28 weeks and slacking...

So I'm at that 7 month mark...just passed it. The only thing I can really complain is my bra size (I fear if I grow one more cup size, I might have to find a whole 'nother website to buy bras from)...oh, and it's starting to get harder to WALK. For pete's sake, I climb 3 stairs and I feel like I've run a marathon. I haven't learned to slow down so when I go see a person at work, I'm out of breath when I get there. "Are you okay?" I always get that. Me..."Yes, just pregnant..." It's nice to know all my vital organs are jammed up in my rib cage.  I'm thankful though, that it's getting cooler. Well, I guess I can jump straight to it's finally nice and cold during the day. Feels good. It's 36 degrees, I'm in capris, flip flops, and a t-shirt. People actually ask me if I'm cold. Would I wear that if I were cold? Does everyone forget I'm a walking incubator?

Doctor's appointments...I don't think I've seen a doctor (or been in a hospital) so much as I have in the last 7 months and it increases to twice a month now. Ooooohhh, goody. I get to pee in a cup semi-monthly. The only thing that excites me about this is me getting into work by 10am (also means I get to sleep in a bit).

Baby moves like crazy, ESPECIALLY at 3am. Nice little wake up call I could use about 3 hours later.

This last doctor's appointment was slightly traumatic. I had to do that glucose test. And all you know that I'm hypoglycemic. You take my breakfast away from me I'll be puking in no time. So I downed that sad excuse for an orange drink at 7:15 am (before we left for the appointment) as instructed. Get to the office, they call me back, the nurse weighs me. I SEE I have gained 11lbs. That's all fine and dandy. She takes my blood pressure, Ryan asks me how much I weigh, I look at the chart and apparently she has me down for gaining 20lbs. You're kidding. 20lbs in a month. Panic sets in. We get to my little room and she forgot to do the blood test! Well, darn, she has to run out and get her stuff. Meanwhile, Ryan and I discuss the fact that my weight gain must clearly be a mistake. We must ask for a re-weigh...we need a do-over! She returns, pokes my finger, applies pressure for what seems like ages. Scurries off, returns with the results telling me I will have to return to do the 3 hour fasting/glucose test. I'm sorry, are you saying there's a chance I'm diabetic??? Not only has this nurse added 10lbs to my weight gain but she wants me to starve myself and shove containers of orange sugar drink down my throat. I realize I'm getting hot and sweaty. I start looking for a place to puke. Run to the bathroom, proceed to dry heave for about 5 minutes (in the midst of crying) before composing myself and returning to my room where I grab a granola bar from purse and gobble the stupid thing down so I won't have to hang over a toilet any longer. My DOCTOR comes into our room to inform us of GREAT news. I had passed the dumb glucose test. I was borderline so she considered it passing (yay!!!) plus she didn't think I'd make it through the fasting of the 3 hour glucose test (someone with common sense!).  Then she brings up the weight gain...Ryan and I tell her our version of the story, she requests a do-over and all is right with the world once again. (HOW do you mis-weigh someone? The last person you'd want to weigh incorrectly is a pregnant person. I have a complex AS IT IS. I don't need someone messing with my head about my body weight. Arrrggghhhh.)