First, thanks to all of you who commented on my last post. Each comment felt like a big, virtual hug and they all brought tears to my eyes. It’s been a hard week, Tuesday being the hardest day of all. I think the cry count on that day alone was a six. I’ve been saying some hateful things to myself and generally just feeling down in the dumps, but a friend invited Cupcake and I out for a playdate yesterday and that helped to lift my spirits immensely. I needed to get out and forget about moping for a while and I’ve been okay ever since. In my mind, I’m hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. Which pretty much sums up my entire approach to life.
As far as I can tell, there’s still a very good chance that I don’t have gestational diabetes. According to this website, a study done in the ’90s showed that, of the women who failed their 1-hour GTT with a score of 151-55 (remember, mine was 151), only 30.5% of them went on to be diagnosed with GD. So I guess the odds are pretty good for me. But still, I can’t help but feel that I often fall on the wrong side of statistics, so why would this be any different? And really, this pregnancy has just been too damn easy, hasn’t it? Also, it was brought to my attention by a couple good friends that many midwives don’t even test for glucose tolerance and so the argument is that screening for gestational diabetes may not be as important as the medical community makes it out to be. I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that, and I do know that I feel compelled to go to great measures to protect our Skittle (whatever the cost to me is), but it’s an interesting perspective and has left me feeling that maybe a diagnosis of GD isn’t as dire as I’ve been letting myself think it is.
If I do have GD? I’ll survive. I mean, of course I will. I do have a birthday ice cream cake looming in my future, but I can give up anything else that I need to. The hardest part for me will be if my body doesn’t tolerate fruit well. Because I live on fruit and I don’t honestly know what else I’ll eat. I’m not a veggie eater, except when in salads or mixed into pasta, and I can only eat so much of either. This week, I’ve been gorging myself on whole wheat bread with peanut butter, but I’m already sick of that. So…I guess that’s a bridge I’ll have to cross if and when I come to it. It’s also hard for me to think of testing my blood sugar multiple times a day. I grew up with a diabetic father (remember, not my bio dad, so no correlation between his condition and mine) and it hasn’t left a good taste in my mouth at all in regards to diabetes. And I already obsess over what I eat and how much. I mean, I’m 28 weeks pregnant and I still count calories. The thought of counting carbs too? Ugh. But I’ll get through it if I have to. I’ll do anything for this baby.
But in completely unrelated news, I just entered my third trimester! Which is exciting and a little sad all at once. I am just completely blown away by how fast this pregnancy is passing. Nothing like when I was pregnant with Cupcake and the weeks just seemed to drag on. This time, it seems that I blink and another week has gone by. And despite how much I hate all the worry that comes with pregnancy, I do love being pregnant. I love watching my belly grow. I love feeling the kicks and wiggles of a baby I have fallen in love with. I love preparing our home for a new addition. I love the anticipation and wonder that these nine or ten months bring. And as with any infertile, I can never know if this pregnancy might be my last. So I feel a little melancholy as I watch the pages on the calendar flip and realize all of this is quickly coming to an end.
Of course, with this end is another beautiful beginning, one that I feel I have been waiting for all the days of my life. And so I will be ready when the end comes, but for now, I just want to enjoy these last twelve weeks of pregnant, perhaps sugar-free bliss.