Hmm, just met the doctor. I'll call him Dr. Eeyore Allen, as he is a combination of Woody Allen and Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. I'm sure it's bad form to make fun of the doctor who'll deliver your child, but I'll go ahead and do it anyway. He has long black bangs that he keeps brushing out of his face while he talks. His voice is nasal and wanders off as he thinks out loud. It's a rambling sort of dialogue that I'm sure is full of useful information if it were in any coherent order. He looks like he hasn't slept since he first started medical school, which may not have been that long ago. I wish he'd stop itching.

He handed my wife a consent form for something called a Foley ball/bulb. The idea is to place this inside her and make her irritated. It's working and they haven't even started.