Never met a sugar I didn’t like

Yesterday was my 28 week appointment. I’m in my third trimester now (sidenote: HOLY SHIT) which means after this appointment I’ll start going to the midwives every two weeks. On the docket for yesterday’s visit: pee in cup, stand on irritatingly accurate scale, listen to baby’s heartbeat, check iron levels, take glucose tolerance test.

And can I just say – the glucose intolerance test is my kind of test. Directions: Drink a bottle of fizzy Hawaiian Punch. Get blood drawn. The End. WAY easier than the MCAT. The nurses apologized profusely about the terrible taste and the fact that it was carbonated OMG and I was all, sanctioned sugar ingestion? BRING IT ON. Then I downed it, smacked my lips and asked for another.

When I got my blood drawn, the phlebotomist just went on and on about my AMAZING clotting abilities. I mean, like, went on and ON and on. I might have felt great pride about this, except that what it really meant was that though they SQUEEZED MY ARM LIKE HOLY HELL after they took my blood for the glucose test, they still had to prick my finger to get another drop of blood for the iron test. Because I am Super Clotter! Able to stop blood flow in a single bound! Can’t say I don’t have skillz.

In other news, Bug could probably perform a basic prenatal check up on any pregnant lady right about now. He’s been to all my appointments but one, and he has got that drill down. They call us back from the waiting room and he runs straight to the bathroom. “This is where you PEE IN THAT CUP, right Mom?” Then after I’ve weighed myself he says, “How many is it this time Mom?” and then after I tell him (which JUST NOW I’m realizing that I should totally lie about, WHY didn’t I think of that?) he trots off happily down the hall to our room repeating the number. Loudly.

The midwives usually put him up on my legs when we listen to the Doppler for the heartbeat and tell him which buttons to push to turn it on. Today he was holding the part not touching my belly, and as soon as we heard the whoosha whoosha of LG’s heart, he held his end up to his mouth and said “HEY BABY!” Bug to LG. 10-4. Over and out.

All in all a routine visit, which is just the kind I prefer.

If I failed my glucose test, they’ll let me know in three days. In the meantime, in my blissful ignorance I am consuming as much Häagen Dazs as possible.

Just in case.

1 comment

1 Jillian { 07.29.08 at 7:55 am }

You know, I like sugar as much as the next girl, but that horrible super-sweet orangey crap drink I had to ingest for my glucose test made me physically ill.

Glad to hear the Hawaiian Punch one was more enjoyable!

Leave a Comment