Liars Abound

I am a vision. A Venus in denim panel pants. Mona Lisa with a greasy ponytail. If there is one thing that I have learned about being pregnant, it is that everyone you know, and some strangers, are suddenly willing to lie to you.

It ranges from, “Oh, no, those maternity stirrup pants don’t make your ankles look fat!” to “You know, you just might be the cutest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen!” (Got that little gem, standing in line at a Bath and Body Works store. I’d like to say that I didn’t take the compliment to heart, tear-up, and try to restrain myself from flinging my arms about the poor woman… I’d really like to, but I can’t.)

Another week—another trip to the doctor. More exposed lies.

I wish to publicly examine a few of these lies for you, so that you don’t get too cozy, as I have, in your gestational world.

 

1. A fetal heartbeat can tell you the sex of the baby.

False. For weeks leading up to my ultrasound, my baby’s heartbeat was somewhere in the high 150’s. Or as my doctor put it: The “Girl Range”. Now that’s a risky little game, telling a mother of two boys that she has a good chance at a girl. I would like to add that since the ultrasound and the ultimate reveal, my son’s heartbeat has gone back down to a more boyish 140. Perhaps he was anxious to find out for himself…

 

2. Wardrobe can affect perception.

True. A few weeks ago, while at the doctor’s office, I mentioned how big this baby felt, to which my doctor replied, “You don’t look that big.”. He proceeded to measure my belly with the paper  measuring tape, pointedly glance at my blouse, then added, “Of course, black can be deceptively slimming.”.

3.   You cannot develop gestational diabetes with subsequent pregnancies if you have not had a problem with a previous pregnancy (or two…)  

False. Turns out, this baby might just have a good reason for being huge. My last glucose test came back a little high, for which I have earned a ticket to the fun zone. Yep, turns out there’s a prize for a high glucose test. I get to spend my day on Monday, fasting for six hours, after which I will spend 3 hours in the waiting room of my doctor’s office, drinking “glucola” and having my blood drawn every hour. Anyone want to recommend a good book?  

The best news of all? If I triumph again, (fingers crossed…) I earn a trip to the dietician who will take away all complex carbohydrates and sugars from my diet.  Hooray! How can one girl be so lucky?

 Here’s looking forward to another 10 weeks of fun and myth busting.