Daddy's Little Xenomorph

Sarah, in an effort to keep me in the loop, signed me up for an account at TheBump.  Always eager for new information and a deeper understanding of this thing that's happening to us, I excitedly opened my first email update.

See, they track the progression of your pregnancy, and send you helpful articles and tips like:  "Week 6: Hope You Like Vomit!" and "Week 7:  However Many Crackers You've Bought, It Isn't Enough.  No, Really."

At the bottom, almost as an afterthought, is a cute little section that describes in visceral detail the development of your Blasto-thing.  And it reads like something out of a Ridley Scott script:

Week 7:  This week, your embryo has shed its booklungs and is evolving several spiny protrusions that will turn into hand-holes.  Its nictitating eyelids begin blinking and veins appear everywhere.  Its spine fuses to its pancreas.

WTF!

I've seen pictures of embryonic development.  The process goes from something like:  Booger > Sea Monkey > Cocktail Shrimp > Jumbo Shrimp > Human Being.

 Of course I immediately picture a Sea Monkey, which doesn't do anything assuage my vivid imagination, which is spiraling out of control since, like humans, Sea Monkeys are born nude and...uh...

Ummmm....

Anyway, so I'm picturing what's going on in there based on TheBump's horrific description, and I'm Googling stuff like "Sigourney Weaver, midwife, sliding scale".

Hi.

So, I'm just going to keep my fingers crossed and hope that my little xenomorph doesn't come out looking like a slutty crustacean or microscopic nightmare fuel and that it elects to come out in the usual way, rather than bursting through my goodly wife's chest while we're watching Dexter, to leap into my arms and demand a sacrifice of crackers.

Turns out I AM the father.  :(