Hip Hip Hooray!

We went to the doctor today to find out that all is well with the baby girl. I don't know exactly what I was expecting. I think something along the lines of this...

When we arrive at the office, they slap a giant sticker on my forehead that says "THIS LADY HAS GESTATIONAL DIABETES!! MAKE WAY!!" Then they weigh me and all the nurses murmur to each other about how fat and unhealthy I am. They ask me about my blood sugar numbers and I show them my records, then they all gasp in horror and run off to find the nearest doctor with an insulin needle. No one will let me even look at the midwife, because clearly I'm in need of a much more serious doctor, and you know what, while they're at it, they're just going to cut me open right there in the office and take this poor, forsaken baby OUT...just to be safe.

So, that's NOT what happened at all! It turns out I've only gained one pound in the last three weeks (gee, I wonder why), but my belly has grown exactly the number of inches it's supposed to have grown, which means the baby is exactly the size she's supposed to be. When I told them about the three times my blood sugar was high, they almost laughed at me. Apparently I consider high to be, oh...I don't know...ANY points above where they told me to be (i.e. 121 is too high if you're supposed to be at 120)! Turns out, this is not the case, especially since I was able to tell them exactly why it was high. I was very apologetic and I promised I would try to figure out what I'm really supposed to be eating (I discovered that an apple for lunch makes my numbers higher than strawberries - now I know!) and the nurse said, "Honey, by the time you figure it out you'll have already delivered that baby. Don't worry."

Phew! So it looks like I won't have to go on insulin (thank GOD) and I won't have to see the doctor every week quite yet. I'm still good with my bi-weekly appointments for a while. All is well in the world of diet and finger stabbing. I might even have a small bite of cake at my shower this weekend...who knows?!

Look at My New Toy!

I spent all morning at the hospital learning about gestational diabetes and I have to say, the science behind all of this is fascinating! I learned how to count my carbs and plan my meals, and I learned how to jab myself in the finger hard enough to DRAW BLOOD four times a day. I get to use this little baby...

Oooooh, shiny!

The big blue "pen" has a tiny drum inside with six tiny needles (and those babies aren't cheap), then the little canister has the strips that soak up the blood (again, it gets pricey when you do it four times a day - good thing this will only last for ten more weeks). The giant video game-like gadget beeps a bunch and then pops up a number when it's done doing...whatever the heck it does inside there.

I'll try to explain this meal plan and blood sucking schedule as succinctly as possible, so bear with me:

Before Breakfast - check blood sugar (lovingly referred to around our house as "BS.") It has to be between 60 and 90 mg/dl - I don't know what dl stands for. If it's low, I have to start getting up in the middle of the night to eat something. I'm fairly certain I'll never be too low.

Breakfast - 2 carbohydrates (15 g of carbs = 1 serving, so 30 g at breakfast). These carbs have to come from a starch (most likely toast) and a milk. I also need 1-2 servings of meat or protein, which I can get from an egg or peanut butter, and 1 serving of fat, which comes in peanut butter or margarine. Looks like my only two choices for breakfast are: an egg with toast and milk, or a slice of toast with peanut butter and milk. Notice how neither of those opitons include cereal (no matter how high fiber) or orange juice (this is where I drop to the floor, kicking and screaming and throwing a major hissy fit). *Hefty sigh*

2 hours after breakfast - check bs, it has to be lower than 120 mg/dl.

AM Snack - 1 carb (15 g), 1 meat/protein. Luckily, I have South Beach Diet granola bars that will be perfect for snacks. Exactly 15 g of carbs and lots of protein. Hoorah!!

Lunch - 3 -4 carbs, and now they have to come from 2 starches, 1 fruit, and 1 milk. I also need 2 servings of meat/protein and 1 fat. I guess I'll be packing lots of sandwiches, salads and soups for lunch. Lean Cuisines are OUT - they have way too many carbs and prepackaged stuff doesn't digest well.

2 hours after lunch - check bs, it has to be lower than 120 mg/dl. This will be the tricky one, since I'm usually in the middle of teaching writing at this time. I might just make my students stop everything they're doing and WATCH ME! The boys will think it's cool.

PM Snack - 1 carb (15 g) and 1 meat/protein. Cheese, peanut butter crackers, granola bar - snacks will NOT be a problem!

Dinner - 3-4 carbs, including THREE starches (this was hard to do tonight) and 1 milk, plus some non-starchy vegetables. I also need 3 servings of meat/protein and 1 fat. Our usual dinners include meat, veggies and starch, but we don't eat nearly enough starches - usually just cous cous or homemade garlic bread. This will be a good place for me to start loving lentils.

2 hours after dinner - check bs, it has to be lower than 120.

