It’s been a few weeks, and my other journal has basically become baby mk 2 journal, but that’s purely because it’s the only thing in my head right now. But the important stuff goes here.
My bump is big and not quite uncomfortable, and I’m sleeping reasonably well, despite occasional kickings from madam at around 4am. I still weigh 15st 11, despite eating lots, and that’s from a starting weight of 15st 3. That’s the diabetes, for you. I’m not complaining about this, though I do worry they’ll decide I need to give birth earlier because I’m not putting on weight – I’ve already been told I’m not going to be allowed to go beyond my due date. Which is three weeks this Saturday. Eeeek. I have the fear now, as it’s all so close, after feeling like it was a million years away.
Since I’ve stopped work my blood sugar levels have gone much lower, which is great, and hopefully means that I’ll be allowed to go as late as possible (rather than higher = bigger baby = potential c-section and so on). I even allowed myself a spelt chocolate muffin (well, a third of it) at the weekend, and it didn’t shift my levels one bit, which was good. Now if I can just keep this up…
THREE AND A HALF WEEKS UNTIL I CAN POTENTIALLY HAVE A PIZZA AGAIN!!!!!
Actually, the really freaky thing is that this weekend I’m 37 weeks, so baby is classed as being full term. As in, she’s ready. As in.. well, y’know. GOD. My brain is taking time to process this.
I guess I should start packing my hospital bag, shouldn’t I?