As you might assume from the title, I had my 34-week appointment on Thursday. There is really nothing to report, but I am going to update you all anyway because I can.
First off, I arrived right as Dr. B had to run over to the hospital for a delivery. The office staff were all sorts of apologetic as patients quietly stacked up in the waiting room over the course of the next hour and a half. Fortunately, they did take us back one by one for our pre-appointment stuff before sending us back to the waiting room to wait some more. (I say fortunately because I come prepared for the whole urine sample part of the appointment, and I don't think it would end well if I had to wait an hour or more longer than I expected for that.)
I weighed 211, so 5 pounds in 2 weeks. Eep. I got nothing but crickets in response to that, though, perhaps because my blood pressure was better than usual. (118/something.)
Anyway, Dr. B finally got back and I got my 3 minutes of, "Here's the baby's head, here's his bottom, here's his heartbeat, any questions?" Tad is still head down but floaty, and kicked Dr. B when he was feeling around for his bottom, and had a heart rate in the high 150s, as he often does.
We did actually talk about some stuff, though I didn't whip out my giant birth plan o' doom. (There were LOTS of people in the waiting room, and I'm sure they all wanted to go home too. Plus it was time for my nap.) And Dr. B warned me that I get my Group B strep test next time. (Pardon me if I don't leap for joy at the prospect; I'm rather large and cumbersome at the moment.) He also said that he does offer to do cervical checks starting at 36 weeks but he doesn't really find them useful. Me: "Yeah, what are you going to tell me? 'You're going to have a baby sometime in the next 6 weeks.' I already knew that." And he agreed that it's not good to read too much into anything. So we had a little meeting of the minds over that topic. I kind of like him, though he talks really fast even when he's not running 90 minutes behind. (I was never good at keeping up with fast-talking people, and then I married a slow talker and became a hermit, so now anybody who talks faster than Scott does--which is everybody--seems rather frantic to me. Actual fast talkers are almost impossible.)
We got a crib this week! Well, my uncle got it for us and it showed up on our doorstep. I have some awesome relatives.
Conveniently, the day it showed up was the day I felt compelled to rearrange the bedroom so that there would be space for a crib. So now the box is lying on its side on the floor, with the box o' crib mattress on top of it, and then some other baby things on top of that.
I really want to make Scott set it up tomorrow, but we've had a busy week and we're going to have a really busy day on Sunday, so I should probably give him a break. Of course, with all these nesting urges I've been getting, what's likely to happen is that I'll try to start setting it up on my own while he's at work or something and he'll come home and have to do most of it because I'll realize it's too heavy for me right around the time I have little screws all over our bedroom floor.
Anyway, I'm kind of excited.
With the advent of the crib, Tad now has three of the four things on my mental List of Absolutely Essential Things. The four things: Carseat, crib, diapers, milk. Of course, the carseat is sitting on our dining room floor, the crib is unassembled, and the milk is not actually here yet as far as I can tell, but we're close enough on all those things.
On the diaper front, I do have two cloth diapers and about 30 wipes, but two diapers do not a stash make. I'll have to get budget approval to buy a bunch more sometime soon, and maybe get a package of disposables because everybody says you don't want meconium on your cloth diapers. (My mother can probably attest to this; apparently I ruined her favorite nightgown right after I was born. I claim no responsibility; I was a baby and by the time you're 23 and having your second child you should know better than to wear your favorite nightgown while giving birth.)
Also, Tad has a LOT of clothes. See?
(From left: Bucket with hats and socks and things, 3-6 month clothes, 0-3 month clothes, sleep sacks, bunting.) It actually doesn't look like very many, but that's only part of his collection (I'm still working on washing stuff) and he keeps getting more things. My mother has been taking first-time grandmotherhood very seriously and buying all the clothes she can get her hands on. I only need a few odds and ends in 0-3 months (which I will purchase myself as soon as I have time to wander up to Carter's again), so I suggested that she could buy him some 3-6 month stuff and she accordingly got a big pile of things at the thrift store the other day. Assuming they're true to size he should now be set in the 3-6 month category. And I even have a few things in 6-9 months, though I'm keeping the tags on those for the time being. (Cotton sleepers and onesies never really go out of season; I'm mostly leaving them that way because I have enough baby laundry to wash already.)
My body clock seems to think that the baby is here already or that we need to practice or something, because I have seriously not been sleeping. Last night I actually kept track (because you have to do something when you're not sleeping). I went to bed at 11:00 and woke up at 1:00, 2:30, 4:30, and 5:30 before my alarm went off at 6:45.
Seriously, body, I have nesting to do. We can practice the lack-of-sleep thing later.
Another thing slowing my nesting roll is this silly foot-swelling problem I've been having the last few weeks. It wouldn't bug me except that my feet always swell lopsidedly and then I freak out about DVTs and my anxious brain just doesn't need that. (I actually called Dr. B at about 8 p.m. the first time I noticed my right foot being decidedly puffier than my left. He told me not to worry about it unless I had other symptoms, and it hasn't killed me yet, so he was probably right.)
Anyway, driving around and being on my feet a lot both seem to trigger the problem, so I spend an irritating amount of time sitting with my feet up. And lying in bed not sleeping.
Scott has managed to figure out how he's going to handle work around the time the baby is born. I am especially pleased by this because he worked it out entirely on his own. I had not even thought that far ahead, but about a month ago he mentioned that he had been thinking it over and did it sound like a good idea for him to do thus-and-so. I said yes and then got busy again. I was just thinking that I might want to ask him how that was going yesterday, but I did not. Then today he told me that his manager had approved of the plan (and said congratulations) so he just needed to do a couple more things and we should be all set. And I did not have to remind him at all!
My husband is pretty awesome.
And here's a picture of Tad and me at 34 weeks. I couldn't wear my preferred shirt because our sink got clogged and I managed to get dirty sink-water all over my only clean skirt. Hence, wearing a dress to Mass and for my picture. (I wore a white sweater over it for Mass to make it look less casual.)
The nice thing about having such a big belly is that I'm pretty sure it makes my backside look smaller. (If you've seen me in person and disagree, just don't say anything, okay? :))
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