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Another baby update
Last week I had a blood glucose screening test, a standard procedure at 28 weeks of pregnancy to screen for gestational diabetes. I drank a bottle of this super-sweet liquid that tasted like flat orange soda, then drove down to the doctor’s office to have my blood taken one hour later. I got my results on Friday, and my levels are well within normal at 110. Anything above 140 would have gotten me sent back for an additional, lengthier test. Good job, my insulin!
We had our 30 week doctor’s appointment today. Everything looked great, nothing much to report this time around. I gained just one pound in the past two weeks, so I am right on schedule. I need to gain about five more pounds in the next 10 weeks, which I should have no difficulty doing. 🙂 Doc says he’s gaining sympathy weight along with me, but I think he looks thinner. Maybe he’s just saying that to be nice!
Have I mentioned that my eating patterns, at least as far as volume and time of day, have reversed themselves from normal? Until I got pregnant, I generally ate very small breakfasts, if any, and then a regular-size lunch and dinner. Now, though, I eat a LOT in the mornings (I now understand why Yvonne occasionally ate two breakfasts when she was pregnant), a medium sized lunch in early afternoon, and then a small dinner late in the evening.
Doc and I are used to having dinner quite late; 8 p.m. or after is normal for us. I don’t even get hungry until then, actually. We’re trying really hard to skew our dinnertimes earlier, since eating that late with a child is probably not practical or advisable, and we think that family dinnertime is important. When I was growing up, my family would usually eat dinner around 5 or 5:30. I don’t know if that was because of us kids or because my folks liked to go to bed early. Maybe both.
Right now, I do a lot of the cooking for the two of us, because I really enjoy it. I get home from work at 5:30 or 6, and unwind and talk to Doc for a while, so it’s usually at least 7 p.m. by the time I start even thinking about dinner. I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be for me to launch immediately into dinner preparations when I get home from work. It might be something that Doc wants to do (he is an excellent cook), if he’s not too exhausted from caring for Aquaman all day long.
Maybe a solution is for us to have a small, simple meal with Aquaman early in the evening, and then for us to have our “real” dinner after he’s gone to bed.
Who knows. We’ll figure it out as we go, I guess.
Since my days of sleeping till 7:30 on weekdays and later on weekends are numbered, I imagine that the shift to earlier mealtimes might occur naturally. If I’m up at 5:30 anyway, I might just eat breakfast then, which would make me hungry for lunch even before noon, and so I just might be ready for dinner as soon as I get home from work.
I have been instructed to begin doing what are called “kick counts.” You time how long it takes your kiddo to move ten times, at whatever part of the day they are most active. For me, this will be mid- to late-evening. There is no “right” or “wrong” answer. Some babies are really active, and some aren’t; it just depends on the baby. We need to get a feel for how active Aquaman normally is, so that if there is a marked decrease in movement, we will know to call the doctor.
Of course, as he grows over the next ten weeks, he’ll have less and less room to move around in my body, so his movements will cease being as distinct and sharp as they are now, anyway. We just need to be aware of his activity levels on a day to day basis.
We picked up the crib this weekend (sans the railings that turn it into a full sized bed; those are still on special order), and we also bought a dresser/changing table, a nightstand, and a kitchen table and four chairs. We got everything but the crib from an unfinished furniture store, one of two left in Texas. Unfinished furniture places were everywhere when I was growing up. I guess nobody wants raw wood furniture anymore, to stain or paint themselves. I find that kind of sad.
The salesman we worked with was a trip. When he calculated the sales tax on our purchase, Doc said “I wonder how much of that’s going to the bank bailout situation.” So Mr. Salesman sized us up, decided to take a chance, and said, “Can I just tell you how angry I am about those government motherfuckers giving $700 billion of our tax money to these private banks.” We busted out laughing and then we all had a nice long conversation about those motherfuckers in the Bush administration giving $700 billion of our hard-earned tax money to bail out the private banks. It was a refreshing conversation, to say the least.
So now we have seven pieces of furniture in our garage, waiting to be stained and painted. We have our work cut out for us for the next few weeks…