Rasbaby update

Yesterday, I went to the doctor for a Rasbaby checkup. It was great to see her on the ultrasound, although I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to take home any photos.

Here's what I learned about my favorite little fetus:

She weighs approximately 4 pounds 5 ounces, which is right on track for her gestational age. I'm very relieved, because diabetic mothers tend to have freakishly huge babies. But Rasbaby is just the right size, and she's expected to gain about 1/2 pound a week until she is born.

I can leave the "Someday, I'll Demand a Pony" onesie on the gift registry, because she is definitely still a girl. No surprises have popped up since we last saw her at 18 weeks.

She has long legs. I don't know how long, but my doctor pointed out and complimented Rasbaby's femurs. I wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be tall; I just hope she doesn't tower over me the way I tower over my mother, since I'm 5'10". On the other hand, perhaps in 20 years, 6-foot tall women will be the norm.

She has assumed the head-down position that babies are supposed to get into before birth. Her feet are just above my belly button, and the hearty pummeling I feel in my mid-section is coming from Rasbaby elbows.

She's an active little fetus, simultaneously impressing and annoying the doctor's staff with her ability to wriggle away from a heart monitor as soon as it's in place.

Even though she's getting her oxygen through the umbilical cord, Rasbaby is already practicing breathing. That's a really good sign; I couldn't be prouder of my little overachiever.

All the little details - heart rate, amniotic fluid level, etc. are exactly as they should be.

It's a tremendous relief to know that Rasbaby is healthy, strong, and appears to be well-equipped for a few more weeks in the womb. I'm also pretty healthy, all things considered, and there has been no talk of bed rest or starting maternity leave early.

Now, the biggest remaining question is, When?

Because my diabetes makes things a bit riskier, my doctor will continue to peek in via ultrasound every week. If things do happen to go awry, I have to be prepared for the possibility of an early baby.

If Rasbaby needed to be born tomorrow, she would eventually be fine, although she would need a stint in the ICU before coming home.

If she can stay put until March, I should be able to dress her in some cute newborn clothes, put a hat on her little head, and bring her home from the hospital when I check out. Who knows - I might even have her nursery ready by then.

If you want to send Rasbaby some positive psychic energy, just remember: March over February. Aquamarine over amethyst. Pisces over Aquarius (although I would welcome another Aries into my home, if push came to shove).

But no matter when she arrives, I trust that everything will happen exactly as it should. She's a good baby. A strong baby. And she's got her mother's femurs.

Remember when I was only slightly pregnant?

I used to think it was silly to speak of pregnancy in anything but absolutes.

Could someone really be "very pregnant" or "kind of pregnant?" Wasn't it a yes/no situation? A matter of black and white, or, as the test would indicate, pink or clear?

Now I know the answer.

I can state, with confidence, that I officially feel "very pregnant."

Where's the stork when you need him?

I can't stop thinking about the ship in the bottle.

It's a visual paradox.

Most people see the ship and wonder, "How did it get in there?"

I'm contemplating the neck of the bottle and instead thinking, "How badly would you have to damage the bottle to get that sucker out?"

Black ice & beige gravy: an eventful Friday night

I was going to stop by Happy Hour, have a Diet Coke with my beer-loving friends, and then head home. I needed to eat dinner no later than 6:30. Perhaps I would have salmon. Then, I might visit MySpace or check in on my Sims.

I was thinking rather mundane thoughts as I stepped off the curb into the office parking lot, momentarily contemplating its icy treachery as I found a seemingly safe patch of pavement on which to place my shoe.

Crash.

In a split second, I was thinking of nothing at all.

My face was pressed against the cold, wet pavement. The contents of my purse were spilled at my side. My laptop case was ten feet in front of me.

Not just a river in Egypt

I can't believe it's already 2007.

The last few weeks seem to have flashed by in fast-forward.

Rasbaby's negative-first Christmas.

Boxing Day.

Back to work again, then another long weekend.

I enjoyed my most pleasant New Year's Eve in several years. Even though the bar was excruciatingly low, it was still a good time.

The sugar and the damage done

It must have been something I ate.

When I failed the first glucose tolerance test last week, I went straight to denial. Maybe I went too late in the day. Maybe it was that cookie I had with lunch. Maybe I hadn't been drinking enough water.

I wasn't ready to be diabetic.

My doctor also extended the benefit of the doubt. She told me not to worry until we had seen the results from the follow up test.

So I woke up Monday, well before the crack of dawn, and dragged my hungry self to Labcorp. In exchange for a sugary beverage claiming some relationship to tropical fruits and access to the world's most disappointing magazine library, I gave up four hours of my morning and as many blood samples.

You could call it "One enchanted evening," but that was last year's theme

Last night was my employer's holiday party.

Every year, the company rents the ballroom of a local casino/hotel so that employees and their guests may enjoy an evening of dinner, dancing, and awkwardly introducing bored spouses to one another.

In many ways, the holiday party is like prom.

There's always a theme which could have been pulled straight out of a high school yearbook. This year, it was "An Affair to Remember." Past themes have included "Moonlight and Roses" (which I only remember because it was also the theme of my senior prom, and seemed equally banal at the time) and similar cliches with PG-rated romantic overtones. Of course, most people don't even notice the theme, since they flip straight past the invitation to the free drink coupons and raffle ticket.