So, false alarm on the belly button popping out…maybe mine just won’t stick out like other women’s.
Anyway, two or something weeks ago I did that dreaded glucose screening. My parents had no idea what I had in the fridge because my mother never had that test so I had to keep reminding them that it was something from my doctor and please don’t throw it away. If you don’t know, you have to chug a bottle of this flavored syrup and then get blood drawn exactly one hour later, it’s a test for gestational diabetes. Everyone I ever talked to about the test would tell me how horrible it was. Even the nurses talked about how I was going to love this test, it’s so much fun, like it is this hazing or rite of passage event that really really sucks, but it’ll be over soon enough.
Let me tell you, my syrup was lime flavored and a little carbonated and tasted like sprite. Really. It totally wasn’t bad at all. So there’s that.
I had my first in a series of weekly exams this past Monday. The ones where my doctor checks baby position and my dilation etc…
Baby is head down right now. Wahoo!
Two or so weeks ago I went to the hospital’s birthing prep class. Well, uh, the tour was nice at least. This past June I visited family in California and one of my cousins gave me her birthing prep class DVDs. I was only 12 weeks pregnant at the time but I felt comforted watching them, like I was going to be the most prepared first-time-mother in the hospital. Now I’m so so glad she gave me those because the real live class covered only about ½ of what was on the DVDs. In fact, the only thing I learned in the class that wasn’t covered on the video was that one of the other women there mentioned her mother delivered in that same hospital and when she got an epidural the medicine went up instead of down. She was going numb from the waste up…loosing her vision, having heart problems, etc. The nurse leading the class was a little flustered when this information was offered up because she had just finished telling us all how perfectly-safe-nothing-ever-goes-wrong-you-will-all-leave-your-husbands-for-the-anesthesiologist epidurals are. Let’s all say a prayer that I won’t need an epidural.
One of the things we did in the class was sit on the floor with our “partner” (the nurse kept saying husband even though at least four of us were definitely not married, three of us were there with our mothers!) and practice counter-pressure massage. My head nearly exploded because I hate being touched that much. There are actually only like three people (ok, three adults, I’m usually ok with kids I know) in the world who are allowed to invade my personal space. Luckily my mom read the horror on my face that I just couldn’t hide when our “partners” were supposed to rub our bellies and she kept her hands to herself.
Ok guys. Only one more month to go.
I’m hoping that I don’t go into labor until after noon on Christmas. Anytime after that. I just want to have one more Christmas morning the way we always have…except we have company this year we don’t usually have, but it’s close enough. Well, now that I’m thinking about it, I just don’t want to be in the hospital on Christmas morning, so I’d be ok if the babe showed up a few days before hand.
Also, since pretty much the latest arrival date would be the first week of January, I am declaring that February 1st is opening day of visitation. If you are planning on coming out to see us (and I hope you are!) this is your official notice; 1 February 2008 come one come all!