Congratulations, it’s Gestational Diabetes!
I’ve always been a healthy person. A little more on the slender side, I prefer vegetarian food, actually enjoy exercise, and try not to keep refined sugar in the house. My first pregnancy was fairly straightforward (as straightforward as any individual pregnancy can be for a freaked out first time mom). I lived in Ireland at the time and they do not routinely screen for gestational diabetes unless you have very strong risk factors, which I did not. As far as I know, I never had it during my first.
We moved back to California between our first and second babies. A different country and new risk factors made for a very different experience. I felt like a first time mom all over again! But when the 24 week appointment rolled around, I knew to expect the GD screening lab order, based on the experience of my friends and family.
I’d heard nothing but gross things about it. Between the less-than-rave reviews, having not had it during my first pregnancy, my general good health, and no family history, I put it off. I put it off for, like, two whole weeks. I finally made an appointment to get it out of the way. I shuffled off to the lab, chugged the poison-flavored syrup, and let them poke me after an hour. Much to my surprise, I failed it. I failed it by quite a bit. Go big or go home, am I right?
I was so shocked and immediately googled everything about gestational diabetes, test accuracy, “how did I test positive with no family history”, follow up steps, insulin needle size, on and on and on. The only thing that made me feel better was the sheer volume of stories I read about women failing the first test and passing the second. I went THE next day, hoping I’d be one of them.
The three hour test is no joke. In my opinion, it’s a pretty big ask for a pregnant gal. I was only nauseated for the first hour and a half and after that I felt fine. I got home and I was feeling hopeful that it was behind me.
My obstetrician’s office got back to me in less than eight hours. The nurse very casually told me that I’d failed again, had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and that I’d been referred to a maternal fetal specialist. Yay for me! Don’t we love a pregnancy twist?
No, no we don’t.
I was pretty shell shocked at first, sad after that, endlessly irritated for awhile later. The gestational diabetes diet plan is no fun, especially when you want to enjoy indulging every now and then with your growing appetite. I never thought of myself as a real carbo-loader, but it turns out I relied on my grains, beans, and fruits more than I realized.
I didn’t feel good for weeks. I blame the diet adjustments, the uptick in exercise (required to manage my numbers), the needle stress, and diagnosis depression. I blamed myself, convinced I’d done something wrong. Anytime one of my finger pricks showed a less than perfect number, I panicked that I was hurting my baby. I had a hard time gaining weight. It was a bad place to be.
Eventually it all settled out and became routine. I bought a snack tray for my stroller, so my daughter could eat lunch while I burned off the sugars from mine. My husband exercised with me in the morning and evenings to show support. What to eat for breakfast and nighttime snack (my notoriously sugary times) became automatic. I even became thankful for the mindfulness and productivity that it brought, if you can believe it.
Everyone says that it goes away as soon as the baby is born. For me, it took about a month. Totally lame, but I got there in the end. Just a few weeks ago, I passed my two hour follow up glucose test. I’m hopeful that GlucoSoda or GlucoFresh (or whatever cute name they try to fool us with) and I won’t meet again for a long, long time, and I’m ok with getting screened for Type 2 diabetes every year or so from now on. I’ll use it as an excuse to get a physical and continue taking care of myself.
Pregnancy can feel a little isolating at times, and being blindsided by an unexpected diabetes diagnosis can make you feel even more alone. I didn’t think I had any risk factors—turned out I had an aunt that also had it. (Thank you everyone I’m related to for keeping that one to yourselves.) Only one of my friends had it, but everyone my husband talked to seemed to have had the same experience. Apparently, it’s more common than I first understood it to be.
So, I’m sharing this to be reassuring. What felt scary to me at first became normal life and little more than an occasional nuisance, and perhaps now I eat more balanced because of it. In the end, your baby is always worth the headache, your body is amazing at recovering, it doesn’t hurt to up the protein intake, and you find out which of your aunts keeps secrets (only kidding!). We’re amazing and you’ll make it through this.
My name is Dana, and I live in the Bay Area along with my husband and two daughters. I was a professional baker, turned traveler, turned professional wellness girl, turned amateur herbalist, turned stay at home mom and amateur writer. I’m always looking to learn and become something new, but being a mom is my favorite so far. If I have a spare moment to myself, you’ll most likely find me doing yoga, writing, or reading a quick chapter from a fantasy novel involving castles and/or magic (preferably both!).