This is the way my brain has been lately. My energy tank is beginning to really run low, multi-tasking has become more of a challenge and my memory skills are similar to Dory’s in FINDING NEMO. I ask questions over and over again (it’s not that I forget the answer… I even forget I asked the question to begin with), I look for my glasses while I’m wearing them and lately, I’ll walk through the office with no clue of where I’m going. The other day, I was thinking how not filling my lunch was… only to realize I forgot to actually eat the lunch.
I’m 29 weeks pregnant today. It’s the start of my third trimester and clearly, my brain and body are behaving like a thirteen-year-old girl who doesn’t want to do any chores. “Ummm, like, you aren’t expecting us to do anything right now, are you? Cause like I’m good here on the couch. TTYL!”
In addition to laziness, lack of organizational skills and memory loss, I’m also finding that sex is becoming less and less appealing to me. At the end of last week, I sat my husband down and told him to think of my sex drive as a store that’s recently lost its lease. We’re having an, “Everything Must Go” sale in the next week but after that, we’re out of business. That’s right – if you act now, you can get two hand jobs for the price of one! Snuggling not included.
What’s also not helping matters is I took my gestational diabetes test and I was, allegedly, borderline. I say ‘allegedly’ because I’ve been tracking my blood sugar since the diagnosis and I have yet to come up with even one remotely questionable result. So far, the special diet I’m on (what do you MEAN I can’t have pumpkin pie???) and the sticking my finger four times a day seems pretty damn pointless. And after going through IVF quite frankly, I think I’ve stuck myself enough with needless to deem myself exempt from any further torture. Really – I should have gotten a “Get Out of Needle” free card.
When I took the initial one hour test, the nurses actually forgot about me. When I reminded them of my existence an hour and twenty minutes after I drank that disgusting orange liquid they make you drink, they were like, “Ohhhhh. That’s not good. We have to take the blood exactly an hour after you finished drinking the drink. Otherwise, it’s invalid.” After threatening their lives and the lives of their children, they took my blood anyway since if I failed, I would have failed twenty minutes earlier anyway. If I passed though, I would have to take the one hour again to confirm that I did really pass. Between this and the anatomy scan I had to take three times (not to mention my three in vitros), I can’t help but feel it’s my lot and life to never get anything correct on the first try.
The next morning, when the nurse called to tell me I failed, I was excited since it meant that even though the test got screwed up, it didn’t affect the results. Needless to say, my enthusiasm about having to take the three hour test surprised my nurse. It’s not often you say to a pregnant woman, “You have to fast, stay here for three hours while we take your blood every hour and you have to drink more of that orange crap.” and have the pregnant woman respond with, “That’s great news! When should I come in???”
Something about having an overly positive response to the prospect of gestational diabetes cracked me up so I decided to keep this over-the-top enthusiasm throughout my three hour test. When it came time to drink the drink, I brought my own glass and put a paper umbrella in it. Every hour I had to get my blood drawn, I would say something to the nurse like, “Woo hoo! Take my blood you sexy thing!” or “I can’t wait to see how this hour turns out!” or "Pick a vein! Any vein!" or my personal favorite, “I’m going to put on make-up for our last hour in case we’re taking graduation photos!” I don’t mean to brag but the nurses said I was the most fun patient they ever had for glucose testing. I'm quite proud of this.
Again, the results came back as borderline so they hooked me up with a nutritionist and a glucose testing meter. I’ve managed to keep my humorously positive attitude about it as the diet really isn’t all that bad… it’s just the actual needle finger pricking thing that’s a bit of a drag… especially when it genuinely seems like I don’t have gestational diabetes.
Any which way, I do think the lack of some of my favorite carbs (macaroni & cheese… I’m looking at you) and not being able to indulge in cookies and cake during the holiday season is getting to me. This weekend is my baby shower…something I’ve literally waited my whole life for and I’m telling you now - I'm going to have a cup cake dammit! I know I won’t feel guilty about it though… mainly because I’m sure I’ll forget I even ate a cupcake within an hour.