My blog reading the past couple of days has covered a seemingly endless list of New Years Resolutions, many asking about my resolutions for this year. Ha! Resolutions. This year I will be happy if I manage to safely get this baby from inside my belly to outside my belly and then appropriately feed and bathe and keep her safe for the duration of the year while at the same time not failing my classes and continuing to do the necessary work to keep a roof over our heads and our bills paid while not going insane from all the other demands on my emotional reserves, time, and energy. I think committing to anything more is a bit much.
Our last doctor appointment was a couple weeks ago. You may have heard about the freakish weather here in Seattle. Well on the day of the appointment the roads were a sheet of ice. We live 5 blocks from the office and that walk was slow and occasionally frightening because the sidewalks were just as slippery as the roads. Just putting one foot in front of the other was a challenge in grace and balance – both of which are a little short on reserves thanks to my displaced center of gravity and loosened joints (we won’t mention the general clumsiness that exists even when I’m not pregnant). Everyone keeps telling me “don’t fall down.” Uh, ya think?
The doctors appointment went well, but I had to do the glucose challenge to see if I have gestational diabetes. Gak! That is some nasty stuff you have to drink. I was an extremely high risk for that condition but, as it turns out, I don’t have gestational diabetes which is an immense relief to me. After giving up wine and unpasteurized cheeses and all the other goodies you have to give up for pregnancy, and then losing anything with any appreciable amount of fat because of the gall bladder issue, if they took away my carbs too I’d go nuts. I’m about at the end of my rope stress wise anyways – After that diagnosis you would have found me rocking under the table clinging desperately to my remaining allowed foods of celery and water while pulling my hair out.
Meanwhile, my doctor tells me I need to gain more weight.
Baby is doing very well and extremely active. She knows exactly where my bladder is, it’s her favorite spot for clog dancing. She also knows how to kick me in just the right way to make me sit straight up in bed. I’m starting to feel like a puppet. She’s not even born yet and already pulling my strings.
We live in on campus in the married housing section. Someone whose probably never had kids came up with the brilliant idea that pregnant students living in married housing must move to family housing in the third trimester. So we have to move. What day do we move? We’ll find out when it happens. We’re on a waiting list, so sometime between January 8, which is the date the school has determined that I will be in the third trimester, and April 8 when the baby is due, we will move 3 miles down the road to our new apartment. We just sit and wait for the school to assign the new apartment and give the go ahead to move. We’re in the middle of trying to get things packed up, but because we don’t know if it’s going to be a week or three months before we move, it’s hard to know what to pack. We’re packing the dishes and eating off paper plates (how very ungreen) and packing all the books that are not reference or school related, and packing my pre-pregnancy clothes, but there is still so much crap that we use every single day…
I can’t believe school starts on Monday. This break has flown by and there’s a part of me waving at the sky saying “Wait! I was supposed to get a chance to relax!” But off it goes as if I had no say whatsoever in the passage of time. In a way I’m relieved because school makes it easier to establish a routine, and routines make it easier to get things done. Also people respect your time more when school is in session. The scary thing is that the quarter ends 2 weeks before baby is due. I hope baby waits till after finals to make her grand entrance.