Time waits for nobody

Damn, I am a sucky blogger.

I haven't blogged in six weeks. My bad. Granted, having a newborn at home keeps you a lil busy, but still. I suck.

Way too much has happened since my last blog entry for me to try to update with specifics. But basically, the only thing that really is important to know... is that our beautiful angel baby girl came home on February 5th, 2010. She was discharged from the hospital weighing in at 4 lbs, 6 oz, which, eerily enough is what her Mama weighed when she went home from the very same hospital 30 1/2 years ago!

Anyway, we've spent two and a half glorious weeks at home with her so far and, while definitely experiencing sleep deprivation firsthand, we are loving every second. She is amazing, and growing and changing every day. As of her last pediatrician appointment on 2-19-10, she was 5 lbs, 4 oz, and I'd venture a guess that she's put on a few oz even since then.

Tomorrow, chronologically, Natalie will be 8 weeks old. I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around that concept. It seems like yesterday when I was lying in that hospital bed, not knowing what the next hour would bring. And all of those countless trips down to see Natalie in the NICU... 38 days worth. Sometimes 2 or 3 times a day. The ups and downs we faced... the days that seemed like they would never end, and those when the sun set before I even realized I hadn't eaten breakfast.

I'm experiencing a new meaning of the word tired. And those Moms who say, "try to sleep when the baby sleeps" are smoking crack. There is a lot of life to be lived in the brief hours you have while your infant is soundly sleeping. There is laundry to be done. Thank you notes to be written. Breast pumps and bottles to be washed and sanitized. Food to be eaten (I'm good at forgetting that one). Showers to be taken. Houses to be cleaned. And so on, and so forth.

I am definitely getting *some* sleep, thanks to my lovely husband who lets me skip a feeding or two now and then and takes bottle duty. But in the end, all of the hard work, the struggle, and the exhaustion is worth it.

So I'm back, and I'm committing to keeping up with this blog a little better. I might even go back and type out the rest of Natalie's birth story... though to document all 38 days in the NICU would not only be boring and tedious, but most likely impossible, considering all of the days basically ran together in my brain anyway. But I'll at least attempt to get it all down and recorded so someday I can tell Natalie her tale. :)

The best Christmas present EVER

...was my daughter, Natalie Diana Rolston.

Wow. My daughter. That seems so strange to say. But it's real now. SHE'S real. I can say it and mean it! WOW!!!!

Ok, so here goes the *very* long story... this is more for documentation for me though I hope those reading this don't hate me for being so wordy...

So, picking up where I left off on Christmas Eve. My spirits began to rise the next day, as it was Christmas and I literally had a blizzard of visitors and presents and love surrounding me all day. I'm surprised the nurses didn't say something; at one point I think we my have had 10+ people by my bedside. But... it was theraputic and wonderful to have everyone. AND Dave was allowed to bring Sammy down to the lobby to see me for a quick 10 minute visit, and that helped calm my nerves just to hug my pup again. I was fearful that I might not see him again for weeks but at least I got to say I love you to him and wrap my arms around that big scruffy neck. So, I got lots of nice gifts, and had some great visits with my family, the Rolstons, friends, etc... went to bed that night feeling a little more rested and settled.

On Saturday the 26th, things were much more quiet. I still had a slew of visitors but I seemed to be settling into hospital bedrest life. I was still getting regular blood pressure readings, and they would hook me up to the fetal non-stress monitor multiple times a day. The baby did not seem to want to cooperate and give them the movement they needed, so hours would go by with me hooked up to that thing. I will never forget the clip-clop sound of her heartbeat; while comforting, it was also annoying to have to constantly be connected to that damn thing. After an uneventful 26th, everything started to change on Sunday. I woke up, feeling normal. Had breakfast, enjoyed my morning coffee with Andrew (he would bring me Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts coffee every morning and sit and visit with me, it was awesome!) and got an amazing surprise - my lovely friend Andrea from Boston came to visit me! So as the afternoon progressed, was lying in bed watching the Eagles-Broncos game, and I started to get this headache... at first it was dull, but it began to progress. Now, when you have pre-eclampsia, they constantly ask you whether or not you have a headache, blurred vision, or spots in front of your eyes, as these are all major indicators that your blood pressure is high. And this was the first time I'd experienced any of these things. So around 5:30 I alerted the nurse that this headache had set in. But it crept up on me very quickly, and by 7:30, the pain had progressed from a "3 out of 10" to a "7 out of 10." So, I was starting to get very concerned. I couldn't eat or drink anything. I could barely think beyond the headache. They took me into the fetal non-stress room and hooked me up to the monitor, and gave me a cold washcloth for my forehead. But the pain wasn't going away. I asked again if I could take something for it, and they said they had to check with the doctor. Grrrr. It continued to escalate. By 8:30 I was in excruciating pain, but was finally given some percocet. At this point, my blood pressure was dangerously high, so they wheeled me, bed and all, into a labor and delivery room, where they could monitor me and the baby a little more privately and closely. Mom and Andrea came with me, but I couldn't even communicate, I was in so much pain. Andrea finally left; I felt so bad, she'd driven all the way from Long Island and I could barely visit with her! Mom stayed by my side all night, which, at the time concerned me because I was worried about her, but looking back, I'm really glad she was there. FINALLY, around 11 pm, the percs started to work and the headache began to diminish. They let me have some ice chips, but that was it. My appetite finally began to come back. But they had to take my blood pressure (which was still higher than they wanted it to be) every half hour, so sleep was near impossible.

