(Warning: I’m not really sure where I’m going with this post as I’m starting to write, so apologies if this ends up an incoherent stream of consciousness)
I’ve realised that my life is currently organised around the eating of cake. This is basically what we do at weekends when Milo is getting a bit restless, we walk to a cafe for coffee and cake. Often just to earthy foods, which is round the corner from our flat, but last weekend we went to bruntsfield to the new cuckoos bakery (where the photo was taken). This weekend we might try twelve triangles. Since I can’t drink and staying up late has become all but impossible sugar is my current vice of choice. I haven’t been holding back at all. Not just the weekend cake runs, but all the biscuits at work, and as a post-work snack and after dinner too.
The reason I realised this is because I had a gestational diabetes care after the midwife found elevated sugar levels in my urine sample (which turned out to just be cos I’d had breakfast first). It took almost a week for me to confirm that all was fine after all.
The midwife completely shut down any discussion of what gestational diabetes would mean, which I do understand because the likelihood of me actually having it was low, but of course the first thing I did after leaving the birth centre was Google all about it. It increases the risk of some pretty scary effects for the baby (though I always find wording around that to be frustratingly imprecise – does it increase it from one in a million to three in a million, or from one in a thousand, or a hundred or what? I am an analyst and I need to know!). And it means you have to give birth in a hospital, which would have meant I couldn’t have gone to the lovely birth centre where Milo was born. And you have to be really strict about diet, it means avoiding all sugar, not just avoiding ‘sugar’ like all those orthorexics*. No fruit juice, and a maximum of three fruit a day, and only one at a time, which would have been a nightmare for me, I have about six or seven a day and three for breakfast.
So anyway, I spent the first day feeling incredibly guilty and panicky, thinking of having done this to myself and the poor baby. On the second day I calmed down though and realised that the chance of this actually happening were really very low, what with me not having either of the biggest risk factors (being obese pre pregnancy and not doing any exercise). Nowhere in all the stuff I read did it say that you could get it from a couple of months of excessive sugar consumption. But I still avoided sweet things (though not fresh fruit, because I love it and I couldn’t give up all snacks) until I had the test results just in case. So a whole weekend went by with no cake consumed!
I’m now back on the weekend cake, but am so far successful at resisting all the snacks at work.
* by the way, I am so glad there’s a word for this now, it’s so common. I used to just call it disordered eating but this is much more precise