It reminds me of when I went skydiving with my good friend Jake during college. First, he had to talk me into agreeing to go with him in the first place. And then when we were up in the tin can they call a plane, I wouldn't have been able to bring myself to jump out the door without the mustachioed tandem guy strapped to my back, rolling me out the door. I'm thinking childbirth will be something like that.
For our last night as a couple sans offspring, I did what any perfect housewife would do. I made a roast turkey for my man.