A Lesson in Tact

I had another interesting conversation in my group therapy session with my residents yesterday.

Girl: Ms. Cheryl! You're getting fat!... (pause)... Is that okay for me to tell you that you are getting fat?

Me: When is it ever okay to tell someone that they are getting fat?

Girl: Well, you ARE as big as a warehouse!!!


Hmph... I should've just left it at fat.

Practice Run

Last Tuesday found me at the hospital. My doctor had sent me there to be monitored for an hour. That hour turned into almost 8 and involved lots of tests, 2 ultrasounds, an IV and a shot. I was having very small contractions but couldn't really feel them. It was such a surreal day. I was hooked up to machines, had fluids running in me, had nurses and a doctor coming in and out all day and I felt perfectly fine. I wasn't even worried. Wouldn't it be nice if labor was really like that. Poor Will was stuck at work and calling me every chance he could to get an update. My superhero mother-in-law sat with me, advocated for me and brought me lunch, cookies and limitless drinks (when they FINALLY let me eat). At the end of the day, everything checked out okay. I was fine and the baby was fine. We have been so blessed with health! If nothing else, it was a good opportunity to rest and try out the hospital where I plan to deliver. I'd say the hospital, medical staff and my mother-in-law all passed the inspection test. Let's just hope I don't have to go back there for about 12 more weeks!