Last Tuesday, I was given the unforgettable opportunity to drink 50 grams of syrupy glucose in 5 minutes, on an empty stomach, with the stipulation that I must keep it down for at least an hour. Sounds like fun, right? This stuff was pretty toxic- imagine fruit punch concentrate that you've somehow managed to concentrate even further. Just thinking about it makes my tummy a little swishy.
I made it about halfway, taking little sips before the nausea and gagging set in. Paul reminded me that I only had 2 more minutes to finish this bottle of disgusting-ness, so I chugged the rest and declared that it was staying put. Once was bad enough, and the lab tech warned me that if I threw it up, I'd have to start over. No beuno.
While we were waiting to have my blood drawn, I saw my Ob-Gyn for a quick check-up. Everything looked great with the babies, but she bumped my visits to every other week just to keep a closer eye on my blood pressure and swelling. As we were leaving to head back to the lab, she said we'd only get a call if my blood glucose level was too high. The whole no-news-is-good-news thing just doesn't work for me, so I called on Wednesday to see if the results were back. My blood sugar was 123 mg/dL (<140is normal), so I passed- I am officially Gestational Diabetes free. Knowing I don't have to suffer through the 3-4 hour retest almost makes the fruit punch from hell worth it. Almost... but not quite.