Last week I obsessed on Facebook and Twitter about my one hour glucose test. I don’t remember obsessing over the same test two years ago when I was pregnant with Sophia. That’s not to say I didn’t, I just can’t remember much past two hours ago let alone two years ago.
The big day came last Wednesday and I was mindful not to inhale a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies the night before. After work I went to the OB’s office, pounded sixteen ounces of fluorescent orange drink and waited the prescribed hour and then had my fourth vial of blood drawn (I had blood drawn for an assortment of other tests that day too, yay!). The lab tech told me she’d call if I failed and I was sent on my way.
Having heard nothing Thursday or Friday, I relaxed over the weekend (with the help of some candy at the movies on Saturday night). Yeah, you know where this is going. I got the call from the lab tech yesterday morning. I failed.
Unlike high school, I had a second chance to turn my failure around and save myself from gestational diabetes hell that I’m convinced I’m headed for. Tomorrow I get to pound even more orange drink and get my blood drawn four more times. After all the blood they took from me last week and the blood they’ll take from me tomorrow I’m not sure I’ll have any left.
Of course the news of my initial failure has sent me into an anxiety induced tail spin. Given my mom’s history of gestation diabetes and now diabetes, I’ve already diagnosed myself. I’ve briefly gone over our meal plans from the last few weeks and can’t find too many carb heavy meals so of course I’m convinced I’ll just starve for the remaining ten weeks or so of my pregnancy. Then I did what I always do but shouldn’t do…I googled the risks associated with gestational diabetes and read things like macrosomia, pre-eclampsia, and emergency intervention during delivery (read: C-section). All of these things are enough to send my mind reeling into hypothetical situations that go into the distant future.
I should be reminding myself that I don’t know how badly I failed the one hour or that my sister failed her one hour test during her second pregnancy and only to pass the three hour with flying colors. I should be reminding myself that even if I do have gestational diabetes it’s only for a few months. I should remind myself of all of these things but I won’t instead I’ll cry over the carbs and the chocolate that are on the line.
Did you fail your glucose test? Did you end up being diagnosed with gestational diabetes?