33 Weeks Tomorrow

You’ve heard it said that when it rains it pours, usually said in a negative tone as if pouring rain is always a tragedy of some sort. I don’t know about that, but I do feel drenched in this whole Gestational Diabetes* business. It’s all consuming, a pouring rain so to speak. The fun part is, everyone says “Don’t stress about it! It will just make things worse!” Right or wrong, this translates to an 8 month pregnant woman as, “Quit stressing! You are hurting your baby! This is all your fault!”

*I started to write “GD business” as the medical community is apt to do but thought better of it.

And yes, I know it’s not technically my fault. Lots of doctors and websites and friends and family have drilled this into my brain. But here’s the thing, this baby is living inside of me. And at the moment, my body (MY body) is warring against him. With that war comes guilt, no matter the source. Every time I jam a friendly needle into one of my sore fingers and the number comes back too high, I feel as if I’ve let Harry down. Let Ryan down. Let everyone down.

I’m not saying all of this to generate some sort of pity party, just to say this is tough. I’m trying to deal. We went to see the specialist on Friday to have an ultrasound and a consultation about The Sugars. (I think when all of this is over I may just stay mad at sugar indefinitely.) Right now Harry’s head and torso are measuring three weeks ahead. I’m not sure what that means but I know it’s not considered a blessing. Then we met with the doctor who said “if The Sugars don’t come down, we may need to admit you to the hospital.”

Umm.

Ok.

So you see, it’s difficult to remain carefree about anything at the moment. The hospital threat makes me think:
-Oh dear, I have to get everything wrapped up at work!
-Oh dear, do we have everything we need if he comes early?
-Oh dear, we need to meet with a pediatrician!
-Oh dear, we need to get the car seat in the car!
-Oh dear, I AM ABOUT TO HAVE A TINY HUMAN COME HOME TO LIVE WITH ME. FOREVER.

This weekend Ryan played the sound of a crying baby for Minnie to get used to the sound. The louder the cries got the flatter her ears got and she looked at us as if to say – are you kidding me with that?

If you could see me right now, my ears are SO flat.