And then it was 7.

36 weeks tomorrow. THIRTY SIX WEEKS!!!

Saw fabulous Dr. J today who said "let's try for one more week, but if you can't make it that long, then I'll see you at the hospital."

If I make it, considering that I've dilated to a 7 now. Who does this? Walks around with a gaping hole in their body and doesn't end up having the baby at home? Seriously, I'm getting off this computer now and looking up "emergency home delivery".

I suppose there are two problems with that. First, I have to look it up on the computer (duh) and if I look up "emergency home delivery" I might get a pizza joint.

I just looked it up. Ok, the first thing that popped up wasn't pizza, it was "medical alert".

So, 7. A good friend of mine (who has her babies at home) came over last week and said "when I get to a 7, my water breaks and I have the baby 20 minutes later." That was in no way comforting.

Oh, and did I mention? The car with the air conditioning is in the shop. It's getting a new water pump. We can still get to the hospital, but we'd have to take the no-air truck. It's over 100 out there and a 15 minute drive. Not to mention that I don't really want to have the baby in the truck.

Oh, now I'm complaining. Sorry.

The tough part is, I want to wait another week (I carry my procardia around like it was The Ring or something... whispering to it "my precious") but I've had steady contractions for 3 hours now. I want my new beautiful daughter to come into the world as healthy as possible.

Bake baby, bake.

My handsome husband likes to proudly state that "if we were pioneers, we'd do just fine." And I believe him. He's a hard worker, patient, optimistic. However, if we were pioneers, we wouldn't have this baby. She would have shown up weeks ago, with no NICU to go to, and we'd just be sad. Even with all of the wonderful modern technology and medicine around, there can still be problems. I'm going to do whatever I can to make it easier for her to come into the world.

Guess I better go lie back down.