Friday, September 6, 2013

Seven Quick Baby Takes: 26 weeks

I had another OB appointment last Tuesday, during which I actually met the doctor who is probably going to be catching this baby. (That's what it says on his website. He doesn't deliver babies; he catches them.) I like him a lot so far, though of course I reserve the right to change my opinion after I've talked to him a few more times. (Though I certainly hope I don't decide that I dislike my OB at 30 or 32 weeks. I'm much too lazy to switch.)

The downside is that he didn't come in until an hour after my scheduled appointment, but I knew when I took the right-before-lunch slot I'd probably be waiting a while. (Best time slot: Early morning. Second best: Right after lunch.) And despite the fact that he was obviously running late, he sat down and made sure I knew about all the stuff in my chart (like my blood type and the fact that I don't have STDs) and we talked extensively about my L&D visit the previous week and a fair bit about Metformin and glucose tolerance and hormones and all that fun stuff. (His policy: If you were on Metformin for a while and especially if you needed Metformin to get pregnant, you should probably just stay on it. So I didn't have to have fun conversations about insulin and breastfeeding. Too bad.)

Also, my blood pressure was 130/70 (nobody commented on it this time) and I weighed 197. That's just 4 pounds up between 21 and 25 weeks; 14 pounds up overall. I'm kind of proud of myself, which is silly because I've been continuing to Eat All The Things. I think Tad burns a lot of calories with his intrauterine gymnastics.

During my appointment, I got a bottle of medicinal Kool-Aid to take home and put in my fridge, because apparently the stuff is better chilled. The MA was very insistent that I pick between the orange flavor and the fruit punch flavor, even though I told her that I had no preference because I'm pretty sure they're both disgusting. So I picked fruit punch because I don't like the color orange. I hope I don't regret that decision.

My glucose screen and next appointment are mid-afternoon on the 17th. I think they actually go to lunch from 1-2 at this office, so I might not have to wait forever and half a day. We'll see. It also occurs to me that doing the glucose screen in the afternoon stacks the deck in my favor a bit; I know from long experimentation that I metabolize sugar best between lunch and dinner. I'm still not looking forward to metabolizing that sugar, though.

Because my OB is awesome, one of the things he asked at my last appointment was if I'd thought of how I wanted my birth to go. I told him that I had some general ideas but needed to figure out how to do birth plans and whatever, and we moved on to some other topic. (I think, actually, that's when we moved on to chasing Tad around with the Doppler. He's "probably transverse" now--so good thing I didn't get all excited when the ultrasound tech thought it was a big deal that he was vertex last time--and uncooperative as usual, but the OB clocked his heart rate at around 160, which is normal for him.)

I hope Dr. B was actually curious when he asked about my birth preferences, because I now have a LONG list of questions for my next appointment. Also, I discovered that wearing your own clothes is apparently a thing in the natural childbirth community. Wearing hospital gowns is depersonalizing or something. Here I always thought that the best part of giving birth in a hospital was getting to bleed all over SOMEBODY ELSE'S STUFF. Actually, I still think that, so that's one thing I don't have to put in my Super Long Birth Plan of Doom Yes I'm a First-Timer With Control Issues.

Incidentally, when I went to L&D the other week they actually asked me if I wanted to keep wearing my own nightgown and I declined in an "Are you crazy?" tone of voice. Now I feel bad. Sorry, hospital peoples! Keep offering to allow your patients to maintain their personal identities!

Sometimes, I notice Tad jerk as if he's being startled awake from a deep sleep. It makes me wonder what he could be dreaming about. I mean, he can't see anything, besides having a vague idea of light and dark. Maybe his dreams are like those old-timey radio programs.

Working on my giant Baby Todolist is taking a very long time, because turns out things like dishes and cooking and grocery shopping still need to be done. However, this week I did succeed in signing up for a childbirth class (and a bonus free breastfeeding class). The main downside is that childbirth classes apparently go like hotcakes and so the only one available runs until December 10. First babies never come early, right? (Scott says it doesn't matter if we waste our money, as long as they don't require you to do a live demonstration if you go into labor before the class ends. He has a way of cutting to the heart of the issue, doesn't he?)

I also proofread baby shower invitations and made some final tweaks to my registry. As I mentioned, my mother is hosting, so I am trying not to be too Pregzilla about the whole thing, because everybody knows that hosting your own shower is rude, and ghost-hosting by bossing your mother around is even ruder. Anyway, the invitations are super cute, but I can't really show you because they have my last name and my parents' address and my mother's email and phone number on them, and if I put on that many black boxes they won't be cute anymore.

Scott and I have also been making "What if I go into labor while you're at work?" plans. He is making good progress on his driving lessons, so the plan for him to get his license is on track. Meanwhile, we figured out busses. Having him take the car to work is impractical for lots of reasons, but the X bus, being a commuter express bus, only runs in mornings and evenings. Fortunately, the Y bus and the Z bus both also stop at Local Mall, so theoretically he could drive the car to Local Mall, ride the X bus to work, get a midday call from me, ride the Y or Z bus up to the mall, get the car, drive to our apartment, pick me up, and drive on to the hospital.

The only real disadvantage of this plan is that the Y and Z busses, being not express busses, take longer. So it would take Scott a good 60-90 minutes to get from downtown to the suburbs, where we live, and then it takes at least 15 more minutes to get to the hospital. Still, as long as I don't try to match my mother's record of a 3-hour first labor, we should be good. (My mother says that if you're having a 3-hour labor, you'd know right off.)

Also, my mother-in-law spontaneously said that if I should happen to need a ride, I should just call them. It was very sweet, though I hope to avoid taking her up on it.

I always seem to run out of things to say after #5. I think I am subconsciously leaving a space for a progesterone update, except of course I have no idea what my progesterone is doing. I haven't gone into labor yet, though, so there's that.

I am surprised that I got over fretting about progesterone so quickly. I seriously don't think about it at all. Of course, I occupy my brain by fretting about kick counts and other things.

(I just deleted half a paragraph for the sake of my male readers. Summary: The "sympto" part of NFP is useful even when you're pregnant, though it might make the office staff at your OB's think you're weird. If you don't know what I mean, thank your lucky pH-balance stars.)

--- 7 ---

 I decided to start taking pictures every 2 weeks instead of every 4, so here is 26 weeks.

I look very serious, but I was just tired. I'm happy on the inside, promise. I don't know that I look that much bigger than I did at 19 or 20 weeks. I know Tad is growing, though, because my stomach and lungs have been feeling rather squished--apparently he's just growing up instead of out. Also, I think he's been having a bit of a growth spurt in the 5 days since this picture was taken, because I've been all round-ligament-pain-y and HUNGRY. That could just be my imagination, though.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!


Melanie Bettinelli said...

Random late night thoughts:

I so agree about not wanting my own clothes. Why would I want my clothes to get icky? But after a few days I do want to get OUT of the hospital johnnie. And that time has been getting shorter with each kid. (Maybe that's why they were so ready to discharge me early after Lucia? I was all dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt and my robe and walking up and down the halls.)

I don't think it matters which flavor of glucose drink you pick. Just hold your nose and gulp it down. Ugh.

We weigh the same amount.

The Sojourner said...

Random late night comments are cool. :)

Shakespeare's Cobbler said...

Glucose: Doesn't taste like chicken!

The Sojourner said...