Things are looking (mostly) good right now — my weight gain is within acceptable range (in fact, I’ve lost a pound; clearly, I need to increase my Snickers bar consumption), baby’s heartbeat sounded good. My BP was 118/82 (<— boo to that bottom number!) and my pulse was 120+, though, which is … worrisome. But I was also pounding coffee (thanks, poorly sleeping preschooler!) and my pulse had calmed down by the end of the visit. My doctor’s not happy with the fact that I’ve had some problems with my heart racing/lightheadedness/feeling like I’m going to pass out, mostly between 8-11am; things usually resolve themselves by lunchtime, and with lots of water and generous handfuls of gorp. She said it could be blood sugar or dehydration, but wasn’t unhappy enough to send me for tests. So, we’re in the home stretch, but of course my body has to start acting all nutty. (Just like last time!)
(It’s totally sick that I’m stoked to have lost a pound, isn’t it?)
I go back on 9/30 (the day after my 36th birthday), and go in weekly after that. Five and a half weeks to go until Rex Boy’s eviction.
In other news, I met with one of my dissertation chairs this morning and we talked about the new and exciting turn my dissertation has made (who’d’a thunk I’d be dancing with Virginia Woolf in this thing? Diasporic Indian women writers and … British modernism?) and the two jobs I was toying with applying for. I’m feeling very envigorated right now, despite this cold that’s making me want to do nothing but sleep.