Today was the last of the monthly baby appointments. Now we get to move on to having one every two weeks. Time is flying by so stinking fast. Now when people ask me when I'm due the response is, "July! That's just around the corner!" They are right: it is just around the corner. July still feels hot and far away to me sometimes...but it's only a whopping 10 weeks away.
I wanted to be able to post something along the lines of It's a Girl! Or It's a Boy! But alas, no such confident remarks will be heading out into cyberspace. Baby Rodgers was even cooperating, but the doctor said that she wasn't confident enough to give any definite answers. Phooey. I say that it's a girl.
I had the chance to stick up for myself, though, and that's saying something for Amelia-the-People-Pleaser. I was scheduled for a glucose test, and having read about the customary procedure (fast for 12 hours, drink a glucose-concentrated beverage, wait an hour and then get tested), I was convinced that it would most likely make me sick. I eat a relatively low-sugar, high-protein diet, and I really can't go for more than 4 hours without eating (even at night), so the thought of shocking my already whacked out system with a truck-load of sugar seemed like a bad idea. Mom helped me determine the alternate course which consists of consuming a large number of calories an hour before the test. (Why doesn't everyone do this?) Having cleared this with the doctor last week, I thought I was good to go.
This morning I had a large breakfast with more calories than I care to think about, and then we tootled off to the appointment. After the routine stuff was completed, I was frustrated to see a lab worker come in with a bottle of the high-glucose junk. After I mentioned that I had discussed the alternative with my doctor, the lab worker insisted that "we only do it this way because there is no way we can know how much you have eaten." I repeated as firmly as I could that I had already discussed this with the doctor and when the lab worker continued to push drinking the glucose, I asked if I could talk with the doctor. Confusion therefore ensued. I heard the doctor explain the alternative process to the lab worker. A nurse came in and said that I needed to go eat something and then come back in an hour for the test. I said that I had already eaten an hour before, as instructed, and was ready to take the test. The nurse left. I heard more discussion and then the original lab worker came back and finally drew blood. She told me that they used to have people eat 27 jelly beans to raise their glucose and that just made them sick.
It was pretty dumb. Steve said that you really have to know what you want before you go to these appointments. I replied that this was the reason why I was reading as much as I am about the subject. This is also why we are making a birth plan. So much confusion over something so simple just isn't necessary, and confusion over bigger issues is a scary prospect.
In other baby news, Steve and I went to a baby store in downtown Kearney last Saturday. I can understand why people go nuts decorating a nursery. I mean, how fun is that? Unfortunately, we would have to turn our entire bedroom into a nursery, and since the Baby will be spending most of its time with me in the living room or with us in bed, I don't think that revamping all of the bedroom decor will be necessary. But it looks like a fun excuse to get crafty. Ah, domesticity, how I love thee!