4 and 7 is pretty vast.

So after I finished exploding on the inside , I managed to ask, "what?" as I searched for a paper bag to breathe into. Mercifully, the doctor explained what he meant--yes, they want to keep him tucked away inside of me for another 7 weeks, BUT if I were to experience any labor or further complications after another 4 weeks, they would not try to stop labor or they might actually create labor to put an end to the complication...

okay--that isn't so alarming, then. I just have to make sure I don't go into labor, and at that my friends, I am clearly an old pro.

What does make my bed-ridden foot start tapping with anxiety though, is that this announcement makes it screamingly clear to me that we are all but 100% unprepared to relocate this little man from his current residence. The nursery? Still a guest room. Furniture? Still in the store somewhere, waiting for us to see and purchase it. Oh my.

It's going to need to be like an Amish barn-raising when he finally does get here...