A bare-bones post from one who is suddenly fleshy
My visit with the OB this morning started off with the following:
"How on earth did you manage to gain five pounds in two weeks?"
Jeff, from across the consultation room: "Cake."
And he's right--I did eat a cinderblock-sized portion of lemon cake at work the other afternoon, between hearty meals--but only partly: he failed to mention The Southern Cafe's macaroni and cheese, the entire flat of tangerines, the half-tub of (reduced fat!) ice cream that I ate over the sink, one spoonful at a time, the other night. And the fact that I can't stop eating, well, anything that is within my reach. I have never experienced this absolute inability to control myself before. Damned good luck that I passed the GD screen.
Aside from the not-exactly-desirable weight gain (depending on whether you count it pre-stims or from my first OB visit, I'm already up either 17 or 23 pounds, and I still have eleven weeks to go--but I'll take it, and thank you very much), everything looks OK. The oh-so-advanced tape measurer The Good Doctor used on my belly indicated that growth is on track. The heart, it is a-beating. Her head is currently pointed cervix-ward. And I start twice-a-week antenatal testing on the 7th, at 32 weeks, with a slew of semi-routine appointments and tests and even birthing classes before that.
My goodness. I just can't believe I'm here.