But first, a gripe: apparently it snowed a whole lot yesterday. Which is no big deal out where we live, since The Boonies seem to operate on their own weather system, so we get snow pretty often. (Something about the geography there, who knows.) Today, I got up, got dressed, braved the icy roads to come to work on my next-to-last day, and… alas, The Giant Software Company is closed.

I mean, technically I was able to get into the building, and I’ll be working today because I have stuff to do, but the company itself is closed. And I had an email from my boss telling me that I should stay home because the roads are so icy. It just didn’t occur to me to check my work email before leaving the house this morning. Argh. Oh well, whatever, I’m here.

So, yesterday was my 30-week OB check-up. I have this weird neurotic habit left over from when I was overweight: I always do a little calculation in my head of what I think my weight will be when I get on the doctor’s scale, because I hate being shocked by the number. I knew what my weight was at my last appointment (two weeks ago), and I know that gaining a pound per week is about average during the 2nd and 3rd trimesters, so I mentally added two pounds to that number, and that’s what I expected to see on the scale. I thought it was possible, given how weird my stomach has been lately, that maybe I hadn’t gained anything. However, I ate a ton over Thanksgiving, so it could’ve also been a little more than two pounds. But I had a pre-defined range in my head, so I felt prepared.

The nurse called me back, and we chatted for a minute – boy, isn’t this weather crazy, that kind of thing. Then I got on the scale. My jaw dropped. The nurse looked at the number, looked at my chart, then looked back at the number. She very slowly and carefully said, “Um, you do know that you’re supposed to be gaining weight, right?”

Not only did I not gain anything since my last appointment, I actually lost six pounds in the past two weeks. So apparently all this stuff with my stomach falls under the category of “decidedly not normal,” in spite of what I was starting to think. My OB told me to make an appointment with my primary care doctor to make sure that I didn’t pick up some kind of bacterial something-or-other. So I’ll be seeing her later this week. Fun. If I got dysentery or some obscure intestinal ailment from our stupid well water, I’m going to be really pissed.

The good news is that the baby appears to be fine – she’s still kicking up a storm, and her heartbeat is perfect. So it’s only my health that’s suffering, not hers. And I suppose that if my ultimate goal is to keep my pregnancy weight gain to a minimum, I’m doing a pretty kick-ass job – only 8 pounds at 30 weeks! But I’m also realistic, and I fully expect to regain that six pounds (plus some) once I’m not so dehydrated anymore.

Speaking of fluids, I think I need to go find some hot cocoa or cider or something, because it’s damn cold here.