Three hour Gestational Diabetes test and the results

Hey Four!

I did that 3 hour test.  I had stopped eating at 7 p.m. the night before and only had water.  My initial fasting blood level was 70 (last week that was 77).  Then they did a blood draw and off I went to start the 1 hour wait.  The lobby was so crowded.  I guess that there is a knee replacement surgery tour available.  I couldn’t believe how many people were there for that.  Then there was just the influx of post-holiday appointments.  So I was surrounded by lots of people.  I was able to read anyway.  I have been cranking through Game of Thrones on your dad’s Kindle.  The sugar drink was gross and as I sat there my tummy began to feel terrible.  About 35 mins after having the drink I was rushing to the bathroom with diarrhea (sorry, TMI, but that was the worst)!  So maybe my having that happen will help my numbers.  My body usually dumps sugar like that.  So the 1st hour draw was easy as we used the “Old Faithful” vein.  When I went back out to wait, I sat by the fishtank.  It was nice as it was daylight and just more open there.  My tummy was still bad.  Then for the next draw that reliable site was no good, so it was onto my right hand.  Ouchie!  That site is the most painful of them all today and has a raised purple bruise there.  When I went back to my fishtank spot, there was a chatty lady who was telling me about how she plans on suing the hospital.  It was all a little too much as I felt my blood sugar crashing.  I had been sitting quietly and reading, so it was just strange to me to get wrapped up in a long conversation.  It did help pass the time and it also highlighted the struggles her family is having with health care.  This woman is terrified about what will happen for her Type 1 diabetic son who is on Medicaid.  When I went back for the final draw the attempt on my right arm failed, so it was onto the left hand…again, ouchie, but not as bad as the right hand.  In total it was six sticks, due to the two fails.  Not bad for me.  Usually getting blood out is a lot worse than that.  Finally, at 1:45 I could eat, so I got some chicken tenders and headed back to work.  I had gone in at 7:30 a.m. to work before leaving at 9:45 for the blood test.  Then I was back at 1:50 and there until 3:30.  That was a long, long day for me as compared to what I have been used to.  I made a little run to the bank and when I finally got home it was after 4.

I was exhausted.  I sat down and could have slept – but I didn’t.  I think that was good because last night I had the best sleep I’ve had in a long, long time.  I have not had such a happy start to a morning as waking up from almost an entire night of solid sleep.  Sleep is so important.  I am so ready to do stuff today!  I thought I would type what I have rattling in my head and leave off here.  I am going to clean up and do some house stuff before going to work.  I hope to hear from the doctor’s office about my test results today, so I will update when I know more.  I also need to keep drinking water because I don’t think I did enough yesterday and with my bad tummy, I know I am dehydrated.  I have also felt a little cramping which I think is due to that.  I will work on a lot of water today and see if that helps!

—-

It is the following day now…yesterday was rough.  After writing here I went into nesting mode and cleaned quite a bit.  I would pause and check in with myself to see how I was feeling.  I got my shower and headed into work.  It was tense there.  I ended up meeting my park dist boss for a lunch with her daughter-in-law who I shared IVF info with.  Everyone had been asking if I had heard anything from my blood tests yet.  I hadn’t and it was certainly on my mind.  The weather was cold and windy and just getting to the restaurant to meet up was wiping me out.  I went back to work and checked in to see what else I could do.  I helped with some pro shop stuff and took some calls.  Then, I just thought it was time to get home and rest.

I got home and settled in.  I was looking up venues for baby showers.  If I had an unlimited budget I would go to La Chocolat d’Bouchard, which is this awesome chocolate shop and treat bar where your dad and I had our very first date.  They have a rental room on the 2nd floor where they do little lunch foods and sweet treats.  However, it is crazy expensive.  It appears that Grandpa M has beat me to the punch and already looked into the venue your dad and I had for our wedding.  That is pretty cool to think that we would be going back there.  We celebrated the start of our life as husband and wife there, so it would be special to also start our life as parents there too.  Your dad made me a nice dinner of Chinese food.  Right as we were eating, and it was later, the doctor’s office called.  My results have me at “borderline” – which means that I need additional blood work and regular monitoring of my blood sugar levels.  I will tackle the blood test today.  Anyway, my initial level was 78 and needed to be less than 95 = okay.  The 1 hour draw was 177 and needed to be less than 180 = borderline.  The 2 hour draw was 161 and needed to be less than 153 = fail.  The 3 hour draw was 69 and needed to be lower than 140 = hello crash!  Anyway, the numbers tend to rise as pregnancy progresses, so better to be in the know and watching it closely.

I wanted to talk to Grandma J (my mom), so when I called I guess I was blabbing on too much about how I feel like I will go early and that really set your dad off.  This is where it gets rough fast.  He mumbled something while I was talking with GJ and I couldn’t hear.  So when I hung up I asked him what he had said.  He was visibly upset and said that I better not go more than a month early.  I completely understand the concept of self-fulfilling prophecy.  I have been talking a lot about the possibility of that given how elevated blood sugar can contribute to large babies and often kick off preeclampsia which increases the chance for pre-term labor.  I guess I just figure that I tick all of the risk factor boxes for many of these conditions and so far I have managed to experience so many strange conditions like a subchorionic hematoma, I just am trying to prepare myself for the likelihood of going early…but it would not be desirable – obviously.  I can’t recall word for word what your dad said, but it was something along the lines of “you just want to get him out and not be pregnant.”  Again it was something like that, but I am trying very hard to forget it because what he said in that moment suggested that I don’t want you which is the absolute antithesis for my countless sleepless nights of praying for you to be ok.  I just felt so shattered with that comment.  I walked away and into the dark dining room where I collapsed over the back of a chair and started to cry.

