Pa-few!

I've been sweating bullets all week, and literally drove myself to tears Tuesday, certain that I was going to deliver this kid while hubby was in Vegas this week.

I don't remember ever feeling this big with Ben, though I weigh slightly less (and when I say slightly I mean 5 lbs which is minimal but certainly made me happy enough to mention here). I feel pressure everywhere, my back is killing me, I can barely pick up Ben, I'm so tired, the list goes on.

And then I went to my doctor on Tuesday and she said the baby had dropped, I'm 2cm dialated (more than I ever was with Ben before my water broke), and to be prepared for a fast delivery.

That was the night before hubby left for a three day trip to Vegas. (WHO CLEARED THAT GENIUS IDEA?? you might be wondering...I'm sure months ago it seemed like a fine plan).

I freaked. Certain I'd be delivering this baby alone at the hospital after being forced to abandon Ben at home alone. Tuesday night I had a dream that I gave birth to a liter of (6) raccoons. Raccoons!

Geez.

But now it's Friday evening. My sis is an hour away, and hubby is due back later tonight. Phew. We made it.

And I'm sure I've increased the odds of this babe being induced a week past my due date just for being so neurotic, but I swear it feels like it's going to fall out any minute...

(is this the same relaxed, confident new mom that posted those sunny sentiments earlier this week?)