Third Trimester Trials

Sorry that I’m slow to post. My mom’s really lame and kinda dense. I’ve been kicking a lot more lately, but she doesn’t seem to get that I’m trying to send a message.

“I’m hungry.”

“I want you to write a post on the blog, since I can’t type yet.”

“Yes, I do like that name for me.”

“NO, please don’t name me that.”

“I just want to dance.”

It’s week 30 now, which is the third trimester and there’s about 2 months left to go. A few weeks ago, mom took the super long glucose test. Was over by 5 points on the 3rd vat of blood they drew, and the other vats tested well under the suggested baseline. I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry, so they’ve sent mom to another doctor as well for diabetic counseling. Even though they aren’t officially diagnosing her with gestational diabetes. Mom’s been very cranky about it all. She’s had to prick her finger 7 times a day and record the glucose numbers, which have been normal (except for that time when she downed a sky-high stack of chocolate chip pancakes with syrup, duh). And she’s a total spaz with the glucose monitoring machine, making a bloody mess with all the pricking. Getting better, as she’s realizing the thumb is a good juicy source of blood. Index finger — not so much. Went back to the diabetes doctor yesterday, and have been granted parole — only need to do 4 pricks a day instead of 7. Good. That will help make mom look less like a drug addict as she lays all the needles and machines out on her office desk. Realizing mom’s been a big baby about all this, but I do appreciate it! Well, at least we’ll score a few extra ultrasounds out of it. Let mom and dad get a few extra peeps of me before I pop out and start exercising my vocal cords.

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