Rounding third *Updated*

Today I started the third trimester. To celebrate the milestone, I opted to do my (second) 3-hour glucose tolerance test this past Thursday. I'll find out the results at my next OB appt, which is this coming Wednesday. Actually, if I failed it, I'll probably find out before then as they'll call me to schedule a nutritional consult or at least that's what I've been told they do.

Overall, I feel pretty good. No swelling, no headaches, just some shitty sleeping coupled with incredible nasal congestion, along with random contractions every couple of days that are reminiscent of menstrual cramps (and that have me beginning to consider the L&D process, which--even though I've done it once already--still gives me pause and sometimes even scares me a bit).

I mean, I know what it's like, I survived it once but I know that every experience is different. My (induced) labor with J took just over 7 and-a-half hours from start to finish with 1 1/2 hours of it pushing (before the doc threw in the towel and brought out the vacuum--which failed miserably--and then the stainless steel salad tongs, which worked like a charm, an incredibly painful charm). My OB was kind enough to recently tell me, after I asked, that most women who have a forceps delivery with one are usually able to deliver without forceps in subsequent L&Ds. Yeah, my guess is that's because those tongs stretch you out quite nicely, thank you.

Statistics say that subsequent labors are typically faster than first-time labors. I thought that my 7 1/2 hours was pretty quick...but oy, that means it could go quicker with 2.0 (who still does not have a name, btw)...and we've all heard those horror stories about women whose labors go so fast they don't have time for the epidural or any pain meds (I actually know one of these gals IRL). Yeah, please don't let me join their ranks. I loved my epidural. Even when it wore off and I couldn't get another full med dose, I realized that it could have been much much worse since I'm the world's biggest pain sissy.

So here I sit, beginning to ponder the inevitable: that this baby has to come out one way or another. Sometime in the next few weeks, I'll preregister at my local hospital (where I had J) as well as the facility about 40 minutes away that has a level III NICU, standard procedure for a high-risk patient in these parts.

In the meantime, though, I'll continue to spend my days enjoying the kicks that remind me she's really in there, despite the fact that at times I still find it hard to believe. I'll also spend time admiring the stretch marks I've recently acquired. I didn't get any with J and, believe it or not, I felt like I was missing something; like I didn't have any lasting tangible proof (well, besides the revised state of my girly bits post-J) that I had a baby. I've currently got about 3 small stretch marks, they're actually kind of cute I think. And they'll always be a reminder of what I've been through, just as my lap scar below my belly button reminds me of all that we went through long before these babies graced my body, my soul, and my life.

*Updated to say that I passed my 3-hour GTT, again. Heh heh. But...of course, one reading was slightly elevated (132 out of 135) so they may send me back a third time at some point in the next month. Yippee.*