That was a craptacular weekend. First Jake’s car died, then my mom and sister had to drive us all the way home on Sunday, then Jake realized he lost the car insurance and ownership papers for his Prelude and Corvette, then I was wide awake last night until 6:30 in the morning. Of course my pregnancy-induced insomnia had to return on a weeknight, right? Then Jake told me today that he’s thinking about holding onto the Prelude for a longer period of time, which pisses me off. The nesting instinct is kicking in full force, and the fact that Gertie will not fit in his car is literally making me panic.

Me: What do you mean you want to keep the car?
Jake: It still has some life left in it. And I don’t want the added expense of a newer car.
Me: Okay, but wouldn’t it make more sense to sell the car now while you can still get a few thousand for it? There’s no way the baby will fit in your car and it’s freaking me out.
Jake: She will fit in it.
Me: No, she won’t. When you get the car back, I want you to take the car seat out to the car and attempt to fit it in your back seat. It will not fit. In fact, it will barely fit into my back seat.
Jake: I can put her in the front seat.
Me: *laughing* No, it’s illegal to put her in the front seat. This isn’t 1978.

I realize that the nesting instinct isn’t exactly rational, but it’s there and it’s hard to get across to Jake how much this stuff bugs me. She’s going to be here in 10 weeks (!!!) and the dresser isn’t done and we haven’t started on the room. Rationally, I know the room is more for us and not for the baby, and that the room technically doesn’t have to be decorated by the time she’s born, but when I start to think about it the internal panic sets in.

Last night I went back and read some of Jake’s LJ posts from when we first started dating, and it made me incredibly nostalgic. I can’t believe how fraught with drama our lives were back then, which seems so foreign compared to how we get along now. We rarely fight, and when we do it’s usually over something trivial and within a few hours we’re back to normal. A few of his posts from way back talked about how he didn’t know if he wanted to ever get married, and he definitely didn’t want any kids. (I didn’t either, at that point.) And now we just have this . . . life together. And it feels so normal and so right. Now I have a husband that curls up behind me in bed with his hand on my belly, getting a huge kick out of his daughter elbowing or punching or kicking him in the hand. I have a husband that has been toiling and sweating over a dresser refinishing project for his baby girl, and he’s so proud of himself – and rightfully so. I have a total sweetheart of a husband and I just can’t believe that our relationship was so rocky in the beginning.

I was up all night for the second night in a row, so I called in sick today and decided to go and get the stupid blood test over with. Jake came with me to keep me company and that was really helpful. I wound up having to be stuck four times for three blood draws: Once in each arm and once on the top of each hand. She only had to dig around for one of the pokes and she quit before I started to freak out. So it wasn't that bad and now it's over with. I'm crossing my fingers that I am not diagnosed with GD!

So, for the past week I have been craving a slice of store bought cake of the vanilla on vanilla variety. (I know, boring!!) Every day I wistfully say, "I really want some cake right now." So today I came home from my chiropractor and Jake had dinner going because I had such a bad day, and he had a surprise for me: A cake from the grocery store! I started laughing and said, "Awww honey, I'm sorry you might have gestational diabetes, here's some cake!" He always knows how to make me feel better.

My biggest fear has come true. I had my OB appointment today and my one hour glucose test was “a little high.” So I have to have the two hour test, which = three separate blood draws. I have had more anxiety about this very thing than I do about giving birth. As I was crying in her chair, she added insult to injury by telling me that I had to watch my weight because I gained six pounds since last month. The most I have gained in any prior appointment is one pound, and she found it necessary to lecture me about my weight while I am sobbing in her chair?

The part that pisses me off most is that I should have refused to take the first test. I KNOW the one hour test is not accurate. I KNOW that I could retake it tomorrow and get totally different numbers. I KNOW that only 12-15% of the people who fail the one hour screening test actually get diagnosed with GD. I KNOW that, more than likely, I am going to have to go through torture to be told that I don’t have GD and it all could have been avoided if I had just said “No thanks” to the first test. I can’t refuse the two hour test now because the seed has been planted, and I would be given the guilt trip of all guilt trips: You could be hurting your baby if you don’t have the test.

So now I get to miss 3+ hours of work to be stabbed repeatedly in the arms, to wind up looking like a pregnant heroin junkie.

I went to the chiropractor yesterday and it went okay. She's super busy and I had to wait for a while, and since it was my first appointment it took longer than normal. She told me that due to the ligaments loosening to prepare my body for childbirth, I'm having severe issues with my sacroiliac joints (which I knew because if I push on those joints the pain is immense) and I also have a pinched sciatic nerve, which is causing the pain in my butt that radiates down my right leg. Again, knew that, but I guess I just thought it would fix itself. My back is pretty misaligned because for months I have been walking to compensate for the pain I've been having. Just a few days ago I got out of the shower and looked at myself in the mirror, and I could see that my right hip is slightly higher than my left and that my spine was crooked. So I will be seeing her often for adjustments and treatment. I'll see her every goddamned day if she makes the pain stop. The only thing that bugged me about her is that she lectured me about breastfeeding, but I realize that she's in a naturopathic, "crunchy" field so I humored her. Just fix my back and don't tell me what to do with my boobs, thank you very much.

My back has been absolutely killing me for the past few months. I wake up in the morning and I have little pain, but as the day wears on the pain gets progressively worse. By the time I go to bed at night, I am almost in tears because it is excruciating to try to put pressure on my right leg. And I’m pretty sure that I need my right leg to walk. I have an appointment tomorrow to see a new chiropractor that supposedly is wonderful with pregnant women. I am also going to start going for regular massages. I even ordered a maternity support belt, which looks like it would be ridiculously uncomfortable in this nasty heat, but I am willing to try anything at this point as long as the pain goes away or is significantly minimized. I wish I could just pop an 800mg ibuprofen, goddammit.

I had my one hour glucose test today and it was a breeze! The drink was nasty after the first few gulps, but I managed to get it down without any issues. The guy who took my blood was very nice and gentle and he got it on the first try, so yay for that! Now I just have to cross my fingers and hope that I passed so I don’t have to have the longer test. Gertie started going nuts almost immediately after I had the drink! She was all over the place because of all the sugar.

Tuesday we came home from work and found out that Purolator had been by to drop off two boxes, but since we weren't home we'd have to go pick them up at the depot. (I hate that. HATE. Just leave it on the goddamned porch.) So I got ridiculously excited because I rarely get packages, so we jetted to Purolator only to find out that Jake and I cannot read. We were supposed to wait until the next day to pick them up. So on Wednesday we went back and picked up our two boxes. The Purolator lady had to drag one of the boxes out from the back because it was so big! She was like, "Hmm, this says boxes 2 of 3, but the third box isn't here. I'll call you if I find it in the back." I was so giddy. So then we went home and, wouldn't you fucking know it, another Purolator guy came by to drop off the third package while we were AT the Purolator depot. So we had to go back again today after work to get the third and final package. Phew!

Jake's sisters totally hooked us up! They got us our infant car seat, car seat bases, and the cutest little monkey toys! Jake's head is going to explode once we have our showers and we have to load a ton of baby crap into the house. He's already complaining about the stuff we already have! Poor guy has no idea what he's in for.