Bed Rest

I will forewarn you, this will not be a clever post. Not a happy, witty one, or an intellectual insightful one, it will be booby. (That means sad. I once bore my testimony about how I boob. I meant cry. That was embarrassing....)
We had a doctor's check up yesterday. I was 1000% expecting a good report. I have been feeling so much better and little Chuck is still round-house kicking his way all around. I have had some contractions but I didn't think anything to worry about.
So without giving you the gory details, the doctor checked all up my basement and we found another problem. HENCE: Bed rest. Bed rest with bathroom privileges.
Woah.
I don't think I'm so much as upset with the bed rest as I am with the thought that our little ninja might be affected. I am so worried about him. The doctor says that if it continues down this path, by next week we will be giving him shots for his lungs to prepare him to breathe for his early arrival.
I want him to cook for 10 more weeks. (I'm at 30). I am not ready for this. HE is not ready for this. I asked if we could just use a cork or duct tape or something to keep him in there but I guess that won't work. They also said I am measuring a week small so he might be even less prepared than I hoped. So much for my theory of an 80 pound dinosaur.
So, bed rest sucks. Not so much a vacation. But I am willing to do whatever I can for my boy. I want more than anything a healthy baby - the rest is inconsequential.
So every day he stays cooking will be a blessing. Every day, hopefully every week, and hopefully even a month or two....and hopefully he could even be late and I wont' even complain if he is 70 pounds and has a full beard. I really won't.
So I am sitting here, bra-less, trying not to boob, but boobing anyway, just worried. If anybody has any good hobbies to do while I work on my bum fat, let me know....