Today I had to go to the hospital for a loooong session of testing for the Glucose Tolerance Test.
Due to me having a higher BMI than I am supposed to, I could not do the traditional 10 minute Lucozade test that many women get to do with their midwife. Instead, I had the lucky treat of having a more in-depth test that took a delightful THREE AND A HALF HOURS!
It involved not eating or drinking anything besides water from 8pm the previous evening, and then getting up at the crack of dawn, before projectile vomitting out of my car (well some managed to stay in the car to my disgust) on the way to the hospital to have the first blood test (which started late).
I then had to drink a sugary drink that looked like urine. I had hoped it would be Lucozade, but apparently this stuff tests better, so after my earlier vomit I had to try my best to keep it down, as the nurse warned me if I didn't, I would have to redo the test another day. It tasted like wet chalk (if that makes sense), but thankfully it stayed down! I was then told to sit in the reception room for 2 hours.
Yes you read correctly, TWO HOURS. There was me thinking during that time I could go for walks, pop down to the hospital shop for a girlie mag and get some fresh air, but no. The lovely lady told me I was not allowed to leave the stuffy, very busy reception room for the entire two hours. Oh joy.
Now what sort of woman would I be if I didnt allow my beautiful man to share all the experiences of my pregnancy where possible? So of course, I invited him (well, told him) to come with me and enjoy it with me. There was me thinking he could keep me company, but he spent most of the two hours asleep, and the remaining time reading a free newspaper. You gotta love men!
Meanwhile I passed the time comparing the other women's bump shapes and sizes, and staring in horror at a toddler opposite me, who when told by her mother that she had upset her by misbehaving, she proceeded to scream at full pitch and then flop onto the floor, legs and arms spread wide, and having a full on diva tantrum. She then got up and proceeded to pick a lot of the books of the donation shelf and throw a few about, and looking at me of all people for approval.
The girl, who is apparently named Sparkle, was definitely 'sparkly' in character, and my bloke took great pleasure in telling me "this is what you have got to look forward to" which didnt help the old anxiety! But I got my own back, reminding him that it would be ten times worse if our baby is anything like me, and he soon shut up!
So after people watching for two hours and getting a numb bum, we were then called back in and I had another blood test and was told I could get the results tomorrow. As I began salivating at the thought of running out the door to eat my pre-prepared cheese sandwich, the nurse hit me with the lovely news that I will need to repeat this test at 28 weeks!
I cannot wait...
My bloke told me he wasn't coming next time, but as he couldn't quite look me in the eye as he said it, I think he already knows that is just wishful thinking!
Due to me having a higher BMI than I am supposed to, I could not do the traditional 10 minute Lucozade test that many women get to do with their midwife. Instead, I had the lucky treat of having a more in-depth test that took a delightful THREE AND A HALF HOURS!
It involved not eating or drinking anything besides water from 8pm the previous evening, and then getting up at the crack of dawn, before projectile vomitting out of my car (well some managed to stay in the car to my disgust) on the way to the hospital to have the first blood test (which started late).
I then had to drink a sugary drink that looked like urine. I had hoped it would be Lucozade, but apparently this stuff tests better, so after my earlier vomit I had to try my best to keep it down, as the nurse warned me if I didn't, I would have to redo the test another day. It tasted like wet chalk (if that makes sense), but thankfully it stayed down! I was then told to sit in the reception room for 2 hours.
Yes you read correctly, TWO HOURS. There was me thinking during that time I could go for walks, pop down to the hospital shop for a girlie mag and get some fresh air, but no. The lovely lady told me I was not allowed to leave the stuffy, very busy reception room for the entire two hours. Oh joy.
Now what sort of woman would I be if I didnt allow my beautiful man to share all the experiences of my pregnancy where possible? So of course, I invited him (well, told him) to come with me and enjoy it with me. There was me thinking he could keep me company, but he spent most of the two hours asleep, and the remaining time reading a free newspaper. You gotta love men!
Meanwhile I passed the time comparing the other women's bump shapes and sizes, and staring in horror at a toddler opposite me, who when told by her mother that she had upset her by misbehaving, she proceeded to scream at full pitch and then flop onto the floor, legs and arms spread wide, and having a full on diva tantrum. She then got up and proceeded to pick a lot of the books of the donation shelf and throw a few about, and looking at me of all people for approval.
The girl, who is apparently named Sparkle, was definitely 'sparkly' in character, and my bloke took great pleasure in telling me "this is what you have got to look forward to" which didnt help the old anxiety! But I got my own back, reminding him that it would be ten times worse if our baby is anything like me, and he soon shut up!
So after people watching for two hours and getting a numb bum, we were then called back in and I had another blood test and was told I could get the results tomorrow. As I began salivating at the thought of running out the door to eat my pre-prepared cheese sandwich, the nurse hit me with the lovely news that I will need to repeat this test at 28 weeks!
I cannot wait...
My bloke told me he wasn't coming next time, but as he couldn't quite look me in the eye as he said it, I think he already knows that is just wishful thinking!
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