On Sunday, I took the 1-hour GTT to screen for gestational diabetes. Last night, the results arrived in my e-mail inbox.
Well, that’s not what the e-mail actually said, but that’s essentially what it meant. My blood sugar should have been under 140 one hour post-sugar drink. It was 151. That’s not a horrific number, but it’s high enough to mean I’ll have to return for the 3-hour test this weekend.
Of course. This pregnancy has been textbook so far. Everything has been going so smoothly. Life has been perfect. Of course something has to go wrong.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but I cried my eyes out last night over this, and again twice this morning. I mean, I sobbed. Until my face was swollen like a puffer fish. Until my head ached. Until my eyes were the bloodshot peepers of a drug addict. Until, perhaps, my brain and heart bled. I think I may have even said, “I’m going to kill my baaaabeee!” More than once. Yes, I’m being melodramatic. I know this isn’t the end of the world, as my mom kept reminding me while I cried into the phone. I know that, if I do indeed have GD, it’s manageable. I know Skittle can, and probably will, be okay.
I’m just so disappointed. Disappointed that my perfect pregnancy has to throw me a curve ball. Disappointed that I have something new to worry and obsess over. Mostly, disappointed in my body and myself. My stupid body, that does so little right. And my stupid self, because I have had a much stronger sweet tooth in this pregnancy and because I have let myself indulge at times. I now regret every damn bite. And I feel such guilt. This is all my fault.
I wish I had prepared myself for this possibility, but I never saw it coming. With my first pregnancy, I passed the 1-hour test with flying colors. (One hour after downing the sugary drink, my blood sugar was a fantastic 96.) I’ve also taken the three-hour test before, in screening for PCOS, and I failed the two-hour blood draw, but never the one-hour. Now, I’m scared I’ll fail the one-hour and two-hour, which would then give me the GD diagnosis. And what could this mean? Why is there such a huge difference in my body’s response this time??? Is it the Metformin I’m taking? Is the test wrong? Is it the sugary treats I’ve had? Or is it that, just as in everything else, this pregnancy is turning out to be truly, truly different from my first?
I don’t know, but I’m sad. I’m scared. I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed. I feel like all enthusiasm about this pregnancy has drained out of me and now I just feel dread at the weeks that lie ahead. I know I’m overreacting. Please don’t mistake this as my wishing I wasn’t pregnant at all. I am so, so happy and thankful to be here. I am totally in love with our Skittle. But I’m feeling horribly worried and fearful once again. And I’m realizing just how much is still out of my control. And how far we yet have to go.
And in other news, apparently I was also tested for anemia. And yes, my iron levels are a little low. Which would maybe explain why I needed three naps yesterday. Luckily, this one is easy to fix (in theory). But still… Throughout this whole pregnancy, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now, I guess it has. I hope it has. I hope this is it. I hope the bad news stops here.