The past few weeks have looked like this:
- The amount of adequate sleep I get is directly proportional to the absurd number of pillows I surround myself with. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I am greeted with the physical reminders that I am pregnant. It’s like my body forgets, only to discover that getting out of bed requires more stamina, and once I make it to my feet the weight of my growing midsection feels so much heavier than it does during the day.
- Baby girl gets stronger everyday and we love it. Our new favorite night time activity is laying on my back, and watching her body wriggle, stretch, and push in her womb-room. We try to guess what part made the move, but we have absolutely no idea what we are talking about. Sometimes, if she taps in a spot, Nik will tap back and we pretend they are playing tag.
- Pregnancy has eliminated the normal social barriers. Everyday at work and each Sunday at church I am subjected to dozens of, “You are finally showing!” by people’s whose names I don’t know. My belly gets rubbed, personal questions are asked, and for the most part I don’t mind it. I waited forever to watch a bump appear to, and I’m glad people are acknowledging my hard work.
- I waver between two observations on pregnancy to Nik: “Pregnancy is so much easier than everyone says,” and “I don’t think I’m going to make it. How can I do (x) more weeks of this?!” Which mood I am in most likely depends on the following factors: my blood sugar, if baby girl has decided to sit too low on my hips or up too high in my ribs, or if I have caught sight of my reflection when I look large.
- At week 27 I went to take the infamous gestational diabetes test. I had to fast the night before, chug the sugar drink an hour prior to my appointment, and then arrive to the appointment 20 minutes prior to needing my blood drawn. I had it all planned out, including dropping Nik off for the Google bus, and driving to the appointment at the correct time in San Ramon. Upon arriving for my appointment, the lab tech asked me if I had brought my paperwork. Paperwork! In the rush of the morning, I had forgotten my paperwork, because I was so obsessed with the orange drink. The tech said she would call her boss, and I should call my doctor. No phone calls were allowed in the waiting room, so I went outside, frantically trying to get a hold of my doctor. It was before the doctor’s office was open, so before calling the after hours number, I went in to see what the tech’s boss had said. She said that her boss said without the doctor’s permission, they could not draw my blood, and then added, “And as you were making phone calls out there, I saw you pacing back and forth, so I couldn’t do the test anyways.” In front of a waiting room of other patients waiting to have their blood drawn, I threw the type of frustrated fit only a fasting, sugar high, 28 week pregnant lady could. Exasperated, I pleaded, “Please! I already drank the drink. Please just draw the blood for that one test.” She refused, and I stormed (waddled) out, defeated.
- At my 28 week appointment the nurse asked why they hadn’t received my diabetes results yet. Embarrassed, I explained the paperwork story. She got me all worked up about the situation by nagging on the lab. High off of the validation from her complaints about the lab, I was caught off guard when she handed me another orange drink saying, “Go to the lab in Pleasanton instead.” Blegh.
- Now, into my third trimester, I love thinking about baby girl spending her last months with the sole purpose of gaining chub. I also know her lungs are getting practice from the daily hiccups she gets. Nik and I have both had dreams where she came out with a ton of hair, but her arrival was early! I keep telling everyone, “I’ll probably go past my due date,” with the hope if I say it enough, it’ll be true. I don’t want her to come before she’s ready.