Yesterday, I called the doc's office and got some great news! In order to "pass" the 3 hour glucose screen, I had to get decent scores on 2 of the 4 tests. I was happily surprised to hear that I only got an abnormal score on the 2nd stick, the one that's one hour after I guzzled that nasty Glucola. But considering it's 100 grams of glucose, I'm not surprised. I have to get tested again in a month, but that's a whole month of sweet (LOL!) freedom! I am tempted to ask if they can "prescribe" a glucose meter so I can start keeping track, and can make better choices without the diabetes diagnosis. I am just tickled pink that for now, I'm A-OK. I was dreading the thought of having to have insulin during labor like I did with Dante. That sucked a big one.
I'm still being a neurotic freak with my carb intake, and going as protein heavy as I can. I am still working my now non-existent ass off trying to avoid that terrible diagnosis again. (While I'm thinking about it, how the hell did my once glorious booty disappear? I used to be able to hold a pair of jeans up without a belt! WTH?)
That being said, I had a great day today with Dante. We went to see my friend's son's kindergarten graduation, and then went for pizza after. Dante was himself: Loud, funny, smart and gorgeous. He ate quite a bit of my tuna salad and some of his pizza, and he had a lot of fun showing off his alphabet skills. He flirted with one of our servers, and threw pizza dough all over the restaurant. Same old, same old. =D
I am a bit worried, though. I can't lie. I have this fear that Dante may feel neglected when his sister gets here. I remember when he was teeny tiny, and every waking (and sometimes sleeping) moment was spent on him. Granted, I have more experience this time, but there is only one of me. My husband is a hard worker who goes in early to make sure he's set up at work, and it's mostly just me here to make sure Dante is fed, dressed, clean and happy. While he has recently learned how to put his dishes in the sink (as opposed to the trash, which was really obnoxious there for a bit...) and he can sit and "read" a book or dance all by himself, I'm afraid he'll feel like he doesn't matter when I have a little girl who is even more helpless than he is. Having a younger brother, I know that feeling. I think that's why I loved sticking my nose in a book. I got to get out of the way while everyone doted on my little brother. I wouldn't be surprised if my mom told you (or me) that she would forget I existed because I would just sit in one place and read for hours, while my little bro would play loudly in the next room. Seeing how hard it was to make him eat ANYTHING, I ate what was put in front of me, for the most part. The only reason I wouldn't eat broccoli, per se, was just so they would remember I was there. I'm seriously afraid of how Dante is going to react when she shows up.
AND ANOTHER THING...names are eluding me. There are a lot of gorgeous names for girls, but so many are too popular (I don't want Little Miss to be one of 5 "Olivia's" for example) or too weird, or don't fit my insanely weird criteria. I want something off the beaten track, but not off the wall. I want to honor my best friend that passed, and/or one of the many great ladies I am lucky enough to be related to. I want one of her names to reflect her Hispanic heritage. I want it to flow with our last name. There are some names I just flat out refuse because people I don't like have that name. I'm stuck, and I hate it. With Dante, it was easy. When Hubby and I started dating, he told me he WILL have a son, and his name WILL BE Dante. That was it. His middle name was fun to find, after a friend suggested we go tongue in cheek and find a middle name that means "fire." (Get it? Dante's Inferno? BWAHAHAHA! Sad thing is, he's a spit fire, so it works!)
So, that's where my brain is right about now...Now I have to get us both dressed again so I can go get Tums, since I'm out. That's been my drug of choice as of late....