Finally, early the next morning, they let me go back to my normal room. They'd given me some blood pressure medication to get it under control, and the headache was finally gone. There was a resonate dull ache in the back of my mind but I believe it was more fatigue than anything.

So, the 28th was another very quiet day. I warded off most visitors, but Andrea and Dave spent the better part of the day with me. Jen Woodruff popped in at night for a quick hello, but otherwise, I really laid low. At around midnight, the nurses came in and took my blood pressure, and it was actually the lowest it had been in four days, I was thrilled! I even texted Dave to tell him, and he was relieved.

And that's when the fun started.

3 am, the nurse comes in and gently wakes me to take my BP. It was around 190/110. Dangerously high. She immediately went to get the doctor. She comes back a few minutes later and informs me that "this baby is coming tonight." Tonight? What? But I was sleeping! And my pressure was fine three hours ago! C'mon! I began to tremble and tear up. I told them they couldn't touch me until my husband got there. So I immediately called him, praying that the phone would wake him up. He picked up, and I told him to get changed, and get down to the hospital - his daughter was going to be born. They wheeled me back to another labor and delivery room and started prepping me for the whole process. Dave got there at about 4 am, and they were still giving me information about the procedure and waiting on the anesthesiologist. They took a blood sample to see what my platelet count was like; if it was OK, I could get spinal anesthesia and Dave could be present for the birth. If they were low, I was going to have to get general anesthesia and be put under. Fortunately, my numbers were "good," (whatever that means) and THANK GOD the general anesthesia didn't have to happen. I don't do very well with anesthesia... and I really wanted Dave to be able to witness the birth of his daughter, and be there with me. We made phone calls to the McCords and Rolstons respectively, to let them know that this was happening, and make sure they were ready to come down once everything and everyone had stabilized... and then a gaggle of doctors and nurses flooded my room, asking me to sign papers, taking my thumbprints, and throwing all sorts of information at us that I can't imagine they expected us to absorb at that particular moment.

So at 5:45 AM, the the anesthesiologist arrives, shoots up my spine with the liquid magic, and the whole process began. As soon as I was numb enough from the waist down, the curtain went up, the lights went on, and the surgery began. Dave and the anesthesiologist were by my head the entire time, and we chatted it up the entire time. I had to keep talking, because, though I couldn't feel any pain down there, I could most certainly FEEL something, and I felt like I might throw up on everyone around me if I stopped talking long enough to really think about what was going on. I felt some tugging, pressure, and slight discomfort, but more from fear and uneasiness... I definitely was not in any pain, thankfully! Way to go Dr. Anesthesiologist! We talked about Boston, and about Bon Jovi (I think) and the anesthesiologist (whose name unfortunately escapes me now but he was the loveliest man!) told me about how both of his daughters were born premature, and are now consequently kicking ass and taking names, and kept stroking my face and encouraging me. Dave kept telling me how proud he was of me and what a great job I was doing, and how excited he was to meet Natalie. These were great distractions, and really kept me from thinking too much about what was currently happening a few feet further south.

And that's when we heard it.

