I came thisclose to farting in her face (this is what pregnancy will do to you - it's hard to hold them in!), but I did hold it in because I remembered that she may very well have a knife and free reign with my lady parts in 11 short weeks. And 11 weeks is not enough time to forgive someone for farting in your face.
The good news is that Declan is growing well and his heart rate was perfect. The bad news is that my body is stupid and thinks it's time for him to be born. My cervix is soft and a little bit dialated. Dumb, dumb cervix.
So now I'm on "modified bed rest" - I can still walk around and do normal things, but no lifting above my head, no sex, and absolutely no running, jumping, or squatting. Basically the Dr told me to lay down as much as possible, so that Declan's weight is kept off of my unforgivably stupid cervix. When she said this, I pictured myself jumping and him falling right out of me. Ew.
So those 11 weeks that the good doctor would have had to forgive me had I farted in her face may actually be nine or ten weeks - she thinks he'll come early. Luckily for him, he's a tank, and will probably be fully developed by then. I'm just praying that I make it to October, for purely selfish reasons - if he's born in September, his birthstone won't be opal, and the gorgeous opal necklace that Aaron got me will be meaningless!
Oh well, shouldn't have counted our chick before he hatches, I suppose.