Super Meatball

I don't normally post about the doctor visits. For the most part they are uneventful and honestly, I am not a huge fan of my doctor. And I guess here is where I am weird, I didn't change docs after not bonding well because I have about a 10% chance of her delivering Aidan. So, any other skilled doctor could catch him also and I wouldn't mind. I am more concerned with liking his pediatrician. That for me is very important.

Anyhow, my doctor is a birdlike Asian lady who often checks for the kiddos heartbeat, asks how I feel (while barely listening to my reply) and then tells me to schedule my next appointment with the assistant. The assistant that I like way more than her. My doctor is flighty and must keep a very tight schedule as she has about 15 minute allotted for my questions and usually nods and says "uh-huh" as she hurries me along with vague non comforting answers as she inches toward the door. It's like a race to see how many of my questions (which I write down and check off my list) I can get out before she escapes our room. I tend to get most of my info from nurses nowadays. The best visit was when I needed forms signed for work and she backed away like they were on fire while stating that she doesn't sign forms as the records department takes care of all of that. I flipped out, burst into tears and shrieked in outrage (awesome pregnant tantrum to say the least) and it's like she couldn't deal with the crying. She grabbed my forms and just signed them without reading a word. She could have been signing anything. It was a ray of sun though the clouds, church music, hallelujah moment for me. I had found her kryptonite. Crying. (This was the day I realized how powerful a crying pregnant woman could be. Very useful info.)

So this visit was different this week. Aside from the fact that doc didn't stay two feet from the door and not dare sit down in fear of lengthy comforting conversation, it was different for a few reasons. We listened to little mans heart. Awesome. We talked about my headaches. Tylenol(lame). And she measured my tummy. DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNN. I am enormous. I knew that. But I kinda figured I was just pregnant and every woman felt enormous at this point. Well doc got concerned for the first time and ordered me to an ultrasound. Oh and to my diabetes test, which I promptly failed. But not by a large enough margin of failure to rule anything positive or negative. I schedule the FOUR HOUR glucose test and the ultrasound for the same morning. To knock it out and head to work after.

Haaahhaha. Yeah, about that. I almost killed innocent lab technicians that morning bright and early at 7 am. One decided to joke with me. I hadn't eaten in 12 hours. Nor had I been caffeinated. He shoulda thought it through. I threatened to come over the counter and eat him (that really happened) because he joked that the didn't do those tests on Fridays............just kidding! Really? He doesn't know how close to death he was. OK, to shorten this up a tad I will scoot through the boring parts. So, we get blood drawn every hour after I drink the gross fake orange soda ( I highly recommend asking for a room temp bottle, it goes down easier) and I was tired and woozy after not eating. And I had more holes in both arms than a heroin junky. Kelly (had he not been there I would have left after the first blood draw. I have no patience.) and I hurry upstairs to do the ultrasound and see Aidan kicking the crap outta me as usual. The tech tells us we have a tough guy on our hands as he knocks her and the tummy squishing camera thingy. And then she tells us he is as big as a baby at 30wks 5 days. We are at 27 weeks. Kelly and I are in awe. She also tells us that he has about a quarter more fluid than is normal ( on top of being an enormous meatball of a boy) and that she would be right back. We sat and tried some new number crunching, thinking we could have screwed up the math and had the due date all wrong. I knew my tummy was big, but that's incredible. So tech lady returns and tells us that doc would call us about the measurements. We took our ultrasound pics of tough guy and left.

The doc called from her personal cell phone. Strange. She scheduled a weekly visit with a specialist to measure Aidan. And she already got my results from the four hour torture chamber. Negative for gestational diabetes. Hmmm. Is that quick of service a good thing? She seems worried. Our due date is right she assured us. As usual she gives us no real answers and we are left to our own ideas. We decided that perhaps he is just a big guy. No sense in stressing until we know why she is concerned. Maybe she is sympathetic for the specialist because she finds me so grating on her nerves. So the status is: huge belly, big baby, major Olympic sized swimming pool for him in there. And updates shall follow.