I had a sucky doctor's appointment this morning. It was at the specialist, who I tend to take more seriously than my OB. They told me that I have to take the measurements and they are putting me on meds. I told them I will not and they can't make me, since I am so mature. I told them I can't afford the weekly cost of the test strips if I have to test 4 times a day. That really isn't true, I just don't want to spend $50 a week on them.
But then they threw it out there, the term no one wants to hear:
Risk of STILLBIRTH.
Yes, you heard correctly. Not monitoring my blood sugar levels could make one or both of my babies die. Obviously I cried. Not a super hardcore cry, only one tissue worth. What could even happen, which is much less serious, is that they could have blood sugar issues and it will make them sick. I don't want to make them feel sick in their first days of life.
Then we did the weekly ultrasound/BPP. Although they have stayed the same weight at weight checks for the whole pregnancy, in the last few weeks they have started being different. Baby B is now 11% smaller than Baby A. She also isn't kicking enough.
The nurse took me in her office to have a meeting regarding GD and she gave me lots of good information. She looked at my chart and gave me a funny look. She then told me that I didn't really fail the 3 hour glucose test, which I already knew. Just the first hour was a little over. So she told me that she would deny it if I ever told anyone, but taking my fasting blood sugar level would suffice and maybe once or twice after some meals. Then she told me about kick counts and how I need to start monitoring that. I know Baby A is a crazy mover so I'm not worried about him, and Baby B moves, but I would be sure unless I have had sugar that she doesn't move the ten times in two hours she is supposed to.
I left the appointment with a smile on my face. By the time I got to the car, I was crying my eyes out. I had mascara all over my face. I drove to the grocery to get a healthy salad for lunch. I didn't have anything to wipe my face off with but a dirty sock, so I did it. I missed a huge streak of black and didn't discover it until nearly 45 minutes later. Not one person who I spoke to told me this. Don't you hate that?
I just want my babies to be okay . . . . .