My 34 week appointment was another good one.
The OB office has the obligatory wall o' birth pictures. All the doctors, holding up the new babies they delivered. As I've mentioned, the people who work there are ridiculously good looking.
But there is a picture of this one doctor who is not ridiculously good looking. That's not to say that he is necessarily ugly. As a matter of fact, we've been talking about how we hope we get to meet with him because he looks...like fun. Like, maybe he delivers babies by day, and then rides his hog to The Handle Bar by night.
Mark has been coming to all of my appointments. But this one he decided to skip, because I had three this week and OH MY GOD there are only so many times we can drive two cars to doctor appointments then wait an hour then get home at 6 to two dogs who have been in their cages since 7 am.
So anyway, the day Mark skips is the day that I get to meet with Dr. Handlebar Mustache. Of course. Because I know that something funny is going to happen. It always does when I am by myself, and then I tell a story so outrageous and have no way to prove that it is true (or at least mostly true) and not me just exaggerating for the sake of my blog.
Dr. Handlebar Mustache is very prompt. He was five minutes early for my appointment, and pretty much ran it the same way as everyone else. But then, in what I imagine to be good doctoring, asks me the following question:
"So, has anyone told you what to expect as a patient with The Diabeetus?"
OH MY HOLY HOT DAMN!
I shit you not, he called it THE DIABEETUS.
And I know, I know, it's time to move on from the whole Wilford Brimley thing. But it is kind of hard for my head not to explode when Dr. Handlebar Mustache, who looks like Wilford Brimley, calls the diabeetus The Diabeetus with a completely straight face while I am by myself with no witnesses to what can only be described as Too Much.
For a moment, I almost asked him if he read my blog...
So it seems that part of being all speshul with the diabeetus includes being all speshul with an induction no later than your due date, probably at 39 weeks.
I admit, my birth plan goes something like this:
2. As Many As Possible.
3. As Soon As Possible.
Basically I have no birth plan other than: get this kid out of me and I don't really want to feel much, kthxbye. I plan to go with the flow and do what the doctors say is best.
But induction? I don't know. I don't really want that unless it is absolutely necessary. And while the Planning Whore part of my brain is all THIS IS GREAT WE CAN MAKE SO MANY PLANS! Another part, perhaps the Big Big Baby part, says, oh noes, an induction is not what I want at all. I'd like to go into labor at home, and be comfortable(ish) at home for a while, and...other stuff.
On Friday, we had an ultrasound to check my fluids and the size of Cupcake. And as it turns out, she is perfectly average. She measured at 34 weeks 1 day (I was 34 weeks 3 days at the appointment), and her weight estimate was 4 lbs. 15 oz. which puts her right at the 50th percentile for size.
No giant diabeetus baby yet.
My blood sugars are under control with the lowest dose of Glyburide and a diabetic diet.
My weight gain is great - I just hit 20 pounds.
So, why would I need to be induced, dear internets?
If you had GD, were you told that you would need to be induced at 39 weeks?
Did anyone protest?
If you didn't have GD, but had an induction, can you tell me how it was? If you'd do it again? The upside and down side?
Before you answer, though, please note: Obviously I will do what is best for the baybee. I could do without any of the "you're a selfish asshole" type comments here.