I just got back from my 3-hour glucose test. Whew. That was a doozy. Yesterday, once I found out I needed to take the second test, I was told to wait a couple hours for my test results to be sent over to the hospital and then I could call in to set my appointment. Luckily, they had an opening for this morning. Not wanting to drag this thing out any longer than was necessary, I snagged the earliest time slot available.

I was told not to eat anything after 7:30pm last night, which wasn’t too bad. We just made sure I had dinner early enough to make the deadline. Then I was cut-off. Only water until my test was over. So I dragged my ass over to the hospital at the lovely hour of 7:30am to begin the test.

First they took my fasting blood sugar level. If it was over 140, we wouldn’t need to go any further because we could just determine I had gestational diabetes. Luckily mine was 104, so I got to proceed with the test! Yeah. They gave me the Glucola (again, I went with the lemon-lime) which was the same in every way (size, consistency, etc.) except that it had twice as much sugar as the 1-hour test. And boy did it! I was really worried it was going to make me sick, because I was already light-headed from skipping breakfast. But my nurse informed me if I threw up we would have to stop the test and reschedule for another day. I did not want to do that, so I willed myself with every fiber of my being to not be sick or pass out or anything else that might ruin the test. My nurse was really cool and told me if I needed anything to let her know. She even offered me a pillow and blanket if I started to feel sick. And her name was Ana! I told her that was what we were planning to name the baby, so naturally we instantly bonded. You gotta love a good nurse during such a grueling test.

Anyway, then every hour for the next three hours I was called back into this tiny room for her to take a vile of my blood. I even had my own personal alarm that meant someone had to come and get me because you have a very small window in which to draw the blood. I wasn’t allowed to leave the waiting area between drawings because any unnecessary physical activity could alter my readings. Thankfully, I knew this in advance and brought a couple books to keep me busy. But the further I got into the test, the harder it was to keep focused on my books. Not only was I light-headed, but I was crashing from the worst sugar-high AND I was starving.

Finally Ana drew my last vile of blood. This left me with two nice holes in each arm, complete with gauzey bandages to rack up the extra sympathy from anyone I came across. (You wouldn’t believe how quickly people will open the door for a pregnant lady covered in bandages!) Then I quickly raced to my car with an unbeatable determination to find food–and fast!

So I survived the test. It wasn’t the worst thing I have ever done, but I won’t be lining up to do it again anytime soon. The roller coaster from drunken-sugar high, to dizzy nausea, to feeling like I haven’t slept in months was just NOT FUN. Oh and I should know the results in a couple days, so stay tuned!