One of my friends from high school had a baby recently and even more recently brought the baby to visit my family. Matthew was NOT PLEASED by the fact that Mom tried to hold this tiny interloper, but he was fascinated by the fact that she also drinks out of a bottle and now he goes around pointing to babies or pictures of babies or things associated with babies and says "BEEBEE" enthusiastically. Hopefully this fascination will last until December. Though he probably still won't be happy if Mom tries to hold my baby.
Teresa continues to be extremely enthusiastic about the whole baby thing. She is learning about breastfeeding and c-sections (Her: "That sounds easier." All you readers who have had c-sections can laugh now.) and who knows what else. She also drew me this picture:
I did find out last time I visited, however, that she has gone back to petitioning Mom for a baby sister. Apparently she figures Scott and I will be dead ends on the girl-baby-producing front for a few years, but Mom and Dad don't have any little babies around anymore and therefore obviously need another one.
I had my 28-week appointment on Tuesday. I didn't have to wait very long, so remind me later that 2:45 actually isn't a bad time at this practice. Anyway, I weighed 201 pounds (4 pounds up from 25 weeks, 18 pounds up overall), and my blood pressure was 122/something, which earned me praise from the MA. Tad was head-down again during the whole fundal-height-measuring, doppler-using part of the appointment. Dr. B found this unremarkable, as he should, considering Tad has plenty of time to turn around again (and again and again). He did remark, "This baby will not stop moving" in an amused sort of tone while using the doppler. Me: "Well, I did just drink 50 grams of glucose."
Oh, and I did my glucose screen. Drank the stuff at 2:00, went in, got my blood drawn in the middle of chatting with the doctor (you have to draw it precisely one hour after drinking the stuff). The fruit punch flavor isn't actually that gag-worthy; it just tastes like liquefied Jolly Ranchers. Also, I was supposed to get a call back "right away" if my results were abnormal, and it's been 3 days and I haven't gotten any calls. Dare we hope that my pancreas pulled off a dark horse victory?
My next appointment isn't until 32 weeks. I thought there would be one at 30, but apparently not. Oh well; it's not like I'm not busy enough.
Things I have done this week on the getting-ready-for baby front:
A. Emailed a lady in my hometown (where my parents still live) to ask if she still makes ring slings. She does, and for $30 plus the price of fabric I can have my very own custom sling. That's a lot cheaper than the name-brand ones. Plus, no risk of ugly colors. (I am supposed to pick my own fabric and get it to her and then she'll make it and get it back to me. I volunteered my mother as a courier.)
B. Got proof of pregnancy (a note scribbled on a prescription pad by my OB) so I can submit paperwork to the county department of Job and Family Services so the baby can have health insurance. I could write a long and angsty post about public assistance, but I won't, because I don't feel like it. I'll just stew quietly.
C. Tried to get pre-registration paperwork so I can schedule a hospital tour and pre-register and all that fun stuff. But the packet I got at the OB's doesn't actually have any paperwork in it. It has an envelope for mailing the paperwork, and it has a sheet of paper listing all the other sheets of paper that should be in there, but lo, they are not. If I call them to ask after my glucose screen I might ask about that as well; otherwise it can wait until my next appointment. (They have hospital tours several times a week, so I'm not too worried about squeezing one in before the baby comes.)
D. Wrote a rough draft of a birth plan that I'm actually halfway satisfied with. I still have lots of questions, though, and I might want to edit down the 2.5-page single-spaced document so nobody's eyes glaze over.
(First-timer with control issues, remember?)
We also have a car seat now, courtesy of my parents. My mother has really been embracing the whole first-time-grandma thing. I mean, I really didn't expect her to do much more than dig out Matthew's hand-me-downs and call it a day. But in addition to digging out an abundance of said hand-me-downs, she bought all my maternity clothes, planned a baby shower (invitations went out this week), and went yard saling for baby clothes. I think Tad is up to 5 sleepers and about 6 onesies now. I know that doesn't sound like much, but he isn't even going to be born for another 3 months and cute sleepers seem to just sort of magnetically attach themselves to babies, so I am not worried about his clothing situation. I have been trying to get Mom to redirect people's giving impulses into diapers, lest this poor child spend his life sitting bare-bottomed on a towel.
(No, we're not really that poor. It's a joke.)
Tad continues to be an unusually active baby, which is good because I continue to be an unusually anxious mother. Of late he has been moving hard enough to make my whole belly twitch dramatically on a pretty much daily basis. (He's been doing that occasionally for weeks.) Unfortunately, he rarely does this when his father is around. Maybe he finds Scott's voice soothing and sleep-inducing. That wouldn't be a bad thing come December, would it?
When I went to therapy last week, the receptionist commented, "Not long now, right?" I said, "Not until December" and made small talk and it was non-awkward, but seriously? If people are going to be asking me that for three months straight I'm going to slowly go bonkers.
Then a few days later the MA at my OB's office commented just before she weighed me that I had "really popped out" since my last appointment. "So I hear," I said, a little wearily, and the conversation trailed off. You'd think she'd know better than that, working in an OB office and everything, but maybe I'm just an unusually sensitive pregnant woman.
Anyway, you can judge for yourself, based on this picture from Sunday (28+1):
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