Failure

Perhaps one of the most humbling things about being a mom is that there are some things you can't control. You can't study. Well, you can, but it won't necessarily help. This is particularly annoying to me. Ever since I got a C in reading in 6th grade (I can still vividly remember crying in the bathroom) I have worked my tail off to never be average, or heaven forbid, fail. I never wanted my teachers or parents to be mad or disappointed in me, and the maybe 3 times in my school career that I got my name on the board still make my stomach turn. I always tried to do better than was expected of me, and most importantly: I.don't.fail.

Until now. When I went into labor with Mabes (and had a surprisingly fast labor--yay for being above average!) and it was time to push, my doctor said, "Okay, just so you know, the average first-time mom pushes for 2 hours." What? They don't show that on Baby Story! But then I just rolled my eyes, scoffed a little and said, "Yeah, well, I'm not average. We'll get this kid out in 10 minutes." Two hours later, I was eating my words.

And then today, I found out I failed my 1 hour glucose test. Seriously? I've been studying for this test my whole life! My body knows how to handle sugar! The nurse did preface it with "You're iron levels are great!" (iron doesn't let me eat chocolate chip cookies, though, does it?) and then finished it with "You just barely failed it--it's more of a screening test and you're barely over the cutoff." I've always said that if I'm going to fail, I'm go to crash and burn, but apparently I can't even do that. It's like my doctor has written my name on the board, and tomorrow I may get a check mark.

So I go in tomorrow and get to sit at the lab for 3 hours drinking concentrated sugar on an empty stomach and being treated like a human pin cushion. Funsies! And I keep telling myself the gestational diabetes diet would have its benefits, and I will of course do what's best for the baby. I'd be lying if I said Sarah's dream about me having a 15 pound baby didn't scare me a little. I'm just hoping we get the results fast so I know if I can have ice cream tomorrow night.

Pillow Talk

My mom has an almost bizarre obsession with her pillow. I don't think it's just one pillow, she just really likes a good down pillow. Since hotels typically don't offer the quality of pillow she's looking for, she's been known to pack it in a suitcase and take it on trips. To Europe.

Years ago, Dave was complaining about his pillow, so my mom bought him one like hers. He was hooked. I'm a side sleeper, so I generally prefer something more firm than down, but I'm glad he's found a pillow he loves.

Last week, Dave was traveling for work, and I've noticed that uncomfortable pregnant sleep has started for me. (Already? Yeah, I know. My doctor has assured me that it's perfectly normal for things to happen earlier the second time around, but I've been surprised that the sciatica, pelvic pressure, and now sleep issues have happened this early. I'm really looking forward to swelling up and hearing comments about how huge I am next week. But anyway...) After much tossing and turning, I couldn't get comfortable, so I grabbed an extra pillow. It did nothing. Then I grabbed Dave's pillow. Oh, sweet relief! When I woke up in the morning, I realized I had slept through the whole night without moving. I was that comfortable.

After two nights of much improved sleep, Dave came home. I started to panic. I love Dave and I'm glad he's home, but I didn't want to give his pillow back. But I didn't want to make him give it up, either. So I considered my options: go out and buy a pillow just like Dave's and mom's, but I don't know where I'd find that. I think my mom has them specially made by fairies. Buy a snoogle, but aside from a name that gives me the heebie jeebies, it looks ridiculous and would probably knock Dave out of our queen-sized bed. And I'm morally opposed to body pillows; even if it were really comfortable, it wouldn't be worth the mocking I'd endure from Dave and Emily. So I was about to give up and just use a regular crappy pillow and then I remembered...

I have one of my mom's pillows in my linen closet. When she came to visit, she (of course) brought her own pillow and left it, so she'd always have a pillow here. Thanks to my mom and her pillow obsession, I'm sleeping much better.

(When you saw the title of this post, you probably didn't think I could make a whole post about pillows, huh?)