There is no baby yet.
Self-portrait as Walking Fetus Jail, From Which There Is No Escape, Also No Real Flattering Angle, My LANDS.
PS. No, Jason still hasn't looked in the attic for the missing swing part.
PPS. But he did make me a batch of fudge brownies (from scratch!) and let me eat pretty much all of them.
PPPS. Then he encouraged me to take a nice long bubble bath and even lit some candles.
PPPPS. Then he was all, "Sex can totally start labor, riiiiiight?"