37 weeks, 1 day

A bullet style post is always a good way to overcome the not-posting inertia. I think the bullets relieve me of any sense that I must make the whole thing hang together into some sort of coherant narrative. Either that or years of staring at contentless Powerpoints has reminded me that, if you have bullets, you don't need meaning.

So:

• 37 weeks rocks. I know there are no guarantees, but having made it this far puts a spring in my not-so-nimble-anymore step.
  
  
• Being an insulin-dependent diabetic (that's "A2 GDM" as it's fondly known at the hospital) I now get twice-weekly non-stress tests and once weekly sonograms. This is a beautiful thing for the paranoid pregnant lady. I mean, throughout this whole pregnancy I've been convinced that our fetus is in terrible terrible danger and concerned about the fact that no one else besides me is panicking, probably because of some meaningless datapoints like "all test results are normal" and "low risk". I'm not happy that I'm high-risk now, but I must say it more closely matches my feelings. Now that the doctors are watching with some greater sense of urgency, I'm about 1000% more relaxed.
  
  
• I am, officially, medically, scientifically speaking, huge. As in measuring 42 weeks, 5 weeks ahead. Strangely, Little Guy is measuring absolutely normal; 65th percentile for weight, everything else measuring within a week. My amniotic fluid is normal. I asked the OB why I was so huge, then. She shrugged and said "some women just get huge." OK then!
  
  
• Since I am freaking huge, everyone naturally assumes I am about to give birth any minute. At the hospital yesterday *five* people commented as I was walking down the hall. Samples:
  
  Stranger: Today must be the day!
  Me: Nope, three weeks left.
  
  Stranger: Not much longer now!
  Me: Yes, three weeks isn't long.
  
  (as I trundle slowly down the long hall)
  Stranger: You gonna make it?
  Me: Just rollin' along.
  
  And, the oddest:
  Stranger: Lucky you (in a downbeat, rueful tone)
  Me: pause as I parse this What?
  Stranger: I said, lucky you.
  Me: finally figure out that she's being sarcastic It could be a lot worse!
  Afterwards I wished I'd just sincerely said "Thank you. I do feel lucky." But I also didn't want to make her feel bad when she was just being sociable. I don't know. If anyone else says that, I'll be prepared.
  
  
• I'm positive for Group B Strep. This is not uncommon, and all it means for the delivery is that I will have IV antibiotics. I still wish I weren't. I was hoping to avoid the IV and go for a heplock, but that won't be possible.
  

29 weeks: an upbeat post about diabetes

Things I like about having gestational diabetes:

1. The snacking. Seriously, I love to eat. I am now mandated to have three snacks as well as three meals a day. For the health of my baybeeee. I always have another meal to look forward to really soon. The eating starts the minute I get up and have breakfast, and does not end until my bedtime snack. I was born for this task.
   
   
2. My glucometer. I love gadgets. I love pink gadgets. I love things that monitor other things.
   
   
3. The ritual of checking my blood sugar. It seems very magical. How many rituals nowadays include washing your hands, laying out your tools, and then making yourself bleed?
   
   
4. I am now of slightly more interest to my busy high-risk OB.
   
   
5. Abovementioned OB asking me how I was coping with the insulin shots made me feel pretty butch, since they are absolutely nothing compared to three rounds of IVF with injected IM progesterone.
   
   
6. I had ultrasounds at 12 and 18 weeks; I wasn't supposed to get another until 36 weeks; on the strength of the GD, I think I've managed to talk my way into one at 32 weeks. We are quite wild to see him again.
   

There are other things about it that are not so fun, but I'll leave those as an exercise for the reader.

In other news, 29 freaking weeks! I am so glad to be here, at a place where the little guy has a decent chance of coming out okay even if he's evicted early. My goddaughter and her twin brother were born at 27w3d and, although they came through amazingly well, gave all of us (but especially their parents) some terrifying times. Every day that passes is a gift.