By: John Jericiau
It’s the crack of dawn Sunday morning and we’ve made it on time to the three hour blood glucose test. We’re here because our friend/surrogate had an elevated one hour test result last week, and the doctors want to be sure she doesn’t have gestational diabetes. We went through this same drill almost five years ago with our youngest son, but the results were borderline so we just had to watch our diet and periodically prick our finger to check sugar levels.
We had received an email from Kaiser with specific instructions to show up at 7am, but they gave us the wrong building address. You’d think that an institution like Kaiser would have this down by now. With the help of a pleasant security man we made it to the right lab and our friend was forced to ingest a very sweet soda (after fasting since 8pm last night). Now we sit for 3 hours with other women (and their partners) in various stages of pregnancy and wait for each hour to tick slowly by, with no food or water allowed. I’m really hungry, but I will continue to fast in support of the situation. We’ll go to brunch when this is over.
Maybe it’s because we’re sitting in a bare bones, no frills Kaiser waiting room, but as we fast I’m feeling unwell. I’m just getting over some kind of 7 day illness passed to me from one of the boys. I now weigh more than I ever have in my entire life. My right foot continues to throb from a running injury several weeks ago (foot vs. hole). And I’m the older. For the past three decades I have been seriously in shape, and I’m not used to feeling fat, old, and in pain. I’ve really got to make a change for my body’s sake as well as the health of the members of my current and future family.
Before kids I could so easily resist food and snack temptations, but now not so much. I just didn’t have all this stuff in the house. Now I feed the boys their Golden Grahams just so I could shovel as much as possible in my mouth as they slowly and rationally chew theirs. I finish their mac n cheese so I don’t have to waste food. I’ll eat half eaten sandwiches, unfinished toast, and leftover quesadillas, all under the guise of cleaning up the mess. I’ll sneak a cookie here and a candy bar there from my boys’ stash, rationalizing that I am limiting their sugar intake which is a good thing. I don’t even have to be hungry; I just need the opportunity.
I have managed to cut out Diet Coke so that it’s no longer in our home, but that’s about the only change I’ve been able to make. I need to buy more fruits and vegetables, and make them readily available to my family (and friend/surrogate) in each and every meal. I need to limit my portion size during each meal. Because for most of my life I have burned up to 5000 calories per day with my triathlon training, I never had to think about calorie intake except to make sure that I was eating enough! That all has changed now that my workouts are so limited. I need to drink more water. I should be doing some weight training now that I’m 50. I really should stretch.
We’re at the 10 week mark and our baby is the size of a kumquat. With no more than 30 weeks to go I need to devise a plan, implement it, and stick with it for the rest of the pregnancy and into those first few foggy months after the arrival of our bundle of joy. I think I can do it. I’m feeling an increase in willpower just by writing this down.
Now where should we go for brunch?
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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