Otherwise entitled: I used to have a waist.
The Gestational Diabetes test (note: turns out I can't spell diabetes)...
Was weird.
I didn't realize I was going to take it until the nurse handed me a red solo cup with a heavy, clear mixture and ordered me to drink. Yes, I got to drink that noxious libation to healthy babies from a red solo cup. I found it amusing. My drink wasn't orange, warm, or difficult, so I chugged it like a pro, then watched the Food Network for a happy hour.
And today the doctor told me that I had passed it like a history final--aced it painlessly.
If I only had a brain...
I've taken to saying that baby man is eating my brain because baby brain is a cruel thing. I've forgotten a few assignments, and my creative writing ability is effectively nil. Unfortunately, my minor is creative writing, and my professors won't accept a detailed account of how I forced myself to stay awake, be perky, and wore lipstick to detract from my tired eyes. I think I should start a new genre of writing--today I pretended to be a functioning human.
I LOVE telling customers I'm pregnant because their eyes immediately fill with admiration and sympathy, and I would be lying if I claimed I didn't love comments about quick I can waddle walk.
Maternity clothes
I wo-manned up and bought and maternity clothes from that high priced retailer of designer clothes--Old Navy. (I know, blowing my husband's income faster than he can bring it in.)
Conclusion?
Pregnancy tank tops are amazing. I bought a couple and I wish I'd bought six or seven because they are so fabulously long. They're more like mini dresses and completely justify my obsession with leggings. (Although I don't understand the deep, scooped necklines. The Christian schoolgirl in me is a little freaked out by them.)
Pregnancy leggings....will fit much better when I'm nearing forty weeks. I took everyone's advice and bought maternity clothes in my normal size. It's probably just Old Navy, but I definitely have growing room, Right now I'm just flipping the waist over twice, so they fit correctly. I'm sure I'm going to love them, though, once the end hits and I'm in the nothing fits me but a barn phase.
Pregnancy jeans. Perhaps it's the brand, but my maternity skinny jeans are saggy and Stephen got to deal with the weirdest meltdown. My pants are toooo biggggg!!!! I have an odd suspicion that since I'm twenty two, I don't know how real pants are supposed to fit, so I think anything that doesn't cling to my quads is baggy. Still. I don't like them. I'm tentatively planning on returning them, and just dwelling in leggings and maxi skirts for the rest of this pregnancy gig.
Pregnancy jackets? Thank you, golden California sunshine. I'm still waiting for it to drop below 70 degrees in the day time.
Numbers
We are twelve weeks from due date, and I am hoping for a baby that arrives on time to later since I have a capstone to write. However, my mom pointed out that she's booked three weeks post due date for another sister's event, so baby man can't be too late.
I'm also supposed to start counting movements now, something around ten an hour. However, baby man operates on his own schedule of several karate kicks, followed by a couple flutters, and then long periods of hibernation. So, I'm going to put my English major math skills to good use. (Ie, I'll just round and average in the most un-mathematical way.)
Baby clothes sizes are really the worst things ever, and I literally have one newborn sleeper for this baby. That's it. However, I have a decent number of shirts for him once he reaches 12-24 months. So it's a start...and awkward head start, but a start.
And the comments begin...
Yesterday, a man looked shocked when I told him I was pregnant--and no, I wasn't wearing my apron. I take solace in the fact that he is a). probably oblivious and b). rounder in tummy than I am.
Striped 28 week bump
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