Archive for May, 2010


All clear on the gestational diabetes front! And the 3 hour test, 4 blood draws, all preceded by a 12-hour fast actually wasn’t that bad. For me, anyway. The kid swirled around manically with the infusion of extra sugary glucose drink (Orange Crush x 10) and then sulked for 3 days following the test. Monday through Thursday, nothing. Just an occasional flicker to let me know she was still hanging out, but refusing to make eye-contact. I don’t know if she was still upset about the fasting shock, or holding out for a constant drip of glucose, but finally, somewhere in the middle of my trip to Seattle, she started up again with full force belly punches. That’s the way we like it!

I was in Washington for business, but found the very best relaxation around the edges with a dear old friend and laid-back family. Perfect blend, actually felt like a vacation, complete with a strong dose of Ethiopian food, something I seem to never get enough of (until later that evening when the injera takes hold and my belly stretches past all previous landmarks).

We headed back home on what I vowed would be my last flight for quite some time. After the stress of my constant fierceness arising out of the usual airport jostling, I was ready to stay home for the rest of my pregnancy. I found myself staring after the elderly and people on crutches, wondering how they do it every day. An airport is the worst place to need any kind of pampering, and remind me not to sit on the aisle ever again. No matter how many times I have to excuse myself to get up and pee, it beats having canes and coats dropped on my head from the bin above.

Anyway, so we’re nearing the end of the flight, headed into the descent, and she pushes a leg up against the centerline of my belly. Stroking the protruding limb absently, I started humming. After a bit, I stopped… and she pushed back. Stroked it again, hummed some more, stopped. She pushed again. Okay, hi! Wow, I’m doing something useful! It’s a rudimentary form of semaphore, but communication nonetheless. Nice to know there’s someone in there, strong enough to weather the ups and downs so far.


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Here’s the belly, as I sit at my desk in the new place enjoying the stirring kid. Yes, it’s a bit lopsided. Apparently she likes to lean up against the right side, just under the stretching flattening scar. And the tell-tale stripe. What’s with the stripe??

Honestly she’s not quite as swirly active today – a few light paddles of the feet… or the eyebrows, hard to tell. No doubt she’s still recovering from the shock of fasting glucose yesterday, as I managed to just barely fail the short form of the test so had to return for 4 blood draws in as many hours and a double-dose of the orange crush flavored syrup. I was secretly enjoying the drink – I’d had a hankering for orange crush when I caught it idling in an old vending machine the other day. Got what I wanted. In overdose.

So hopefully I don’t have gestational diabetes. It would be weird, but proves the point that it seems to be a randomly assigned condition.

Meanwhile, I’ve been working from home, limping through the pledge drive on every single radio channel I love, and unpacking around the edges. Slowly. There seems to be a direct correlation between number of boxes in my midst and the degree of misery I’m capable of. So I thought, hey, I’ll visit a new mom/pending mom support group. I’m supposed to make friends anyway, so they say. Got in the car, got within 3 blocks of the venue, stoplight. There, in my rear view mirror, I recognized a brash young mom I met at a single mom’s potluck a couple months ago. She was one of several who mostly discussed custody and divorce and annoying ex-husbands. Needless to say, the realm of single moms needs a more finely-toothed comb. Those of us doing this by choice couldn’t be less interested in discussing disappointing men. And there she was, in my rear view mirror, forecasting 90 alienating minutes ahead. I kept going.

To Home Depot, picked up 4 of their cheapest 5-gallon pots, snagged a huge bag of organic soil at the local garden spot (no, I didn’t carry it myself – decanted from the trunk) and spent an hour transplanting heirloom tomato seedlings (two pineapple, two green zebras, if you’re into that sort of thing). And that there is what I call a support group.

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I’m not feeling it yet, but apparently I’ve made my way into the less frantic month of May. Surrounded by too much stuff, service providers, and a sense of overwhelm that supposes this will never feel like home.

I don’t know if it’s a strong power of suggestion, but yes, this third trimester is exhausting. I’m suddenly droopy and unable to pick up much of anything. Frankly I think I’d be feeling that way regardless, after a month of packing, dragging stuff over to the new place in small batches, climbing 15 steps repeatedly with loads I’d considered light enough to carry until a shooting pain developed in my lower back/upper butt. Oh, and then getting on a plane to headquarters to deliver (twice) a half-day presentation of 5 months of research, flying back, packing those loose ends that seem to exponentially reproduce at the same speed it takes to gather them up, cleaning the old place, and moving. In a day with the help of one most industrious friend. Of course cats kept me up most of last night with their fascination and consternation. Let’s just pretend this is all good conditioning for mom-hood, only without the wondrous kid.

She is, however, making herself known. Stronger all the time, she bumped the AT&T contract out of my hand this morning. She seems to prefer hanging out on the right side, though kicks and punches radiate all over. Sometimes she stretches from left to right edge, demonstrating that she is indeed the length of an English Cucumber this week. On the plane I wondered if she was stomping on my bladder, or if those were the fabled Braxton Hicks contractions, or if it was just my travel-weary body whining about airport concessions. Regardless, this distracting fledgling is getting my attention and it’s so very reassuring to feel her daily exercise.

I should take a picture of myself. I suddenly feel huge.

3 months to go!

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