Sooooo, maybe it wasn’t just the Slurpee and apple pie that did me in for the glucose test last week. I got the call at the beginning of this week saying that I in fact had the betes. How come the only complications I’m running into during the pregnancy are ones that can potentially harm the baby?! Well, I am getting that silly carpal-tunnel thing in my right hand which is starting to blow. I guess that’s not really affecting little Groot. But it sucks trying to open a bag a chips when you’re hand is becoming too weak to do so! I just want some damn chips!
Anyway, so yes, the betes. I always assumed gestational diabetes was a lifestyle thing, like, you only got it if you were unhealthy or overweight and not taking care of yourself. So when I first heard I might have it, I immediately imagined myself as a fat slob. But turns out genes plays a part in there so while yes, my fruit juice addiction definitely contributed to my high blood sugar, it wasn’t the only thing. My hormones just want to block insulin to Baby Groot for some reason. My body needs to get it’s ish together.
So now I get to poke my finger 4 times a day (sometimes more when my stupid fingers decide they don’t want to give me enough blood) and test my blood sugars. Once in the morning before eating anything and then 1hr after each meal. Everytime I do it, I feel like Seymore from Little Shop of Horrors.
I’ve only recorded my sugars for 1 day so far and so far, every reading has been much much lower than the maximum number in the range the doctor gave me to look out for. Which led me to believe that the initial tests were flukey and there was nothing actually wrong with me (my levels weren’t super high to begin with…apparently I just failed the tests with levels just over the maximum number in the range). To which my co-worker said “It’s probably lower because you haven’t been eating sugar.” Pfft. What does he know.
So for now, I compensate fruit juice with Crystal Light, am still allowed fruit, and am hoping that things are normal enough that I can cheat a little during my showers next month. But I tell you, when you’re not allowed to eat a cookie, is when you really want that cookie.