32 Week GTT

Monday, I met with Dr. Killeen to check on the baby's development and growth. He ordered me to take another 3-hour glucose test. Oh, thrill of my life =/

Michael has Tuesdays as half days, which means that he gets here around 11 in the morning. That's why all our doctor's appointments are scheduled for Tuesday afternoons; it allows Michael to come with us or watch the kids, as the situation warrants.

Prior to a 3-hour glucose study, you have to fast for 8 or so hours or when you drink the cup of gag-inducing beverage, you could go into diabetic shock. It's a ton of sugar to take in. Anyways, ideally you fast overnight and head in to take the test first thing in the morning as that supposedly makes it easiest. It doesn't really, but you know--whatever helps.

But I can't go in first thing in the morning--I have to watch the kids until Michael gets off of work; when he gets off, he can drop me off and stay with Emerald and Gabriel. That means that the latest I can have anything to eat is 4 am if I am going to start the test at noon. The only thing I can have after 4 is infrequent sips of water until the test is completed.

Monday night we have dinner as usual at 7; and for once, I sleep like a rock--not waking frequently as I normally do, which means that dinner was the last food I had before the test.

Fortunately for me, ice water makes my stomach settle and feel less starving. When Michael gets home, he takes me by sonic and gets me a big 32 oz cup of ice to tide me over through the test, and drops me off.

First goes the urinalysis, and when that checks out they draw the first vial of blood. My choices today are a student or a digger. (A digger is someone that will miss the vein when they stick the needle in and then dig around with it, or wiggle it back and forth until they hit the vein instead of taking it out and trying again. I hate those people.) I end up getting the digger. Which I suppose doesn’t matter that much—I’m going to be in a foul mood either way.

Before you say “maybe if you kept a positive attitude….”—there are some things in life that you don’t have to be cheerful about; needle pokes is one of them.

I ask if there is any other flavor in the whole entire world that I can have besides the fruit punch. She informs me that yes! Technically they have two choices:

Either I can drink the fruit punch glucose drink OR
I could drink two full cups of the orange flavored abomination because it is made for the one hour.

=/

Oh, eff you. Just hand me the fruit punch. -grumble grumble jerk-

The ice was a godsend; I wish I had thought of it before this test to have made all the other tests easier. Because the drink makes me so hot from the inside out, the ice helps me feel cooler internally which equals less sick. The only downside was that eating ice also makes me quite cold, which caused me to start shivering in the waiting room. If I am cold I am less likely to vomit, but the shivering was jostling the delicate contents of my tummy.

You might wonder how this drink that makes me so miserable would affect the baby growing inside me. It makes him wiggle and dance, which means that in the position he is currently in, he kicks my stomach enthusiastically with his little baby legs. Since this week there is a decrease in amniotic fluid to allow for more space for Ben, I felt every slightest readjustment.

I'm such an infant, but the moment I finished the glucose drink, I started crying. I was all alone and didn't want to do this stupid thing. At the beginning of the test, I hadn't eaten in 16 or 17 hours.

It actually turned out to be fairly uneventful. There was a woman that was doing the same test--I could hear her complaining to her husband about how hard it was and how sick it made her (which I couldn't fault her for)--but when she was done, she stood up in the waiting room and spritzed herself liberally with a very sweet smelling perfume.

Question: when did it become okay to do things like that outside the bathroom?! Seriously--you don't know if people are allergic, or just don't want to smell your stinky fragrance, or are sick to their stomach because they just started a test that you have just completed and don't want to throw up and have to come back another day. Maybe it is just me, but to me that was incredibly rude. I wanted to say something, but if I opened my mouth she would have fruit punch barf all over her shoes.

So classy, I know.

At one point a woman probably in her late forties came in and enthusiastically said hi to me, the greeting of someone you haven't run into in a long time and are excited to see...but when I looked up, she realized she had no idea who I was. She sat next to me in awkward silence until she got her blood work done and left. It was funny.

When Ben was getting too mobile, I started singing to him in hopes that he would calm down--he really liked "Carry on My Wayward Son" by Kansas, a song that I used to sing to Gabriel when I was pregnant with him. This may be Ben's third song =)

Since it was now lunchtime, the waiting room cleared out of everyone but me, so I pulled a couple of chairs together in the corner and curled up in fetal position to watch "The Doctors" and rest. I wanted more than anything to sleep, but then I would miss a draw and have to take the test again.

At 2.30, with three pokes down and one left to go, the waiting room door opened and Michael walked in. I was so happy I wanted to start crying again--it was the best surprise. He held me and made fun of "Inside Edition".

When I got home I wasn't that useful--I flopped down on the couch, desperate to sleep (probably because I hadn't eaten in 20 hours at that point. Michael made me eat some whole grain peanut butter crackers before I drifted off, and then whole grain toast and sugar-free cocoa when I woke up.

So for most of you that was probably the most boring story you have ever heard. But nuts to you--it's my blog ;) This morning I called the nurse and technically I failed, but barely barely. There are four numbers they take from the four draws, and you have to fail two numbers to be considered to have gestational diabetes. I was right on the line for the last two numbers (155 and 140). That means that I should be able to control it through diet and exercise, but Dr. Hales will decide if he wants me on an oral medication next Tuesday when I go back in. Mom speculates that my numbers were better than they would have been because I fasted for double the amount of time I was supposed to.

I do have to start the NST's at 34 weeks (which is 2 weeks away), but I only have to do one a week at first, so that's good. I am just ready for the baby to be out and here and cuddly and for me to eat whatever the heck I want!!

But anyways, that's taken care of and we're okay. Benji will be here before we know it.

~Andie~