D-Day

Soooo, yeah. I have been diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. It sucks. But, at the same time, it's easily managed and just basically a nuisance. Pricking of the finger 4 times a day and limiting my carb intake keeps it all under control. Combine it with the pregnancy induced hypertension and I'm just one big ball of fatty fun!

Actually, it hasn't been bad at all. Almost like a game, seeing if you can score the low points every time you test. Kinda like high school. Only with blood. And needles. Which, have I ever mentioned how much I HATE needles? Cause I do. But, I've gotten used to it and with the super fabulous little monitors they have these days, you can hardly feel a thing. At least, that is until you've been testing 4 times a day for several weeks and your fingertips are starting to become sore little pincushions. Nope, not bad at all.

I know my precious baby girl will be more than worth every bit of poking (Hee! I just said “poking”) and squeezing. She already is. I love her more than I can imagine and worry about her daily. Don't bother saying not to, cause it's pretty much a done deal. She is my responsibility and one which I didn't take on lightly.

I used to think there was NO WAY IN HELL that I would be able to stab myself in the finger and test my blood. It sounded so... painful. However, with a long and sordid family history of diabetes, I knew there was in increased risk of developing it. Being slightly overweight, having a pretty sedentary lifestyle, and not caring much about the whole nutritional eating thing, I was well on my way to the land of the sugar free diet.

The day of the first glucose screening test was nerve wracking. Even knowing that my chances were high for failing, I held out hope that I would be one of the lucky ones. Turns out- not so much. Huh. Go figure. So, after filling in all the important people in my life that the next step was the 3 hour test, I was flooded with new mothers saying, “Oh, I failed that one hour screen too. You probably just ate something with carbs or sugar in it that morning without realizing it. That's what I did. I breezed through the longer testing.” Or something along those lines. Only, I KNEW that that wasn't the case for me. I had sworn off sugar for a week, including soft drinks. The test was Thursday and I had stopped eating carbs on Monday. They had plenty of time to work their sweet delicious little way out of my system before testing.

So, a week later, I was back in the doctor's office, drinking that super sugary glucola junk for a second time. I dragged the hubby along to keep me company, since it was going to be a looong morning. My fasting level (in other words, no food for over 8 hours, period) was great. I downed the orange stuff and went out to wait for the first one hour draw. Results not so good this time. “It's okay. There's a chance the numbers will go down for the second draw! Just don't panic yet.” said the oh-so-kind young nurse. She was wrong. My numbers actually went UP at the next round. Guess I really am an overachiever at heart. At least it meant I could leave without waiting for a third hour, but now I was officially on notice. I was to go home, call the local hospital and schedule an attendance to a Gestational Diabetes Instructional class.

Another week went by and it was time for school. Again, Andy was coerced into joining me (Don't ask how I talked him into that one. It's not fit for public reading.) They made us watch a video, during which a woman, also diagnosed and on insulin, jabbed herself in her very pregnant belly with a syringe- repeatedly. All 3 of us knocked up women in the class, cringed and died a little inside watching that. Then, it was time to get to the nitty gritty. The teacher passed out our new fangled monitors and showed each of us how to use them, from changing the drum of needles, to storing the test strips. We took turns using our machines for the first time and my crazy self volunteered to go first. It was much less painful than anticipated. After that, a dietitian was brought in to go over portions and food categories. You can't use your standard old food pyramid for this program. Cheese is a protein, not a dairy and beans are a carb, not a meat. Very confusing. But, we got folders full of booklets, handouts and forms to help us remember what to and what not to digest.

It's been a few weeks now, with this new lifestyle and I have to say that overall, I do feel better. I've switched from 2% to skim milk and from white to wheat bread. Eating more veggies has also seemed to help. The hard part is limiting the bread and potatoes that I take in. At least Diet Coke, my saving grace, is allowed.

Now, I'm down to the final weeks of pregnancy and couldn't be happier to get the ball rolling. In truth, even with a relatively easy pregnancy, it's still exhausting, both physically and emotionally. All your time and concern is for the belly dweller growing in you. Every twitch, muscle strain, headache is analyzed. While you are enjoying the feeling of your baby move within, it's hard not to wonder, “Is she moving less today than yesterday? ARE THE FETAL MOVEMENTS DECREASING BECAUSE THE INTERNET SAID TO CALL THE DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY IF THEY DO?” Dear heavens, it will wear you out. I'm sure I'll miss being pregnant when it's over, but there's someone that I've been dying to meet even more.

And you know what, quite frankly, I'd really like a cold beer and huge ass slice of chocolate cake. Maybe mixed together in a bowl even.

Do not judge me.