A brief but piercing cry, as our baby girl was lifted out into the world at 6:08 AM, to let us all know she was here and her lungs worked on their own!!! Dave and I both began to cry, and the doctors and nurses began congratulating us. A few seconds later, they literally gave Dave 30 seconds to stand up and peek over the curtain and see his spawn - and I commend him for taking some really great pictures in the few seconds they gave him! - and then they cleaned her up and whisked her away to the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) to warm her up and check her out futher. I never got to see her... which bothered me slightly at the time but between the drugs and the confusion and fear I was feeling, I didn't vocalize anything... just laid there with a sense of relief knowing that she came out and voiced her opinion to the world, and that was step 1 of knowing that she was OK. No sooner had they gotten her out of the room then they began to sew me up and prepare me to head up to the ICU to recover.

Since I'm realizing now that this blog post could go on for quite some time, and could potentially be published into a novel of it's own, I will write part 2 of this story in a forthcoming update... but for now, suffice to say, my beautiful angel of a daughter is here, and we couldn't be prouder.

Pros and Cons of hospital life

Having never been hospitalized before (at least not that I can remember), my only perception of it is either what I've experienced from visiting others, or what I've absorbed from highly overbudgeted prime-time television. But regardless, I've never had a pretty picture of it in my mind, and I'm experiencing firsthand that living in a hospital sucks.

Everyone keeps saying to me, "well you're in good hands, you're where you belong..." and trust me, peeps, I get that. But it doesn't make it any easier to swallow or digest that you are BEDRIDDEN and under constant supervision when you FEEL FINE. It's very very very hard, and for those who know me well, you know that I am an on-the-go kinda girl. Who doesn't like to be told what to do. And here in the hospital, I am constantly being told what to do and not allowed to be on the go whatsoever. So, I'm doing my absolute best to deal.

Having said that, I've been trying to make a list of pros and cons of this hospital stay... and naturally, the list of cons FAR outweighs the pros... but I thought I'd identify some of the "good," and the "bad" things about this hospital stay.

Pros:

• feeling so loved and supported, to the point of being humbled... I am not someone who likes to be waited on or taken care of, and all I can do is lay in this bed and be at the mercy of those who love me and want to do everything in their power to make me feel better and more comfortable. I have heard from both my nearest and dearest, and friends from long long ago who are reaching out to give their support, and it feels amazing. I feel so loved and appreciated and it's making the mental element of this ordeal a lot easier to digest.
• Not having to go to work for a LONG time
• My hairdryer - I am allowed one shower a day, and depending on which nurse is on at the time, they even let me get out of bed and sit in the chair across the room for 5-10 minutes to dry my nappy hair after I get out. It's the only thing that helps me feel a little more human and ready to face any visitors that may come... and it's really the only thing I have to look forward to each day.

Ok, so I guess that's it for the pros.

Cons:

