30 Weeks

I guess what we have for the time being is a pregnancy blog. It won't be for much longer, though. Today I hit the 30-week mark. Morning sickness is ba-ack, but other than that, things are fine. I hope I have the good fortune to be entertained by this kind of stunning cuteness three years from now:

And now for some adventures in glucose tolerance...

I had that terrible 3-hour glucose test yesterday. It could have been worse -- for example, I could have thrown up the glucose drink and had to drink another one -- but it was still pretty bad. Worst parts:

1. Not being allowed to drink water for 12 hours. Oh, that was agony.

2. The crying jag. Let me explain: after they drew the first, baseline blood sample and I chugged that awful drink, I cried for about an hour and a half straight.

This was because Jonathan and I went up to the nursery viewing area and looked at the babies, who were all asleep except for one. I first teared up because they were so adorable, and then kept crying because I was noticing the subtle movements of their little knees and elbows through the receiving blankets they were all swaddled in and how they kind of resembled the little movements I see poking out of my stomach all the time. THEN, I cried even harder because the babies weren't with their mothers, and I was sympathizing with the mothers because I assumed they must have been miserable not having their babies with them. It was so embarrassing!

The lab nurse who took the second blood sample was great, though; she didn't make a big deal about my weepies and just explained that the mothers can have the babies in the rooms with them as much as they want, and the babies are only in the nursery about two hours a day, tops. And really, it does make sense to have them in the nursery some of the time, like when the father isn't there and the mother has to take a shower or sleep or something. She added that lots of women have crying jags during the 3-hour GTT and that she suspected it has something to do with body chemistry.

3. The needle sticks. Four sticks, all in the arm, none in the fingers. I should explain that the huge bruise from my last glucose screening test had just healed. The first three were in my left arm, but the nurse who took the last blood sample took a look at my already bruising up left arm and decided to do the right arm that time. I don't have much needle fear at all, but that was kind of a lot.