Went to the doctor this morning and got the usual eyeroll after the "shocking" revelation that I've gained another eight pounds. Why the crap can't they let me take my clothes off before they weigh me?! The doctor was all "John, what are you feeding her?" and John (because he's the man I was born to marry) simply snapped back "She's FINE!" After that the doc didn't say boo about how much I'm allowed to gain (or not gain) next month. He did bust out that little circle calendar thingie and said "August 18" before he'd even measured me or anything. I'm sticking with the sonographer's August 16 estimation, and praying that she comes WAY earlier, like, two weeks early would be awesome. As we were leaving the office we both agreed that Dr. Parks won't be our guy for the next pregnancy — his bedside manner is just not the best. I'm more comfortable with female doctors anyway.
Not that I don't realize that I've gained 36 pounds … good grief. I should probably try and cut down on the sugar and carbs a bit, but dangit, baby LIKES sugar and carbs!! Know what I'm clinging to right now? While we were in the waiting room I flipped through People magazine and it said that Milla Jovovich gained 70 pounds during her pregnancy. Sure, she's a model and she probably weighed a hundred pounds going in and has already lost it all thanks to her chef and personal trainer … but I don't care it made me feel a little better.
My blood pressure was 119/75, something like that (I should really write things down) and my pulse was a little high because we took the three flights of stairs up to the office, so all signs point to me being a healthy albeit LARGE pregnant lady. The baby's heart beat was a lovely strong 148.
Tonight we have our first childbirth preparation class. When I signed up on the phone today the lady told me to bring a blanket and pillow if I wanted to … I asked her if I'd be lying on the floor and she laughed and said no, but then didn't elaborate. So, someone, what the heck do I need a blanket and pillow for? I'm a little nervous. We also found out that we can't get into the baby care class (I was bummed and John was thrilled – he's an instruction manual kind of guy) and we are now on the waiting list to get into the breastfeeding class (the only available time isn't until after the baby comes). To make me feel better John read to me for an hour out of What to Expect the First Year while Henry sat with me on the couch. It helped but I can't help just feeling blah today. It's kinda cold out and overcast and I easily could lie in bed and watch movies all day just feeling sorry for myself. Alas, there is work to be done …