Valentine's Day Massacre

Happy Valentine's Day! It's a big day since today I hit Week 28 which means it's the start of my third trimester. We're on the homestretch. My sweet, sweet husband tried to give my Valentine's Day gift last night because he was excited about it, but I made him wait until this morning. So promptly at 7:00 am, he pulled out a little box wrapped all in pink. He gave me some really beautiful John Hardy earrings. I had made a photo book on Kodak Gallery of our San Francisco trip for him. Better late than never!

I also had my 7 month checkup this morning. At 28 weeks, they make everyone take a blood glucose screening test to check for gestational diabetes. You have to drink this syrupy stuff that tastes like Hawaiian Punch and then an hour later they draw your blood. All went well until the "draw your blood" part.

Wendy is my usual nurse and can find a vein blindfolded. Wendy was sick today. Since my veins are the size of a strand of hair, I always have a bit of a problem with letting let people stick me. The first nurse (read: first) came in and gave it her best shot. And after she tried once, it looked like I'd been shot. Thank God nothing got on my clothes, but I'm not amused. She tried again and even though I'd never met her before, I'm pretty sure she was trying to punish me. With that failed attempt, she said "Let me go get someone else". Good idea.

I'm a little stressed out now. I jumped off the table to walk around to calm down and turned around to see the table that the nurse hadn't cleaned up. Then I loose it. Nurse #2 walks into me having a nervous breakdown and practicing deep breathing. I feel really bad because what conversation must Nurse #1 have had with her? "Hey - could you draw some blood from the girl in room 2? I've tried twice and now she's freaking out and having a panic attack. P.S. - I didn't clean up the mess. You're a pal!".

Nurse #2 starts in on my left arm. She sticks me and there's silence for about 10 seconds. Then she said "there's no blood coming out of your veins". That's when I start laughing. And it's not a sane "wow! that's really funny!" laugh. It's more like a "I'm one more poke away from being admitted to the psych ward" laugh. The good news is that she got it the last time. So four sticks, three bandages, two nurses, and one nervous breakdown later, I had completed my blood glucose screening test and I'll probably be having my baby at home.