This Monday I had to take the famous blood sugar test at the OB/GYN. It’s to make sure I don’t have gestational diabetes. But the thing is you can’t eat any sugar at breakfast to avoid false results in the test. The nurses told me that meant no juice or cocoa or jam. I figured fruits were out, too, since they contain natural sugars, but maybe I was wrong on that. So I ate bread and butter and drank milk. But frankly it was so odd not to have juice with breakfast. Just knowing I couldn’t touch sugar made my mouth water for all the sweet things in the house. Once at the hospital they made me drink a glass of water with sugar dissolved in it and took blood an hour later. Hopefully the results will be fine. I have a real sweet tooth, you know, so I’d be disappointed if I had to cut back, but there are certainly worse things to go through.
Anyway, it’s always interesting to people-watch at the doctor’s office. I look discreetly at all the ladies’ bellies to guess what month they’re at and what my belly will look like soon. Of course, this can make me nervous as I wonder if I’m the “right” size. My doc said I’m fine though.
Then there are just the differences in all the types of future moms. Today there was a chic one with tastefully dyed-blond hair, black clothes and a stylish gray cardigan to expose her belly. She was there with her husband, dark hair and casual chic, and their daughter, who was nearly a carbon copy of the mom clothes-wise. It’s the spring school holidays now, so there are lots of kids around. They were a smiley family, and the little girl was half singing about whether she was going to have a “petit frère (brother)” or “petite soeur (sister)”.
There was also an Arabic family, the father in jeans and a jacket, slightly balding, his wife in her black tunic dress and head scarf, a round cheerful face. They already had one little boy toddling along. I couldn’t help but wondering if the mom was treated well or if she only had female doctors examine her. I suppose I’m not as open-minded as I’d like to think, but we do hear these things on the news. Another little family I couldn’t quite figure out. The mom looked fairly young, and was there with her husband, a jolly roly-poly type, and a little girl. I couldn’t imagine it was her daughter, maybe a sister. But you never know. They were all cracking up at some joke, heads bent down in laughter.
A nurse passed by with newborns in little plastic bed carts. I craned my neck to check out the little pink faces and try to imagine that sized baby to take care of in a few months (not to mention squeeze out of me). A few times they seem to have “field trips” with new moms in their terry-cloth robes pushing their babies along. I wonder if this is to help them start feeling independent again and give them the opportunity to “show off” their babies in the clinic they used to visit the nine months before. It’s a nice idea, anyhow, coming full circle. I’ve still got a few months to go until I’m at that stage, so I’ll try to be patient and enjoy this time when the baby isn’t waking me up with crying.
Until next time…
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