I finally gave up the ghost and went for the glucose tolerance test, take 2. I knew that I would fail since I stopped the metformin, and I really didn't want to find out that I was diabetic the day before Easter so I delayed in the a way only the truly practiced procrastinator can delay. I tested before I went in. 128. Fasting. Not good, seeing as you qualify for insulin if fasting is higher than 95. 75 grams of carbs and an hour later I tested and got 158. Holy sheezers. I went home and started sulking, then started looking up weight based insulin dosing so that I could get the ball rolling and hopefully not have a baby in a sugar coma. About an hour later I felt really, really crappy. Like....I can't keep my eyes open crappy. Tested again. 171. Lovely. Injected my first insulin dose about 30 seconds later.
In other words ...the birthday cake for my mom, the cheesy potatoes, and the marshmallow/fruit salad/cool whip salad that I made to take to my mom's tomorrow? All totally off limits.
It's weird ...because even though I knew from before the beginning that it would end up this way, I'm still incredibly disappointed that it ended up this way. It also puts a fairly modest fast forward on timing ...the latest they'll let me deliver will be 38 weeks. Or June 22nd. Which umm...feels like it could be tomorrow or something. And I still have exactly 2 (two) baby items in the entire house and no nursery.