• Anti-embolism compression stockings - these fucking things... SKIN TIGHT thigh-high stockings that I have to wear AT ALL TIMES... they are designed to prevent swelling and prevent an embolism. they are making my legs itch, sweat, and cutting off circulation at times when they slip out of place. They are HORRIBLE. Certain nurses who've proven friendlier or warmer than others have given me temporary reprieves from wearing them, but for the most part, they are ordered to be on me at all times (other than when I'm in the shower) and they are the absolute, 100% worst part of being here.
• Missing my dog, my house, my shower, my toilet, my STUFF - luckily, the human beings in my life can come to me and bring some of the comforts of home, but it's just not the same. Though I was lucky enough to get a special Christmas day visit from my fluffy son, I miss him so terribly, I can't even put it into words. I lay here in this hospital bed craning my neck over my right shoulder (as I'm being given strict orders to rest on my left side, and the tv is behind me) I think about how nice it would be to be snuggled in on my overstuffed couch with pillows cushioning me on all sides, and actually have access to REAL television, and not the major networks and the frickin' Newborn channel.
• Hospital food - Ugh. All I can say. And truthfully, honestly, it's not THAT bad. But it's just eating your meals off a tray, from your bed, in a semi-upright position, in a hospital, that sucks. Luckily for me, I don't seem to be on any sort of restricted diet, so Mom and Dave both brought me plates from their various Christmas dinners attended. So, that's made things a little better. But still, it's depressing to know you won't sit at a table and enjoy a real meal with other civilized people for a very long time.
• Stale air - hospital air is dry and still. And THANK GOD the window in my room cracks open a few inches so I can at least get some air flow in (considering these Godforsaken stockings have me sweating bullets at night). I'm not allowed to go outdoors, and I'm not sure how I am going to breathe in and out this stale dry hospital air for the next 30+ days without any exposure to the outdoors. I guess I need to start trying to bribe nurses for some privileges. I can't help but equate this to being in my own personal prison... I know there's no comparison, but it feels that way.
• Crying babies - I know, I know... I'm in a maternity ward. And women are having babies on a daily basis. But I'm not, yet. And it's really hard to listen to the little babies as they get wheeled in to their Moms for feedings, and know how unknown and unsure my situation really still is... it's very sad. Especially because there will be no wheeling Natalie Diana in to me, she will be all wired and connected in the NICU and I will be staring at her through a thick pane of glass until she is big and strong enough to actually be held by me.
• Lack of sleep - between the thrice-nightly wake up calls for blood pressure readings, Non-Stress Tests, and blood work, it's impossible to get a solid night's sleep. And let's not even discuss the terribly uncomfortable, unbreathable bed to which I'm confined. And during the day, I can't get any rest because I typically have a constant stream of visitors. Which, I'm certainly not complaining about... but it makes it hard to catch some shuteye. I am thinking that the flow of visitors will begin to slow down now that people will start returning to work and have gotten their initial visit out of the way, which again, I appreciate so much... but it's hard when I start to get tired and I have people overlapping one another in and out the door from dawn to dusk. And then of course, once Dave or the last evening visitor has left and it's finally time to sleep... well, I have no interest in sleeping then and I am craving attention. Go figure
• People trying to commiserate - let's face it... unless you've been hospitalized for any length of time, you cannot possibly know how awful this experience is. Yes, it's easy to say, "oh well you're in the best place for you and your little girl, "and "it's a good thing they caught it when they did, " as if I don't know these things, but again, it doesn't suddenly make being confined to a hospital bed all the more appealing. I realize that every day I am in here, and still pregnant, is a good day for both me and the baby, and the longer she stays in me, the less time she'll have to spend in the NICU once she's born... but still... it just sucks. I want to get my daughter here in the best health and condition possible, but it doesn't mean that I can EVER be happy about my current situation.

So, as you can see, the bad far outweighs the good. I could keep going with the cons, unfortunately, all day, but this blog post would get annoyingly long, and repetitive. The truth of the matter is, I'm unhappy. I'm trying to stay positive, but my back and legs are getting sore from lying still all day long, and my blood pressure readings don't seem to be really improving, so I'm getting frustrated in not knowing what's next and waiting for each next reading. The hope of being released anytime soon for home bedrest has all but flown out the window, so now I just have to keep praying that another nurse will take pity on me and let me take off these stockings to let my legs breathe for ten minutes.

Christmas Eve - 30 weeks - and my worst nightmare come true

So, a follow up to my previous post. The swollen ankles. At the time, seemed bad, but were easily explained by the day's events.

Well, apparently not so much.

I went to work on Tuesday, and was admittedly very agitated and stressed. Got some news about some bonuses being issued to very undeserving managers and that there was "no bonus structure in place for someone in my role," so I was heated about that. Plus I arrived down at one of our Chester properties and the manager was sick as a dog with a sinus infection and had only JUST started her Z-pack a few hours prior. Great. Thanks.

I took my very comfy slip on clogs off to wiggle my toes, get the blood flowing, and once again noticed excessive swelling. I knew this wasn't normal, or right. So I called the doctor, just to see what they said. I had my regular 30 week appointment scheduled for the following Monday, but just in case they felt like it was worthy of me being checked out, I called. And they brought me in at 4:30. They took a urine sample, and weighed me. I had put on ELEVEN POUNDS in the two weeks since my previous appointment, which, is not normal pregnancy weight gain, especially in someone who is clinically overweight like myself. The doctor explained that the fluid retention was the cause of the edema (swelling) and the extremely high levels of protein in my urine were all major pointers to pre-eclampsia... a syndrome that my mother had when she had me, and that is somewhat common in many first-time pregnancies, especially when the patient has a family history of it. For those reading who are unfamiliar, here is more information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pre-eclampsia

Anyway - the doctor prescribed I do a 24 hour urine collection test, which was a real picnic, lemme tell ya... and I had to bring the specimen to Phoenixville Hospital at 8 am on Thursday morning for analysis. Little did I know, the analysis consisted of several hours of waiting, blood draws, Non-Stress Tests, and tears.

