If Looks Could KillThursday morning was really not a pleasant time for me. Now, no, it was not a horrible day, and I know that it could have always been worse. However, I feel the need to share the intense unpleasantness.
Thursday morning marked my OB appointment where my glucose was tested. Now anyone who has ever been pregnant is going, "YUCK". You know what I am talking about. This is where you have to drink that nastiness disguised as orange soda which tastes nothing like it and has an automatic reaction of gagging. Not only do you have to drink this disgusting mess, but you are not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before. MIDNIGHT!! That is hard for anyone, but it is especially hard for a pregnant woman and even harder for a pregnant woman who allows herself one cup of coffee each morning.
Needless to say, I was not in the best mood when I arrived at my appointment at 9:00 in the A.M. As I sat waiting, not happy at all, a girl walked in with her mother. I say girl because she looked all of 16. I glanced up and had to look again to make sure she was actually pregnant. She had a little bump, kind of like the one I have all the time when I am not pregnant. Then she informs the front desk that she finished her glucose drink at 8:15.
At this point I almost choke. Why you may ask? Well, you have to be between 25 and 28 week to do the glucose test, which means she was as far a long as I am. However, the difference was insane. I know, I know. Everyone is different but this mess is ridiculous!!!
|Me!! (not really, but close. I am actually a bit bigger)|
|Her!!!! (not really, but this is pretty accurate|
I now begin to sink into a little bit of depression. However, it is lightened when I get called back and get to talking with my super fabulous nurse and the BEST midwife in history! The bubble bursts though when super, skinny B---- comes back in to the small room to have her finger pricked. I ask her how far along she is. "25 weeks", she responds snottily (I guess the B---- was an accurate description).
I look at my midwife and say (close to tears), "That is ridiculous! Look at her and look at me!" My midwife says, "Liz this is your third baby! You look great. You can't compare the two!" I feel a little bit better until the super young, skinny b---- opens her mouth and says (totally lacking in any tack whatsoever), "It's my third baby, too."
My midwife and nurse later told me that if looks could kill that little heifer would have bee dead on the spot. Seriously, have some compassion!