Sometimes when I am super upset my crying can get downright ugly.  I also find that I have a hard time catching my breath and that is where I was.  Bad, ugly crying.  Again, I can’t remember word for word what your dad and I said because I was just so damn upset, but he came in and hugged me.  With having the hard time catching my breath, I just felt so terrible.  He said to calm down, which is great advice for an upset pregnant lady.  I said that of course I want to be pregnant and have been praying and wanting this more than anything, even longer than before we even started trying.  I explained that I have worried each and every day for longer than I can remember and when I am talking, I am just worrying and trying to cope aloud and that I was sorry for my talking upsetting him since I forget that he can be afraid too.  I apologized, yet I was hoping and needing to hear an apology from him and it didn’t come.  The whole atmosphere of the house changed in a snap.

I didn’t finish eating.  How in the world could I?  I felt like throwing up.  He went to work on your room in the quiet, while I cleaned up the kitchen as a means to not sit and continue to cry.  I stopped crying but still felt so destroyed inside.  I started to wonder if he was actually right and then immediately got mad allowing myself to even entertain that thought.  I know how much I want you and how much I wish that my being pregnant was easier on the both of us, but even with the struggles, how this is just proving that we are stronger in getting one more week after another on this road.  It is just the worrying that compounds itself on me.  I worry about you not moving for a long time, it is like holding my breath between your kicks and squirms and when you do finally make yourself felt I can sigh for a bit, but then the worry starts again.  I worry about the little dampness/leaky sensations I experience all the time.  Yes, it is just my leaky bladder which I think you are sitting right on, but after three bloody gushes anytime I feel like a little leak my thoughts go reeling to a quick prayer of, “please God make it just pee.”  Gross to pray for peeing myself a little, but that is indeed an answered prayer.  Recently now I worry about my blood sugar.  In 2010 I worried about it being too low and passing out in front of a classroom.  Now I worry about it being too high and impacting you, silently without my being aware of that happening.  I have had twinges of pain.  I assume it is round ligament pain, which is what it sure seems to be, but when it hits, it is scary because it hurts.  Then there is the lower back pain, which also makes sense given how I am getting bigger, but back pain can also be a red flag so when that hits, of course I whisper another little prayer, “just let it being stretching pain.”  I get some pulling/cramping sensations at times in my vagina, which again would just be part of the whole changing body thing…but it causes worry.  I worry when I have diarrhea (worse than my abnormal normal) and feel like something has to be wrong there.  I worry about money because I am not making what I was hoping to and we certainly have a lot of expenses.  I worry about my job as I need to still be valuable there while also being able to be covered.  I love the interaction with people there, so being there is good but I still feel cut off as I am not there enough to be in the know.  I am worried about being a good mom.  I am worried about being a good wife.  I am worried our government’s “peaceful transfer of power” that is looming like the ending of the “Titanic” – you know what is going to happen and none of it is good.  I am worried about the “Mangey Mommy” coyote who I want so very much for her to make it through winter.  I worry about Aunt D as her dog is old and having the up and down days in his elder years.  I worry about Ivy and her remaining as healthy as possible for as long as possible…which is what I also worry about for all four grandparents.  And believe me I could go on.  I know that worrying is not great for you, so I try to counter that by thinking of things I am grateful for and imagining holding you.  I try.  I have always – always – struggled with anxiety and this storm of worry is feeding on that tendency.  And that storm went F5 tornado with my emotional upheaval last night.

When your dad finished painting he sat alone in the living room watching TV quietly in the dark.  I went in to find him there and felt so distant.  I think feeling distant from him is more painful and upsetting than the comment was.  That atmospheric shift was still thick and I was still clinging to the hope he would apologize for saying what he said.  He didn’t and the coolness persisted.  I had him come back to the family room since Ivy doesn’t do the living room and Ivy is good medicine for him.  We went back there and sat in our usual spots.  We passed the time and watched something on TV, although I wasn’t really watching.  Finally when I went to bed I tried to put my best foot forward and act like I was fine, but I still wasn’t….part of me still isn’t now.  We did our grateful thing and said goodnight.  He asked if I was still mad at him and I said I wasn’t mad, just sad.  I told him he hurt my feelings.  I don’t like to tell him when he hurts my feelings because it isn’t often at all, so I would rather focus on all the good.  But my feelings were deeply hurt and still hurting so I said it.  He just pulled the door to a crack and went to sleep on the couch.  I laid there and cried as quietly as I could.  It wasn’t an ugly cry, but it was enough to keep me wide awake as I felt so lonely and so cold.  I tried to read but my stomach was churning.  So after an hour I went and ate some string cheese and sat on the couch with your dad.  I just wanted to feel close…but it was late and he was trying to get sleep so I went back to bed.  It was just a rough night.  I tried to sleep, but it was only in spurts.  This morning I feel tired, but I can’t imagine resting.  I just need to get dressed and get out there.  Time heals and with some time I will be fine, but the hurt and the upset is still there like a hangover.  Since I have been reading Game of Thrones there is a line in there “fear cuts deeper than swords” – yes.  True.  My fear is running a little wild and I need to get it in check.  I think there things I should let go of with regards to the worry list.  That is easier said than done, but if I can keep up with taking things easy and praying with my heart full of hope that will help.  Since I am still in my emotional hangover mode, I need to wrap this up and get on with my day.  I also need to eat something healthy for breakfast.  I think I will hard boil some eggs.

So that is where I am – trying to get things figured out and moving ahead.

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