Yesterday morning, I downed the lovely bottle of glucola syrup for my gestational diabetes test. It tasted like slightly fizzy orange soda. Then I drove to the lab to have the blood work done. I hate getting blood taken, but the procedure was over very quickly. I'll get the results at our next doctor's appointment this coming Friday.
We begin childbirth classes on Monday night! Or as Gregg says, "we're going to learn how to poop out a baby". They last for three weeks and conclude with a tour of the hospital. I'm both excited and nervous. I think I've underestimated the pain and physical toll of labor, and I'm fearing I might learn otherwise. It's good to be prepared though, right? I know that no matter how bad it could be, I'll have Gregg right there by my side the entire time supporting me. I have no doubts about his ability to be a great labor coach. He can be calm and steady while I freak out, ha ha.
I am still amazed at how well this pregnancy is going. Already two-thirds of the way through, and I've only experienced minor discomforts so far. Those of you who have already had children are thinking, "Ha. She's so naive. Just wait for months seven through nine!" Yeah, I know it will probably be a different story in the August heat & humidity, when my stomach is stretched to the max and my feet are the size of beach balls. Women who have given birth in August made no bones about how hot and miserable I'll be. Thanks, ladies.
I really can't wait to finally meet our little boy, who we've affectionately been calling "Bubba", because we haven't yet decided on a name. Next weekend we're going to get cracking on the nursery, and I know I'll spend time in there over the coming weeks daydreaming even more about what it will be like holding our son, feeding him, dressing him, and just loving him to pieces.
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