Things that have happened in week 35:

I got my first stretch marks. Sigh. And they now seem to be everywhere. It was bound to happen, but can I get a communal booooo?

I went over my lunch blood sugar limits twice– on the same meal I had eaten within limits earlier in the week. This led to a type of in-depth analysis, that involved researching peaches, discovering that riper fruit has a higher glycemic index than unripe fruit (which would mean if you were to try to minimize GI, you would avoid ripe fruit, a fact which blew my sense of reason), and had a minor meltdown.

I went over my dinner blood sugar limits three times. Which led to some despair, discovering that chicken sausage has 11 grams of sugar, discovering exactly how much variation there can be in carbs in an ear of corn, a good moment of utter despair thinking that my nursing staff would require me to go on medication and then picture that in the worst light possible, and as you can imagine, a less-minor meltdown.

I tripped in front of a crowd of over a hundred– making a gasping noise that I have never before witnessed. I also learned there is very little ways to actually convince people that you are fine, and a bruised knee does not mean I am going into labor.

I went to my gestational diabetes appointment and remembered how kind and reasonable my nursing staff really is. In talking through, they were not as concerned about the over numbers as I was, and we came up with a plan for the next week. Win!

I went to a regular OB appointment. Because I now do that every week

I got an ultrasound that showed baby girl at a lovely 47th percentile for weight, which should mean that if I can manage GD these next few weeks, they shouldn’t be concerned about her being too big. Yay!

I got a little sick of doctors appointments.

All in all, a rather exhausting week. And for anyone with gestational diabetes out there, can I have a shout out for how tiring it is to have your psyche tied up with a number that you check four-five times a day? Yikes! I’m guessing pregnancy hormones also don’t help the “a high number is the end of the world” spiral I can work myself into.

Tomorrow starts week 36 which makes me:
1 week from “they don’t stop labor”
4 weeks from due date and
5 weeks from “baby will be here no matter what”

It’s getting real!

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