Doctor appointment: Diabetic screening/glucose tolerance test (GTT)

I passed my second glucose test, the three hour GTT! I was so nervous about it. After the first test this week, I didn’t eat anything that would be considered a sweet, not even one bite of my usual suspects. I didn’t even want to have a Lifesaver. I had a sandwich for lunch that day and soup and salad that night. The next day I had a piece of peanut butter toast and milk for breakfast and a bagel sandwich for lunch. Then I came to find out that carbohydrates were the real culprit in increasing your blood glucose level, so what I had thought was being good actually wasn’t. Not only am I addicted to sweets right now, even not pregnant, my diet is jam packed with carbs!

I was on a quest to find some foods that were good for me to be eating to manage my carb and sugar intake. I wanted to control all the things I could control to pass this test. Whether or not it actually helped any on test day, I’m not sure, but I felt better about doing it. I went to the grocery store on Tuesday night on a mission and picked up some random things I had learned were within healthy boundaries (or better) for a diabetic diet. I got into my car and tore violently into the high protein/low carb/low sugar granola I had found. My actions confirmed what I already knew: I was having withdrawal from all things sweet, going a little insane. I could not get that granola into my mouth fast enough. It took all of my power to try and stick to the serving size, a measly 1/4 cup. All of my power. For dinner that night, Bran Flakes. I had an apple and Bran Flakes the next morning for breakfast and the same cereal again for lunch until my special treat of lentil soup for dinner. My snacks consisted of puffed corn cereal, almonds, sugar free Jell-o and the aforementioned granola.

Granted, I know if I had some guidance, hopefully the diet wouldn’t be this strict, but still, limit my carb intake? Analyze the amount of sugar going into my body? Dieting while pregnant? “A lifestyle change, not a diet,” you say? Phooey. I’ll have plenty of time once this baby comes to try and figure out how to shed these extra pounds. I’m screwed. Check out some of the labels on things you are eating and you will be amazed at just how many grams of carbohydrates and sugar they contain. Maybe that’s why I have an affinity for all the non-labeled stuff!

Anyway, I’ll get off of the food subject. Wait, back on it for a minute. I was trying to figure out what to bring to pass the time during my appointment and I ended up with one of my new cookbooks I had received for Christmas. This was a mistake since I hadn’t eaten anything since 7:30 the night prior and my mouth was watering the entire time my eyes locked on all the yummy pictures. I don’t know what I would have done had I failed and not been able to indulge in all the things I had just read about.

There were four phases of the test (four readings of my blood glucose level) I had to pass today. I could only fail one; if there were more, I would be considered a gestational diabetic. The first finger prick was for my fasting glucose level and I passed. The level needed to be less than 95 and mine was 82. (I found out that for my test on Monday, the level needed to be less than 140 and mine was 150.) I drank my morning cocktail, the glucose drink (I opted for fruit punch this time since it didn’t fail me when I was pregnant with Mirabella), and waited the hour until the second finger prick and analysis of my blood glucose level. The level for that phase needed to be less than 180; I passed with 145. I wondered why the woman taking my blood offered me the use of a recliner and was asking if my baby was doing somersaults because of the sugar high. They weren’t as concerned during my previous test on Monday. Then she explained that the drink for Monday’s test contained 50 grams of glucose and today’s was double at 100. No wonder I was looped up. I didn’t need the recliner, but the bambino was having a gay ol’ time bouncing off the walls of my stomach.

I was just getting through the heavenly cinnamon roll recipe when my timer was about to go off for the third phase of testing. I headed to the lab and my doctor happened to walk by while I was in the chair. He asked how I was doing and I told him that I’d be doing better if I wasn’t there. Then he gave me the good news that if I passed this phase, I wouldn’t have to do the last and could go home. I don’t know what level I needed to be under or what level I was at, but I was where I needed to be and was set free…one sixty minute timer and one finger prick early! As my doctor walked away from our conversation saying he’d see me in a couple weeks I couldn’t resist my parting words, “Does this mean I can have ice cream tonight?”

“And in the morning too!” he replied. Now that's a good doctor.

Doctor appointment: Diabetic screening/glucose test

I failed my first glucose test. Dang! I thought I was going to cry I was so shocked. I was given the orange glucose drink (basically sugar water) at my last appointment and have been staring at it in our fridge until this morning came. Within a few minutes it was gone (it has to be within five) and an hour later I was at my clinic being tested. The woman who pricked my finger said that my hemoglobin looked good, so I suppose I assumed my glucose would too. Jeff and I waited for the nurse practitioner to come into the room to tell us the result, figuring it’d be a short and sweet conversation. She greeted us and then said, “Well, your test didn’t come back so good.” It was definitely not what we were expecting to hear and I wasn’t prepared for feeling so bummed out about it. “I guess I shouldn’t have had that chocolate cake last night,” I said to her, but was relieved when she told me it actually has less to do with my diet than it does with my hormones. Whew! However, if it turns out I fail the next test, my diet will have to change. Oh, and I gained two pounds since my previous appointment.

I haven’t had any sweets since my appointment this morning and I have been losing my mind a little. It’s not that I can’t technically right now, but I thought I’d give it a try. I have realized I just may do better if I was a crack addict giving up crack. How can a person, a pregnant woman nonetheless, give up sweets? On a typical day I can’t get cookies and cake and candy and ice cream and anything ooey and gooey and chocolaty off my mind, but now that I am trying to restrain myself, and even just as my own little test, oh my gosh! I can hardly stand it. I’m sick to my stomach and shaking a little thinking about sweets and worse, about possibly having to give them up!