Bedtime snack - 2 carbs (30 g) and 1 meat/protein. I have no idea what I'm going to do here other than more peanut butter. I refuse to eat half of a ham sandwich before I go to bed! Tonight I'm having yogurt. I have lots of popcorn, but those aren't nearly enough to cover 2 carbs and a meat/protein. Sheesh! I'll have to wait and see what my morning bs tells me. As long as I'm in the 60 - 90 range, I'm not going to worry about what I eat at night.

So there you have it, folks. And now....for the SHOW!

Jabbing myself in the fleshy part of the finger.
It really doesn't hurt at all. In fact, learning how to do it was not unlike learning how to put your contacts in for the first time. You flinch for a second because you think it's going to be terrible, then you hear a click, and you're all, "That was it? That was so wuss. I'm about to give birth, I can handle this crap."

If you're into vampires, I guess this might be sexy. I'm not, I think blood's gross and should stay inside our bodies at all time. Alas, it is pretty fun to squeeze out a little drop.

The vampire machine soaks up the blood and...wham, bam, thank you ma'am! It flashes a giant number at you that you hope is less that 120. Tonight I was 102! Hip Hip Hooray!

So far today, all of my levels have been just fine. It looks like this is going to be one big diet and blood sucking party for ten whole weeks. "Invite your friends! Rachael's gonna stab herself again!" The good news is, I'll learn how to eat better, and who doesn't want to do that? Oh, and the better news is...

I'll have a healthy baby!

And I can just hear myself saying, "Young lady! Do you have ANY IDEA what I had to GO THROUGH to GET YOU HERE?" And she'll be all, "Yeah, mom, you had to poke yourself in the finger four times a day. I KNOW, you TELL ME ALL THE TIME!" Ahhhh....that'll be the day.

I'm Just Too Sweet for My Own Good!

Well, it's official - I have Gestational Diabetes. (It sounds so ugly!) I'm not even borderline, either. I flat out FAILED every blood test by a lot of points. I knew this was a possibility and I've been preparing for it ever since the first test, but I still cried after talking to the nurse this morning. It's not fun, all this talk about monitors and glucose and insulin. I immediately called my Mom and she was able to calm me down a little bit, but it sure did make for a rough day. My poor kids were probably wondering why their teacher was acting like a nut-case on the verge of tears all day.

I have to go to a class on Thursday (at 9am - who holds a class at 9am for people who work?! I know I'm not the only working pregnant woman going to this hospital - get with the program, people!) where they teach me how to use the monitor and check my blood sugar levels four times a day. I have to eat at least six times a day, 3 meals with snacks in between, and I have to meet with a dietician to figure out how many carbs I'm allowed to have and how much protien I should eat. Then, if diet doesn't control my blood sugar levels, I have to start taking insulin shots and seeing a special "at risk" doctor (here's where I start crying because that FREAKS ME OUT). There's a chance I could have a monstrously huge baby, which isn't the worst thing in the world, but let's face it, that would be scary. "At risk" doctor + big baby = C-section. I know I have to be ready for that and I'm not happy about it.

The hardest part about all of this is the enormous feeling of guilt I have over the whole thing. Perhaps I should not have had my Starbucks latte every other Friday morning. Perhaps I should not have eaten that entire package of Rice-Krispie treats from Kroger's bakery during week 15. Perhaps I should not have had that cream soda float when everyone else was drinking beer so I thought I deserved a treat. Perhaps I should not have been drinking a huge glass of orange juice every morning (oh, that one kills me - I've been loving my OJ). When I think about my eating habits, I always thought I was eating healthy, especially when it came to carbs. We have NO simple carbs in our house! All of our pasta and bread is whole wheat or multi-grain, none of my cereal is the sugary kind - it's all Fiber One and Rasin Bran around here - and I pack granola bars to snack on at school every day. Sylvain cooks super nutritious dinners every night, but apparently, that's not good enough. I feel like a complete failure and I haven't even become a real mother yet. I'm not supposed to feel this way until I find drugs in my daughter's sock drawer!

I know this is a totally managable problem, and I know that we'd be lucky if this is the biggest problem we have. Lots of people have told me not to worry, everything's going to be fine, I just have to change a few things and all will be well...but still. It sucks. I've been feeling so healthy all this time, and I don't feel any different physcially, but when I hear the words "gestational diabetes" I feel unhealthy, like there must be something wrong with me.

Lucky for me, my husband is just as much of an information-a-holic as I am and his first reaction was, "We'll read all we can about it and make the best of it." It also helped that my Mom sent me a gigantic email with four numbered points about how "not so bad" this whole thing really is. I know I'll feel better after this class with the dietician on Thursday. Until then I'll just stare blankly into the refrigerator and second-guess everything I put into my mouth. Oh well. I guess it could be worse.