26 weeks of the pregnant. I feel like a McMansion, but according to pictures and other people I don't look nearly as big as I feel.
Ratio of appetite vs. tolerance for food in my stomach: unbalanced
Patience for toddler shenanigans: scant
Number of Busytown Mysteries episodes I let Edwin watch this week so I could get a nap: MANY
Number of naps I was actually able to take: NONE
The weather in City B: unbearable and being a total douche
OK, I don't want to complain too much. I generally feel pretty good. Edwin is generally hilarious and fun to be around. So instead, I'll tell the story of how I cheated on my glucose tolerance test.
A little background here. At my first glucose tolerance test (when I was pregnant with Edwin), nobody told me how drinking 50 grams of glucose on an empty stomach first thing in the morning can make you feel like you're going to pass out and die. So I was a little taken aback by that, and when I mentioned feeling like I might pass out and die when my OB came into the room, she waved me off and basically said, "Well, DUH."
So this time around, I started dreading the glucose test. It was an irrational amount of dread, as in I dreaded this test more than I dread the pain of childbirth. I considered refusing it, but I didn't want to be labeled a difficult patient. I'm sure they've already flagged my file "UNSTABLE", and I just don't want to make any more trouble. So I went, and brought the BHE and Edwin with me.
First of all, it took me way longer than 5 minutes to drink that crap. I was drinking it pretty slowly, and trying to entertain Edwin at the same time. I was also sipping from a water bottle the whole time, thinking that maybe this would help me not feel so sick. After about 15 minutes, I had maybe two or three gulps of stuff left, and Edwin had to go to the potty. So I took him to the potty (wait, I forgot that I am an adult there for a second. I took him to the bathroom). While we were in there, I checked around for hidden cameras (Because I don't know, I guess part of me imagines that maybe my OB practice spies on you in the bathroom to make sure you don't cheat on your pee test or your glucose test? That's normal, right? No? OK.) and then I dumped the rest of the crap down the sink.
Then while I was sitting in the waiting room, waiting my hour to process all the delicious delicious glucose, the nurse saw my water bottle. She said, "Are you here for your glucose?" I said, "Yeah." She said, "You're not supposed to be drinking that." I said, "Oops." (Did you know that you aren't supposed to drink water? I didn't know that. Really, I didn't.)
Anyway, I didn't feel sick during the test like last time. And what this means is that I am selfish and care more about my physical comfort than I do about finding out whether I actually have gestational diabetes. Also, I passed. Because of course I did, because I threw the test. So I guess if I really do have gestational diabetes and have to push out a 10 lb baby, it will serve me right. But at least I didn't feel sick during the test.