Here at Chez Reeve-Manfredi, we grow 'em big. Deano & Doyle, our pair of kitties, are 22 lbs. and 14 lbs. respectively. Our turtle Nigella is possibly a descendant of Gamera. Neither Richard nor I are mere waifs either. And Baby Vi is getting ready to join this plus-size crew, at 3 lbs., 2 oz. (at only 28 weeks gestation).
But the reason I'm bouncing off the satellites is that she is just big by nature, and not as a result of gestational diabetes. I passed my 1-hour test!
When I got the news this morning, I literally had to close my office door so I could do a happy dance. I was so convinced that I would fail the test, and this would be one more thing about pregnancy that my body can't figure out how to do right. And since there is a link between GD and preeclampsia, I thought I was doomed. But with post-test sugar levels at 123, well under the cut-off of 140, I'm doing fine! Which means Vi is doing fine. Which means I can relax again.
Maybe once I can relax, I won't have the weird "oh no!" dreams. I had one last night. I dreamed I was dropping Richard off at kickball when someone asked if we'd had the baby yet. And I couldn't remember! And then it dawned on me, wait, we did have the baby, and I must have left her at daycare, and it's already 7 pm. Then I couldn't find the daycare's phone number or address. I went home and realized that the crib wasn't even set up, and I panicked. And then I woke up, panting and anxious. I guess the fact that she's really on her way is starting to sink in.