I had my 32-week appointment on Tuesday. I am up to every-two-week appointments now, so you all will get subjected to my navel-gazing twice as often! Aren't you happy?
(One of my least favorite things about pregnancy is that I have to pay so much attention to things going on in my body. Really, it's tough for us brain-in-a-jar types. So I force you all to suffer through it as well to make myself feel better.)
Anyway, not actually much to report. I weighed 206 pounds--5 pounds in 4 weeks/23 pounds overall. Which means that I'm totally going to overshoot the 15-25 pounds that fat ladies are "allowed" to gain, but nobody at my doctor's office cares so I don't either. I'd like to stay under 222 just because that's what I weighed back when I got my PCOS diagnosis and started on this crazy taking-care-of-my-body train, and I'd rather not start over totally from scratch after the baby is born, but whatever. Breastfeeding burns calories, right? (Of course, I bet that only works if you don't eat everything that doesn't bite back...)
Also, Dr. B thinks that my anemia is borderline enough that I don't need to bother with iron supplements, so YAY. I am still going to put spinach in weird things, though.
Also also, Tad seems about the same as usual. It's getting easier to find his heartbeat, I think because he's too big to run away and hide now. It was in the 160's this time--got almost up to 170 when Dr. B was rubbing his head. Dr. B claimed that the increased heart rate means he liked it, but I kind of wonder if he wasn't just annoyed. I'd be annoyed if random strangers were rubbing me on the head.
Also, Tad is head-down again/still. (Dr. B was rubbing his head to determine position, not just for funsies.) I wonder if that actually means something at this point. There was something else about how far he was into the pelvis, but I didn't quite catch that. I think it was something about how he's still all floaty but should get more engaged in the next few weeks. I find this all interesting in an academic sense but am having a hard time feeling as if it's significant to my life. I am pretty sure this baby will be in whatever position he wants to be in at any given moment, regardless of what's the norm.
And then we talked some about how hospital birth works. Dr. B explained that basically my nurse is going to do everything while I'm in labor at the hospital. (I should start doing a novena for a good nurse. Maybe to Tad's patron saint; that might be a good pick for the situation.*) I think I might have hurt his feelings a little bit because after he was done explaining I said, "So, you just show up and catch the baby, or what?" Him: "... You could think of it that way." Apparently he also fulfills a very important role of watching the monitor readout from the computer in his office.
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate having an OB around (hence my lack of homebirth plans...) but every now and then I think about how I'm paying him $3000+ to be present for only a tiny portion of the labor process. (Well, my insurance company is paying him.)
(*No, we're not naming him Gerard. Trust me that it's even better, though. Incidentally, Scott referred to Tad by his real name last night, which is something we do far less often than you might imagine, and it gave me a funny little thrill, like when you're first married and have to say "my husband.")
Fun fact: My OB's office writes you a prescription for a free breast pump even if you don't ask. Note: They don't offer to write one. They just do it and the secretary hands it to you on your way out.
(I don't plan on filling it, since I'm not going to be working. I imagine I'd find the whole situation even more presumptuous if I wasn't planning on breastfeeding at all for whatever reason.)
We actually managed to make some progress this week in potentially getting health insurance for the baby. I'd rather not talk about it because boring and frustrating and private information, but prayers for things to work out would be appreciated.
I had my baby shower on Sunday (I might write a recap later) and got a LOT of clothes. Mostly blue clothes, too. I'm not sure if that's because people like buying gendered clothes for babies or because everybody who knows me knows I really like light blue things. (Side note: I went to an actual Carter's store today and was suddenly glad to be having a boy. The girl side of the store was way too overstimulating with all the bright colors. I liked being able to stick to the soothing light blue side.)
Anyway, earlier this week I was cutting tags off of things and throwing them in the hamper, and suddenly the whole baby thing seemed much more real. I was telling a friend the other day that Tad has such a personality that I just think of him as being himself; I almost never generalize and think of him as being a baby. Plus, the whole pregnancy thing is so surreal and outside the realm of my previous experience that it doesn't really connect to "There's going to be an actual baby, who will be somewhat like every other baby ever, in this apartment."
Doing his laundry, though, made me realize that pretty soon this whole baby thing isn't going to be a surreal tangent from my normal life. It's just going to be normal life, with laundry and all the other things I totally already know how to do.
Speaking of my baby shower, this is Wiggles:
He was a random off-registry gift from one of my mother's friends and I think he needs to feature largely in Tad's baby pictures. Like those monthly pictures people sometimes do with their baby gradually dwarfing a stuffed animal?
I named him myself, by the way, in honor of marsh-wiggles from Narnia. I was going to name him Puddleglum, but he's far too cheerful looking.
And here I am at 32 weeks, after getting home from my baby shower. Everybody tells me I'm getting SO BIG, and I think they mean it to be a compliment. I'll pretend, anyway. Less than 10 weeks to go!
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