Tuesday I had to do my second glucose test. I drank the funky drink and an hour later they drew blood. I felt weird after drinking it, but I felt that way last time (a few weeks ago). I got the dreaded call. The nurse said in her nicey nice, sing-song voice that “we’d really like to see your number below 140, but it was 152”. That means I have to go off to the lab for the 3 hour glucose test. Like I have time for that.
I declined the HIV blood test this time. I figure since I passed it with the other 2 kids and they all have the same dad there is no need to repeat that one. I know I’m negative.
I also declined the cystic fibrosis test. Again, same dad for all three kids and the last two times I took it I was negative for the gene or whatever they are looking for.
My OB appointments will be every 2 weeks for now. If I test positive for gestational diabetes (and it’s not looking good for me), then I will also have non-stress tests every week right around the holidays. Doesn’t that sound like a boat load of fantastic fun? I know you’re all green with envy now because trying to find a babysitter for 2 doctor’s appointments a week every other week while juggling a preschooler’s schedule is so easy and having to abstain from any sweets during Christmas and New Years is easy peezy. Yep. You. Wish. You. Were. Me. I can tell.
I will survive and I know all of this is in the best interest of my baby. I understand why they operate in this fashion and I will submit to their testing and such. As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for non-stress tests once a week I would not have known I was in labor with Jeremy and things would have been a lot more complicated and stressful the day he was born. I’m sure several hours later I would have figured it out, but by then I would have been home alone with a 19 month old and 40 minutes from the hospital with a husband almost an hour and a half from home. I imagine an ambulance would have needed to be involved as well as a mad rush from the in-laws to come be with my little girl. I imagine Rich would not have made it to the hospital in time to see Jeremy’s birth. I imagine it would have been a horrible few hours.
So crappy news on the diabetes thing. But I’ll be fine. Just don’t slurp too loudly as you indulge in your sweet treats this holiday season. I might just reach through the wires and slap your face off. LOL!