I woke up this morning disappointed. Last night, I had a dream that I had my little baby. One hour of labor and one push and voila the baby arrived! He was so tiny and so snuggly. He had a crop of dark brown hair and brown eyes and he was just perfect. When I woke up, I knew it was just a vivid dream, the little one had not arrived yet and we are still 90 days away for the due date. It is so hard because I want to speed up time to meet him, but slow down time to savor these few weeks with Henry as our one and only. The dilemma!
27 weeks is one week away from the BIG glucose test. Since Henry was so big weighing in at 9lbs 12 oz, my OB struggled to understand how such a goliath baby could come from a mom who claims she is 5’3” on a good day. My medical chart was then assigned an asterisk that said something to the extent of “risk of possible gestational diabetes.” I didn’t have GD with Henry according to my blood work, but maybe, just maybe, I was on a borderline and my giant baby was then proof of this. Or, the other possibility is that I just grow giant babies! Thinking about this test has become a second job in some respects. When I walk into the faculty room at school and see a plate piled high with double chocolate chip cookies, I pause as my extended hand hovers over the plate, “Should I eat this, will this impact my chances of GD.” Reluctantly, I walk out sans cookies. And that, that moment right there, was when I decided I needed to flip my perspective. Instead of seeing it as deprivation, “I am not allowed to eat cookies,” I needed to see it as a choice. If having a smaller more reasonably sized baby is the goal and if avoiding the daily blood draws that come with GD is a goal, then I need to start making choices to get there. It has helped a lot and I do feel much more at ease within my skin and more importantly in that faculty room!
27 weeks also marks the big shift to recognizing that there are some things I cannot do anymore. Putting on my boots and taking them off is one of those things. Of course, this pregnancy falls right in boot season too. David has been a super hubs though and helps me get into my shoes and out of them at night so that I am not stuck sleeping in my shoes for the next three months. The beginning of the many indignities to come, hahaha. Carrying Henry up and down to the car is yet another cannot. I can if I have to, and I definitely still do, but my body much prefers someone else carrying him down to the car. My knees ache just enough to make being Henry’s personal sherpa uncomfortable. But when he calls out “mama hold me,” I say screw the knees and grab that little man because this is all too temporary. With 90 days to go, our family will grow before I can blink, so sometimes you just got to pause time and carry your toddler boy down the stairs and give your hubs that extra kiss.