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- So we're at 26 weeks this week, which is almost to the end of the second trimester. 2/3rds of the way through. While I'm totally psyched that we're this much closer to getting to actually meet Baby Girl, I must admit that I'm a little sad to be leaving the manna from Heaven stage that is the second trimester. I mean, the second is easily the best. The first trimester was filled with nausea and fear of miscarriage and sleeping ALL THE TIME, and the third (from what I understand) will play host to being so large you're uncomfortable, and swollen feet, and random aches and pains, and the inability to ever find a comfortable sleeping position ever again. But the second? Golden, baby. That was filled with first flutters, and finding out the sex, and really getting to watch her grow. (Not to mention the return of my appetite, increased energy, and finally having enough of a baby bump to keep the maternity pants from slipping down). Still, I guess all that pales in comparison to actually getting to meet Baby Girl and hold her in my arms, so once more into the breach, I suppose.
- You'll be glad to know that Baby Girl is doing fine. She's a little over a pound to a pound and a half, and measures somewhere around 14" long (think the length of an English hothouse cucumber, only not as skinny, of course). When they last "weighed" her two weeks ago, she was a little on the small side weight-wise, but since her current studio apartment is also the same way, the doctors are not concerned. (Better to have a small baby in a small uterus than a big baby in a small uterus, I say). They'll measure her again next week to make sure she's growing at a constant rate, which is the important part.
- I'd also like to report that she's an active little thing. Always moving and turning and kicking and generally making her opinions known. She used to only kick at certain times of the day, but I feel her pretty much constantly now. The only time that she's still is when my family is around, which is funny because they all love nothing more than to run over to put their hands on my belly to feel her kick, so she's deliberately quiet then, the little stinker. After 10pm seems to be her most active times (naturally), but she has recently shown an increased interest in kicking during hockey games on TV. (Tony considers this a positive sign).
- I'm still not that large in the whole baby bump area. I mean, I measure exactly where I'm supposed to, but due to the whole long torso thing, I tend to carry more up and down than out. (The rule of thumb is that for every week along, you're supposed to measure around that in inches from the pubic bone to the top of the uterus. I'm 26 weeks, and measuring 25.5", so I'm right where I need to be). I look like I'm smuggling a small volleyball under my shirt. Shorter women at 26 weeks look to be smuggling the entire volleyball team. It all depends on how big you are as the team bus, I suppose.
- In not so awesome news, I failed my glucose test yesterday. This is the test that checks for gestational diabetes, and the way it works is they give you this sugary orange drink that takes like liquid Popsicle, and then do a blood test to make sure that you're processing the sugars the way you should. Long story short, I was supposed to be under 130, and I ended up at 179. Not so good for the whole sugar processing thing. Of course, they design that test to have a lot of false positives in order to make sure they catch all the people who really do have diabetes (I was number 10 to be tested that morning and number 4 to fail), so we won't know if I really have diabetes until next week when I take the in-depth, 4 hour, multiple-melted Popsicle and blood drawing test. (My doctor thinks I'll have at least a 75% chance of passing the second test. I don't have a history of diabetes, nor am I overweight, so he thinks I'm just one of the false positives). Just in case though, I'm eating all the sweets and candies and chocolates I want this week in case I'm not allowed to after next week. Call it sugar processing practice.
- You'll be glad to know that other than growing another human being inside me, I'm not suffering from any other bizarre pregnancy symptoms. (I had no idea there were so many weird things that went along with pregnancy! Everything from out of control acne to exploding body hair to double vision and hemorrhoids. Ewwww! If I'd known about half of this stuff beforehand, I'd have locked myself away in a nunnery.) But you'll be glad to know that NONE of that stuff appears to be happening to me. In fact, I seem to be growing less body hair than before. (I tell you this not as a TMI, but completely in the spirit of "neener-neener, I can now go twice as long between shaving". You're welcome). In what I can only assume is a gift from the angels, my leg hair has appeared to have taken a long winter vacation. I mean, it still grows, but that growth just seemed to...slow down some, you know? Like baby-growing and hair growing required the same ingredients, and the baby-growing part snuck in and cleaned out the shelves before my personal body stock boys could restock. Which, you know, I am TOTALLY okay with. Especially since it's gotten a little hard to reach my legs anyway. But who knew that Baby Girl is my own personal internal version of Nair? Chalk one up for the kiddo.
So that's that. I am officially 152 lbs of lean, mean, baby-growing machine. With the exception of that tiny little glucose test failing incident, we are kicking butt and taking names on this whole pregnancy thing. Bring it on, third trimester!
Edited to add: You'll be happy to know that I passed the 3 hour glucose test with flying colors. Four blood draws and 4 passes. I celebrated with a pan of rice krispie treats.
