It seems that all those donuts I consumed while in California have come home to roost, not to mention those damn jelly babies. Gah.
A routine visit to my baby doc yesterday resulted in a severe reprimand from the lovely Doctor R for truly excessive weight gain (4k in a month, eek - a mistake, surely?), advice on how to de-puff my poor much-maligned limbs and a glucose test. Turns out my glucose levels are ready for take off so I now have to avoid sugar (sob, the only vice I have left) and complex carbs (ditto yummy crunchy bread and lovely pasta). So, when you add this in to all the pregnancy no-no's, it ends up that I can't eat effing anything except piles of veggies, a bit of fruit (excluding anything with a high GL) and mounds of well-cooked protein.
However, should probably stop viewing this latest turn up for the books as yet another of life's little attempts to piss on my bonfire and do some research as not entirely sure what it all means except that it's making the baby grow faster than is desirable (apparently this is Not A Good Thing). Plus it puts me one step closer to diabetes which obviously has nasty long-term health implications. So yes, I shall be taking it seriously.
Oh well. Off to France tomorrow to celebrate Alpha's big 40 over the course of a could-have-been debauched long weekend. I'll be the one in the corner working on my cross-stitch, knocking back a no-sugar herbal tea and nibbling on a celery stick while trying not to dribble pathetically at the sight of other non-pregnant, non-crazy-glucosed people get stuck into the vats of wine and a banquet table piled high with rare meat, smelly cheese, metres of baguette and delicious sugar-sprinkled patisserie...
Sigh.
Repeat after me: only 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go...9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go...
A routine visit to my baby doc yesterday resulted in a severe reprimand from the lovely Doctor R for truly excessive weight gain (4k in a month, eek - a mistake, surely?), advice on how to de-puff my poor much-maligned limbs and a glucose test. Turns out my glucose levels are ready for take off so I now have to avoid sugar (sob, the only vice I have left) and complex carbs (ditto yummy crunchy bread and lovely pasta). So, when you add this in to all the pregnancy no-no's, it ends up that I can't eat effing anything except piles of veggies, a bit of fruit (excluding anything with a high GL) and mounds of well-cooked protein.
However, should probably stop viewing this latest turn up for the books as yet another of life's little attempts to piss on my bonfire and do some research as not entirely sure what it all means except that it's making the baby grow faster than is desirable (apparently this is Not A Good Thing). Plus it puts me one step closer to diabetes which obviously has nasty long-term health implications. So yes, I shall be taking it seriously.
Oh well. Off to France tomorrow to celebrate Alpha's big 40 over the course of a could-have-been debauched long weekend. I'll be the one in the corner working on my cross-stitch, knocking back a no-sugar herbal tea and nibbling on a celery stick while trying not to dribble pathetically at the sight of other non-pregnant, non-crazy-glucosed people get stuck into the vats of wine and a banquet table piled high with rare meat, smelly cheese, metres of baguette and delicious sugar-sprinkled patisserie...
Sigh.
Repeat after me: only 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go...9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go... 9 weeks to go...
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