cake or death

My OB appointment on Monday got off to a rough start. First, I was informed upon arrival that I would be having my one-hour glucose screen. Surprise! Unfortunately, I'd scarfed down a piece of leftover shower cake immediately before leaving my house. I asked if having eaten cake half an hour earlier would skew the results and the nurse confirmed that it would, so no glucose screen for me. I apologized even though I wasn't sorry. I don't know about you, but I am of the opinion that if they want me to take a test that requires that I don't eat for two hours first, they should notify me of that more than 10 minutes prior to the test. I guess I'm just a pain like that. At least now I have something to look forward to at my next appointment. Ha!

Then came the lovely weigh-in. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the nurse fidgeted with the sliders on the scale - not too bad. Not great, but not too bad, especially considering I was recently on a week-long business trip during which I ate out for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. I'd lost all portion perspective by the time I got home. I stepped off the scale. The nurse began to write my weight in my chart, then paused and said: "I think I got your weight wrong. There's no way you gained that much in a month. You couldn't have eaten that much cake - ha ha! Hop back up there for me." So I did, and she re-weighed me, and it was exactly the same as it was the first time. Yeowch. She did not apologize. The offensive monthly gain? 7 pounds. Maybe I'm crazy but that doesn't seem too out there to me. I mean, as I said before - it's not great - but worth putting a hormonal pregnant lady through that whole get-back-on-the-scale routine? I think not!

The rest of my appointment (read: after the nurse left the room) went pretty well. The baby's heartbeat was in the 140s and I'm measuring one week ahead. The NP (like everyone I pass on the street these days, it seems) said I look even farther ahead than that but explained it the same way M and I have: Ridiculously short waist = no where to go but out. I talked to her about whether or not I'll have the freedom to move around and eat during labor (yes and a lukewarm 'not really but you won't feel like it'), whether I can have access to a birthing tub during contractions and/or pushing (yes), and whether they will require an IV and/or constant monitoring (no and no). She reassured me that my OB is well-known for allowing laboring moms to do pretty much whatever they want, as long as they and the baby are safe. I knew this and it's why I picked the doctor I did, but it's always good to hear it again.

I'm one for two on the tasks I promised myself I would complete by the end of the week, come hell or high water. We are successfully registered for daycare and our hefty deposit has been paid, but we have not yet registered for hypno.birthing classes. I'm kind of intimidated to make that call because (1) I don't want to hear how much the classes are going to cost (I believe they're around $300 - great timing for that kind of expense, huh?) and (2) I have no idea when we will squeeze them in around the holidays. That said, the longer we wait, the more precious practice time we are losing. Guess I'd better make the call tomorrow. Blech.

Next up: 24-week belly pic and case notes from two incidents of Acute-Onset Pregnancy Brain.