And, in fact, since I'm "expired", or "past due" or however else you'd like to refer to it, I am now required to do lots and lots of monitoring. I've been surprised at how skittish the hospital and doctors have been, once you pass a certain magical date that may or may not have been accurate to begin with.
So. I go in on Tuesday for my first official "you're-late" appointment and I have to get hooked up to the monitor...something about making sure the baby is getting oxygenated enough. When my fabulous midwife comes back to the room to check the printout of the baby's heartbeats, she gives a little sigh and says, "Hmm....I really need to see a bit more of an elevated heartbeat."
She suggests juice from the faculty refrigerator. I suggest josh going to the vending machine. [I totally played it off on not wanting to steal the faculty's juice...NOT the fact that I'm always up for visiting the vending machine.]
I let her win - she said the juice is bought by the office FOR the patients - and she brought me a juice box. I drank it and five minutes later, she checked me again.
"Still not spunky enough," she commented. She stepped out to give me a few minutes and josh snuck off to the vending machines. That dear man knows his wife so well.
He came back with a 3 Musketeers, and I had it completely eaten before Pauline came back into check me again. She looked at the printout and cheered. "Just what I was looking for!" she said, as I popped the last bite of the whipped chocolate bar into my mouth.
Could it be that my child has already built up a tolerance to sugar - unless it's in massive amounts? That juice doesn't faze him, but just go directly to the good stuff?
Well, at least we passed the test. AND I got to eat a candy bar. WITH the approval of my midwife.
Wonder if I can do that next week too...?
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