Pregnancy Update: Twenty-Seven Weeks

We’re labeling the last seven days as “The Lost Week,” so my apologies to my Dumplin’ if he/she ever reads this and thinks I spent all of an entire week complaining (I did, but whatever).

If you’ve watched my Instagram Stories at all, you already know that I’ve been sick for the last five or so days, with a few different ailments:

  1. I failed my 1-hour gestational diabetes test.
  2. I’ve been re-diagnosed with anemia.
  3. I have the respiratory bug from hell.

Ohhhhh, the diabetes test. First, after I posted that I failed, I didn’t have a single message or comment from anyone who actually passed the first time. Personally, I think the one-hour is a crock, for a multitude of reasons. First of all, they don’t take a baseline reading before giving you the glucose. They tell you to have “nothing but water” for two hours prior, then cram you with 50g of what can only be described as the love child of molasses and 7-Up. Without a fasting test, how do you know what’s high and what isn’t? I get the arbitrary cut-off, but it seems stupid. Second, I was pulled back and blood tested after about forty minutes. Not an hour. Anywhoodles, it seemed to me that the entire exercise was a waste of time, especially since my Wonky Blood Sugar™ (my diagnosis in my words) is in my chart. 

Having to fast twelve hours then take four blood draws while sick, though? Could have gone without that. Looking at my lab results, you can see where my hypoglycemia came in hard: my fasting draw, my one-hour draw, and my two-hour draw were all within the boundaries of what is considered “normal” blood sugar. The three-hour draw, though, the one that was supposed to be between 80-135? It was 47.

Womp womp. Told y’all fools. Luckily, I had a protein bar in my bag for immediately after the last blood pull, so I didn’t wonk out and crash into Slim Chickens when leaving. So I passed the gestational diabetes test, I have Wonky Blood Sugar™, but it goes the downward direction instead of the upward direction, so no one cares. Que sera sera, such is my life.

The anemia is sort of a nothing-burger for me (and no, it’s not because I’m not pounding Big Macs). I’ve had an off-and-on anemia diagnosis since I was twelve or so, and my OB/GYN told me it was very common in pregnant women. Apparently, that cute little baby acts as a tapeworm parasite of sorts, and sweetly sucks all the nutrients from your body into their own. Kind of a metaphor for parenting, I think, but that lil’ baby looks so sweet, I don’t care that I have to take iron supplements (and will probably never go again, if ya feel me). I got a message that adding chlorophyll to your water can help with your iron levels, so I’m also giving that a whirl.

And then the respiratory thing. LORD. It’s hard to get an official diagnosis, since it doesn’t really matter unless I’m either running a blasting fever or dead, but I’m thinking, via context clues (i.e., what the little one had/ what I’ve had previously) that it’s either a gnarly sinus infection or bronchitis. I remember when I read that women’s immune systems were compromised while pregnant, I didn’t think too much of it. I get sniffles from time to time, the occasional sinus infection, a stomach virus every five to six years, and that’s really it. I think I’ve had the flu once when I was a kid. I say all that to point out, the germs don’t really bother me too much. All those years of drunkenly sharing fishbowls and eating things off the ground really paid off.

That is not the case now.

This little respiratory bug near killed my soul.

For the first time, though, I took time out of the office and actually rested. When I left Tuesday, I haven’t been back in since (I’ve been working, mind you — it’s just been done from my bed instead of office). And whoduthinkit, I’m starting to feel a little better. I know without a doubt I wouldn’t have taken any downtime if I wasn’t pregnant, and I’m a believer now in rest being some of the best medicine out there.

Even beyond the illness, this pregnancy has taught me the value of rest. Not passive downtime where I half-lay in the floor and watch Chopped while updating my Insta bio, but actual rest. Listening to my body when it tells me that it needs to stop and take a break. 

Some updates:

  • I’ve gained sixteen pounds. *GULP* Still hard to swallow, but becoming easier by the day. I started a prenatal yoga class and a meditation app (Expectful) that’s really helped with my mindset.
  • Lil’ Critter is supposed to weigh two pounds by now! And is the size of a cabbage. Moves all the time and I’m loving it.
  • We’re going to conquer the baby room together this weekend/next week.

Aaahhh. Closing in on the end of the second trimester!

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