Yeah, I failed my three hour glucose test, fair and square. I've never gone through the five stages of grief and loss so clearly and poignantly.
That first week, I checked my blood sugar relentlessly and every time it was reasonable, I got this smug little sense of satisfaction. Ha! I demanded a repeat of the first test. Well, we know how that turned out.
First of all, don't get me started about the fact that I didn't get any Halloween candy, because I will break something. But let me tell you, after I couldn't pretend anymore that my blood sugar isn't high, I was diligent about doing internet research to support my position that even if I DO have gestational diabetes, well, it's actually better for the baby NOT to treat it, and I announced my findings to Jeff, loudly and insistently. I built a very good case. I learned something else, too. You can find tons of internet research that will support whatever crazy ass idea pops into your head. For instance, I didn't know this, but apparently sucralose and aspartame can KILL your baby. So can flax, Dramamine, getting pedicures, using a laptop every day, using anti-biotics to treat your urinary tract infection, not using anti-biotics to treat your urinary tract infection, being pessimistic, working as a nurse, and drinking green tea. I don't have time to link you to all this stuff, as I'm too busy either working as a nurse or sitting on my couch with my laptop drinking sucralose-sweetened green tea while feeling deeply pessimistic. And getting pedicures.
Me: (sobbing) Jeff, do you think I could just have one Pepsi, like on Fridays or something, as a reward for getting through the week?
Jeff: (quietly) Well, Honey, that's up to you…
Me: You wouldn't let me have ONE PEPSI???!!! (see Anger, above)
Leann (a particularly young, cheerful, energetic nurse's aide): Hey, Jayne, there's pizza and Pepsi in the break room!
Me: How nice.
Leann: By the way, I think your patient pulled out his IV so he could go down to the patio and smoke.
Leann: Didn't he just have a heart attack?
Me: It doesn't matter. Practically nothing matters.
I am getting there. I do not eat the chocolates at the nurse's station. I do not order sodas. Everyone at work knows not to offer me a slice of cake. I walk fast through the produce section. Sometimes I visit the pixie stix on the candy aisle, just to let them know I still care.
So far my blood sugars are running ok. No further complication that we know about, but we will see what happens in the next few weeks.