I’ll go in for a second screening, a three hour glucose tolerance test (GTT), on Thursday (Thursday, January 28th) to see if I have gestational diabetes. I’ll have my finger pricked when I arrive at the clinic and then I’ll drink the glucose drink. I’ll carry a timer (I’m picturing Flava Flav--->) and wait there for an hour, have my finger pricked, wait another hour, have my finger pricked, wait another hour and have my finger pricked again. And I don’t even get a sucker? All kidding aside, of course our baby’s health is my main concern and I’m more than willing to do whatever it takes to bring him or her here healthy. Mostly, I’m afraid of the prospect of what gestational diabetes could mean for both our baby and me later on. About 50% of pregnant women who have it will develop type 2 diabetes after pregnancy and children are at higher risk for the disease as well. I’ll be given the results the day of the test, so hopefully my next post will be good news…

Photos: 28 weeks

Hang the streamers! Bring out the balloons!

I have entered my third trimester! Obviously I’m the only one excited about it since no one realized it besides me (Insert pity party here. I can hear the violins, can you?), but as of Sunday, January 17th, I am 28 weeks pregnant. And yes, I am excited! Although there is no party planned, we are having Chipotle and these days, that counts for something. I think I’ll get some ice cream too. I discovered a new flavor, ONE Cheesecake Brownie and it proved dangerous. Jeff and I split a pint the other day, which means he had 1/10 of it while I devoured the rest. Don’t let him kid you though, that boy can eat ice cream. It usually takes him two sittings to polish off a pint whereas in most cases, it takes me three sittings while pregnant to do that kind of damage.

Oh, and since we’re (do you like how I brought you all into this “conversation”?) talking ice cream…is it too much to ask for someone to get me some salted caramel ice cream from Bi-Rite Creamery? Soon? Or maybe NOW? I’d almost consider a plane ticket to San Francisco for some of that deliciousness. Unfortunately they don’t deliver. I checked. I know a place that does though if ever any of you is itching to shell out too much dough on a gift of ice cream for me; just ask and I’d be happy to provide you with that information. I mean come on, it’s the third trimester for crying out loud! I made it! (Ice cream delivery also makes a wonderful gift for just having a baby, coming home from just having a baby, one month anniversaries of having a baby, Mother’s Day and birthdays.)


There are 12 more weeks until my due date, April 11th, but hopefully it’ll actually be about 11 weeks until our babe arrives. Every day shaved off is great by me at that point since at 37 weeks, our baby will be considered full term. My next doctor appointment is on Monday (Monday, January 25th) where I’ll do my glucose test. Hopefully I don’t fail after all that ice cream I’m imagining getting sent to me over the weekend.

Doctor appointment: 26 weeks

Happy 2010! I have officially been pregnant for the last three years...well, during a period of the last three years anyway! On Sunday (Sunday, January 3rd) I reached my 26th week of pregnancy. Mostly when I think about it, things have gone rather quickly. Even so, April feels like an eternity away sometimes. Three months until we meet our baby. Three months is a long wait. Then I look at my belly and three months seems unreal. How can I be this big and still have so much longer to go? When we met with my doctor yesterday (Tuesday, January 5th), I couldn’t resist telling him I thought he must have done something wrong. Surely he missed that I was having twins! Dr. Chow laughed and assured me that there was no way he missed one and could guarantee that I was only having one baby. “This time,” he added with a shady grin.

My appointment was fairly straight forward. We heard our baby’s heart beating perfectly. I received my glucose water for my diabetic screening at my next appointment with a nurse practitioner. I’ve had a couple more migraines lately, but there was no major concern about those, or headaches in general, with my blood pressure being normal. I measured right on track. My doctor placed special emphasis on this point since I told him, "Everyone thinks I’m huge!" Rest assured everyone (he told me to tell you all), my size is perfectly normal. By the look of my stomach though, I can’t really blame anyone for thinking I’m larger than average. Heck, my own husband has looked at my belly and said, “That’s full-term!” more than a couple times.

And let me tell you something else: it wasn’t a good idea to tell Jeff how much I weighed. I was feeling pretty darn good about my five pound weight gain at this appointment. I received the eight pound shock during the last one, so I guess I was assuming I'd receive similar news this time. And with the holidays, I thought for sure I had gained ten. So when five pounds was the increment, I was kind of pleased. When I met up with Jeff again after my weigh in, I told him I gained five pounds. Then (obviously without really thinking) I said, “I weigh XXX.” Big mistake.

“What? No. Are you serious? Oh my gosh! You’re going to start giving me a run for my money! That’s more than you weighed at the end of your entire pregnancy last time, isn’t it?!” Even his smiling while asking didn’t make me feel better. Maybe that made it worse. “NO! I weighed more than that with Mirabella! I gained like 38 pounds with her (maybe it was 39).” And he still thought I weighed less at the end last time than I do now---I don’t know if I was bothered, or if I was actually flattered that he thought I only weighed XXX when I got pregnant with Mirabella!

Bottom line: don’t state your total pregnancy weight to your husband. There is just no reason to. You will be going about your business, packing on the pounds and not worrying much about it really. Amniotic fluid? Two pounds. Increased blood volume? Go ahead and throw on four. Make out with a few McMuffins...weekly? Tack a couple more on. You wanna look at a cookie? That’ll cost you. You know it’s temporary (or so you hope), so who really cares what the scale says? Well...your husband does. Not that he is going to go around telling people you are a fat lard, and not that he necessarily thinks you are a fat lard, but he’s thinking about that number. Yeah, that one. The one the scale said. He’s trying to wrap his head around that number. He’s in disbelief; could you really be that number? The worst part is that I probably could have convinced him I weighed 125 right now and he wouldn’t have known otherwise! But now he knows I weigh XXX and now I’m going to have to buy more cauliflower and crap. My stupid mouth.