My blood pressure at the impromptu appointment the other day was higher than normal but not a concern to the doc at the time (which is a miracle considering how pissed and flustered I'd been at work that day), but today when they took it, it had jumped CONSIDERABLY. To the point where they were talking about transporting us to CHOP due to the severity of my situation. But they wanted to wait until a few more lab results came back from the blood work before they formulated a plan.

So around 11 am, Dr. Cantarella (who happened to be on call here all day, Thank GOD) came in to my room and informed me that, not only would I not be going to Boston next week for our little "babymoon," but I wouldn't even be leaving the hospital, and I was to go on immediate strict bedrest, and be under constant supervision. She also started spewing out really scary phrases like, "pre-term delivery," and "30 weeks is a little early, ideally we'd like to be at 32 or 33." Um, ok... so how do we do that?

We keep Lindy confined to a crappy hospital bed on Christmas Eve indefinitely, and just take her blood pressure and urine samples every five seconds until we decide the baby has to come out.

Scary thing about that... the baby's lungs are nowhere near fully developed. After all, I do have 10 weeks to go... 7 of which are critical until i'm considered full term. But with preeclampsia, it's terribly dangerous for the mother-to-be to go to term, so typically they induce as soon as they feel the symptoms can no longer be controlled. My doctor doesn't choose to treat with medicine, only bedrest. And very depressingly... the bedrest HAS to be hospital monitored. I can't even go home and rest there... I have to be here. I only wish I'd known as I walked out the door this morning with only the clothes on my back and my purse that it would be the last time I'd be seeing my house for many weeks, if not months... *gulp* I certainly would have given Sammy a much bigger hug and kiss and grabbed a few of my personal and comforting effects. Luckily, Dave is a gem and ran around the house like a maniac bringing me the things I need (hence, why I am blogging about this now, from my beautiful laptop) but still... it would have nice to have been able to prepare myself a little bit for this trauma I am now going through.

So, I lie here, on Christmas Eve... staring up at the lonely mini tree my parents lovingly brought for me to try to dress up my room and half listening to 'A Christmas Story' on TV. Next to that tree is a beautiful picture of my little fluffy boy sitting with Santa Paws... and I am doing everything in my human power not to break down and cry every few minutes. I do realize that I have to do EVERYTHING in my power to keep calm and collected so as to keep my pressures down and not jeopardize Natalie, but... it's really hard. It's so lonely. I want to be at home on my couch, watching Elf snuggled under too many blankets, with Dave asleep at my feet and Sam asleep on the floor an arm's length away. Instead, I'm here. And I'm sad. And hoping this doesn't spiral into a much deeper depression as my head is haunted with all of the thoughts of what may come and the dangers we may face, with not only my health, but my poor baby who may be premature... ugh. I just can't do it. But I have nothing else to think about, and sleep is just not happening. That's a guarantee.

As Mr. Garrison would say, Merry Fucking Christmas.

Home for the Holidays my ass.

These are a few of my favorite things...

Starting at about 8 am this past Saturday, the snow began to fall. And didn't stop until sometime in the early morning hours on Sunday. We got a total accumulation of about 10 inches, though there are parts of the area that were pushing 16-18! Needless to say, I stopped at Target on Friday night, picked up the necessities for a snow-in, and hunkered down with Dave and Sammy to weather the storm.

Friday night I was slightly upset; I finally changed out of my work clothes, took off my shoes and socks, and found my ankles and feet to be so swollen... well, more swollen than I'd ever seen them. Now, I am well aware that swelling is one of the lovely things that goes along with pregnancy, however, this was disturbing. I'd rolled ankles in soccer games that didn't swell this severely. I also know that severe swelling can also indicate preeclampsia, and although I have no reason to worry about that now, it's still a concern, considering my mom had it with me!

