I am still pregnant. I know I already said that in my last post, but people keep asking. I have not gone off and stealthily had a premature baby and not told anyone. Although I did have that exact dream.
I dreamt that I woke up with vague back pain, but instead of waking Rob with the vicious kicking and flailing routine I call "getting out of bed in the 3rd trimester," I very quietly slipped from bed to deal with my pain in the privacy of my kitchen.
(That's how you know it was dream right there. I wake up about 97 times a night and I rarely suffer in silence. I am on the fast track to sainthood, people.)
While being very stalwart and suffering in the kitchen, my water broke and I calmly give birth to a little boy, who was about 7 inches long, but completely perfect and the picture of health.
Since we didn't have anything ready for his arrival, I brought him upstairs and put him in my closet. Naturally. That's where everything else in this house seems to go.
Then I went back to bed, and when Rob and I woke up in the morning, I showed him our new baby in the closet. Who had slept through the night and was now beatifically sucking his thumb.
So many hormones and wishes went into the production of that dream. And also a not inconsiderable amount of chocolate.
I know this certifies me as a dork, but Rob calls the baby Septimus Prime and I think it's easily the best fetal name I've heard. Beats anything we ever called the other kids in utero.
Francie says we should just run with it and name the baby Septimus or Septima for real. If we lived in ancient Rome, I might just go with it.
I am happy to report that I passed my 3 hour glucose test! I don't think I've felt this happy to pass a test since I got my driver's license.
The test is not very pleasant, but there is something nice about being able to sit in one place and read for 3 hours without having to help someone in the bathroom, make food, wipe up, or break up a fight. Even if the price for that is getting your blood drawn five times in a morning.
Ever the optimist, I was sure that I had failed the test before I even got to take it. My finger stick reading for my fasting blood sugar was over the limit to even administer the test, so they had to draw my blood and send it to the lab just in case the monitor was wrong.
Turns out that pesky monitor was off by 20 points! I went on to pass the test with no problems, other than the regular carping from the phlebotomists that I have nearly non-existent veins. Seeing as how I'm walking around all day, every day, I'm pretty sure they're in there doing their thing.
Colleen's midwife must be right about pre-gaming a sugar load to get my pancreas ready, because I was none too careful about my sugar consumption in the weeks before the test.
Rest assured that I congratulated my pancreas (and, Rob tells me, don't forget my placenta) with a nice, protein-rich lunch. With a peanut butter cup chaser.
In an effort to find something to bide my time until I can get back to The Abbey, I've started watching "Call the Midwife" on the PBS.org.
I'd seen it recommended here and there, so I thought I'd check it out, but when I saw Barbara mention it, I knew I'd made a good choice (she always picks out good stuff to watch/read).
As you may have guessed from the title, it's about a group of midwives in East London in the early 1950s. The show is very good, but as I told Barbara, there are a few scenes which gave me pause at 36 weeks pregnant.
All I can say is "glass enema tube." *shudder*
I have been doing 99.9% of my Christmas shopping online this year and I love it so much. I think I've been to a big box store once so far, and that was for some cute, cheap Christmas wrap/gift tags.
The only downside (for me) is that my usual evening blogging time has been spent surfing the web in search of great deals and unique, homemade goods.
If you are heavily pregnant, agoraphobic, and/or loathe to face your fellow man this time of year, get yourself to the computer. Just watch the carpal tunnel.
Speaking of Christmas, does anyone else find that each year there is at least one kid who is impossibly easy to shop for?
Last year it was Sally and this year it is Mopsy. It seems like everywhere I look I can find something cute that I know Mopsy would love. I have to be very careful with the budget, especially with the easy clicky-clicking of internet shopping.
|My little Mopsy on her patron saint's feast day.|
But look at that face, would you? Mwah, love her!
There is no seventh take, due to advanced pregnancy and lameness. Sitting at the computer for too long makes my hips scream in pain, so I'm bugging out, my friends. Have a happy weekend - catch you later, lovelies!