U.B.'s appointment, 5.5 months; Confessions of a glucose flunkie
I went in for another routine prenatal checkup last Wednesday -- now that we are in the home stretch (can you say YIKES?!?!?) I go every two weeks. This particular visit was earmarked for my glucose tolerance screening, to test for gestational diabetes. After being weighed and before I went in to see my practitioner, a nurse's aide gave me what must surely be caffeine-free Mountain Dew to chug. More on that in a bit.
Once again, U.B. is so healthy he is boring. His house measured in at a within-normal 26 cm (with me at 27 w 1 d, though I can ASSURE you it has grown since then). His heart rate was around 145 bpm. I had gained two pounds in the two weeks since my last visit, which is exactly what I am supposed to be shooting for. If I keep it up, at this rate I will gain 35 pounds total, exactly what I gained with the Isaac-monster. And my blood pressure is nice and low, at around 90-something over 50.
While I have been happy overall with the practitioner I happen to get scheduled with each time (who, I should mention, is a NURSE practitioner and not an obstetrician. Not that there's anything wrong with that), there have been a couple little hiccups that have suggested to me that she may not be the shiniest apple on the tree. First, there was the whole "it's a girl!" fandango from my first interaction with her. This time, I mentioned that we are staying with the fam in Indy for a nice long time at Christmas. Her immediate reaction was to express concern and to recommend, out of the blue, that I run to Babies R Us and drop some mad cash for a personal fetal heart monitor. Um, because I'll be missing at least one appointment and apparently that is a near medical emergency. When I gathered myself from suppressed laughter and suggested to her instead that it would be easier (and free) for me to monitor the baby's movement, she conceded, "Yeah, that would work, too." You know, because babies that move may just have hearts that are functioning properly. And, my dear N.P., this is supposed to instill faith in me that you know what you're talking about?
The whole shebang, from glucose-chugging to exiting the exam room, lasted less than half an hour, so I was shown to the waiting room and told to sit my expanded butt in a chair for another 30 minutes to allow myself adequate time to metabolize the aforementioned tasty sugary beverage. After being annoyed by The View for far too long, I was called back, my finger pricked, and my blood glucose level revealed to be 148 mystery-units. This is 8 mystery-units above the highest allowable passing level for the screen. Because of this, on Wednesday, I have to go in to an independent lab for a 3-hour glucose tolerance test, during which I can't leave the premises. I don't think I need to alert anyone to the obvious problem with that situation -- if you think I'm taking my toddler along for THREE STINKIN' HOURS you clearly don't know him. Perhaps a less obvious problem is that I have to fast, consuming nothing but water, for twelve hours before the test, and then absolutely nothing for the 3 hours of the test. Did I mention I ate half a dozen Oreos while composing the first paragraph of this post? What really busts my buffers is that, when I was preggers with the Isaac, I took, and passed, not one but two of these here initial screening tests. At that hospital, they gave me the tasty beverage at the end of my visit and told me to come back in an hour. As I worked in the building, I wasted my hour by walking to my office, checking my email, and then walking back. It makes me think...if those numbskulls at my current prenatal practice had just let me walk around the hospital a bit (which is what I would have been doing at that minute anyway had I not been in their office), I probably wouldn't need this excruciating follow-up test. Grr. Wish me luck.
Once again, U.B. is so healthy he is boring. His house measured in at a within-normal 26 cm (with me at 27 w 1 d, though I can ASSURE you it has grown since then). His heart rate was around 145 bpm. I had gained two pounds in the two weeks since my last visit, which is exactly what I am supposed to be shooting for. If I keep it up, at this rate I will gain 35 pounds total, exactly what I gained with the Isaac-monster. And my blood pressure is nice and low, at around 90-something over 50.
While I have been happy overall with the practitioner I happen to get scheduled with each time (who, I should mention, is a NURSE practitioner and not an obstetrician. Not that there's anything wrong with that), there have been a couple little hiccups that have suggested to me that she may not be the shiniest apple on the tree. First, there was the whole "it's a girl!" fandango from my first interaction with her. This time, I mentioned that we are staying with the fam in Indy for a nice long time at Christmas. Her immediate reaction was to express concern and to recommend, out of the blue, that I run to Babies R Us and drop some mad cash for a personal fetal heart monitor. Um, because I'll be missing at least one appointment and apparently that is a near medical emergency. When I gathered myself from suppressed laughter and suggested to her instead that it would be easier (and free) for me to monitor the baby's movement, she conceded, "Yeah, that would work, too." You know, because babies that move may just have hearts that are functioning properly. And, my dear N.P., this is supposed to instill faith in me that you know what you're talking about?
The whole shebang, from glucose-chugging to exiting the exam room, lasted less than half an hour, so I was shown to the waiting room and told to sit my expanded butt in a chair for another 30 minutes to allow myself adequate time to metabolize the aforementioned tasty sugary beverage. After being annoyed by The View for far too long, I was called back, my finger pricked, and my blood glucose level revealed to be 148 mystery-units. This is 8 mystery-units above the highest allowable passing level for the screen. Because of this, on Wednesday, I have to go in to an independent lab for a 3-hour glucose tolerance test, during which I can't leave the premises. I don't think I need to alert anyone to the obvious problem with that situation -- if you think I'm taking my toddler along for THREE STINKIN' HOURS you clearly don't know him. Perhaps a less obvious problem is that I have to fast, consuming nothing but water, for twelve hours before the test, and then absolutely nothing for the 3 hours of the test. Did I mention I ate half a dozen Oreos while composing the first paragraph of this post? What really busts my buffers is that, when I was preggers with the Isaac, I took, and passed, not one but two of these here initial screening tests. At that hospital, they gave me the tasty beverage at the end of my visit and told me to come back in an hour. As I worked in the building, I wasted my hour by walking to my office, checking my email, and then walking back. It makes me think...if those numbskulls at my current prenatal practice had just let me walk around the hospital a bit (which is what I would have been doing at that minute anyway had I not been in their office), I probably wouldn't need this excruciating follow-up test. Grr. Wish me luck.
posted by Claire at 6:04 PM
4 Comments:
Gah - I hated that test! Mine was like completely flat orange soda. Blech. But oh to do the 3-hr test - how annoying! Hope you can get a sitter for Isaac. Must have been a fluke as everything is going so well! Luck!
The same thing just happened to my friend here in Montana. She however asked her doc to redo the glucose test before having to go through the 3 hour test. Turns out she drank a little too much of the sugary drink and she passed the second test easily. On a lighter note I will be sending a xmas card (cute picture of Clay) to Mike's office in the next few weeks (I couldn't find you home address so I used Mikes office) so please give him a heads up to be on the lookout.
I am def wishing you MUCH luck, GD would NOT be fun. And your NP sounds annoying, grrr...
Do you find you think the second pregnancy is easier though? I did and didn't worry nearly as much. WIth my first I prob would have panicked and canceled the trip but with the second I would have been laughing along with you.
Maybe your hubby should buy you an ultrasound machine like Tom bought Katie ;)
Bust my buffers...heehee. I think someone hs been watching a little too much Thomas;-)
Good luck with your test and getting the OB from now on.
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