But, the truth of the matter is that I think I just really pushed myself to hard this past week; I was running all over God's creation for work, culminating in being in charge of shopping for, and setting up for our region's holiday luncheon on Friday. I was on my feet for the better part of the day, and I think this was my body's way of telling me to chill the eff out. So, that's exactly what I did for the past two days. I sat around, watched multiple episodes of TV shows I'd missed in the past few months, watched a few movies, and ATE. Boy did I eat. I took Sam out to play in the snow. I took naps. It was really quite lovely. I can't think of anyone I would have rather been snowed in with for two days than Dave and Sam (except maybe Natalie!), and I am thankful for the weather because it forced me to just chill out and not be on the go, like I so often am. I have 3 more full days of work and then ELEVEN days off... I cannot even begin to explain how amazingly awesome that is going to be. Once I'm back at work on the 4th, I feel like time is going to FLY!!! I won't lie, as excited as I am for Christmas and New Years just being around the corner, I am NOT looking forward to the marathon which is Christmas day... it would be really nice to be able to just hang here at the house, but alas... that isn't going to happen. We will be up and moving early, and finally come home and collapse at about 8 pm. At least this year Christmas is on a Friday so we have the entire weekend to chill afterwards... that'll be nice! But so help me God, next year, the rules of the game will change. More on that later :)

So what's new in baby world, you ask?

Well, I'm starting to get big, and moving at a much slower pace than before. As of today (Sunday), I am 29 weeks, 3 days. Kind of hard to believe that this little girl will be here in approximately 10 weeks. I am still feeling well, more or less... though sleeping has become an unpleasantly difficult task. I tend to sleep best when I'm on the couch, amazingly enough. But I am getting up to go to the bathroom 2-4x a night now... and waking up practically every hour just to reposition myself and get comfortable. I'm afraid that's only going to get worse as time goes on... so I've taken to just letting myself sleep on the couch when I fall asleep there... at least I tend to sleep a little better! Which is ridiculous because our bed is extremely comfortable.

Anyway - things are going well. In the home stretch now... and getting very excited to meet this little girl. Though I have a lot of fears (which I'll save for another post) looming over me, I think the anticipation of finally holding my baby in my arms is starting to overpower everything else.

My next doctor's appointment is Monday the 28th, and then I will start going every 2 weeks after that... until we're at 36 weeks, when they'll start seeing me every week! OMG!!!

A week full of exciting news!

WOOHOO!!!! We're officially 26 weeks today... and that means there are only 98 days until Ms. Natalie Diana is here! That's kind of an amazing milestone, as far as I'm concerned.

In other news... I found out yesterday when being injected with the swine flu (vaccine), that I passed my glucose test for gestational diabetes... bring on the carbs, baby! Just in time for Thanksgiving, too!

Some more exciting news of this week is that I have the most amazingly awesome Dad in the world, who won the season ticket holder lottery for the Winter Classic, and my parents called on Tuesday night to tell me that they are giving Dave and me the tickets as a holiday present! I completely flipped out when they told me... I can't believe it's actually happening and I'm going to get to see the Flyers play at Fenway Park! It's a once in a lifetime game... and it will be our last getaway before Natalie gets here... so it's just awesome!

And finally - the most exciting news of the week is that yesterday afternoon, our good friends Ali and Kevin welcomed their daughter Kaitlyn Grace, to the world! Talk about having something to give thanks for this year!!! The funny thing is, Ali and I were at yoga together not 12 hours before Kaitlyn arrived... she wasn't actually due until December 8th, but I guess she was ready for the world two weeks early! So congrats to Ali and Kevin - we can't wait to meet your beautiful bundle of joy!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!!! I'm off to gorge myself on turkey and parsnips :)

Ultrasound, round 2

On Monday, Nov 16th, Dave and I were lucky enough to get to see our little girl in utero yet again.

This time, she decided to be a good baby, and was in the right position to get us not only some great photos, but to allow the doctor to get the measurements he had needed before. As of that date, she was weighing in at 1 lb, 12 oz and the doctor speculated that she probably is about 10-11 inches long now. But he referred to her as seeming "happy and healthy," which was A-OK by me. Here are some of the many pix they gave us; please excuse the crooked scan job.

Needless to say it was a great way to kick off the week... my next OB appointment is in our 28th week (!!!!!!), but I have to take my gestational diabetes glucose test this coming Monday, which to be honest, I am not all that excited about. #1, I've heard the nasty orange liquid is absolutely disgusting to drink and that you have to do what you can to pound it, and #2, because of the PCOS with which I was diagnosed last spring, I am at a much higher risk for GD. But, think good thoughts... if I fail the 1-hour glucose test, I have to go back to schedule a 3 hour test as a follow up. That one is more telling; if I don't pass that, then they can basically assume I have GD and I will be put on a very strict diet, and possibly even have to take insulin :(

But, again, must think good thoughts until we have something to really worry about!