I had a little bit of a scare this past week. It involved me, glucose, insulin (or the lack thereof), and potentially having to eliminate the delicious food items from my diet.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the 1-hour glucose test (Dad)- you go to the doctor's office, they give you a "delicious" orange soda-like drink...

A quick digression about the drink. I am a girl who LOVES soda. Coke, Sprite, Root Beer, the Dew, it's all good. The drink they give you at the doctor is NASTY. Here's a fun experiment you can try at home!  Take a bottle of Sunkist, remove the cap, leave it in your car for a week, replace the cap, put it in the fridge for a bit to get cold, and SLAM IT DOWN!!! WOOOO! See how that thick, flat, orange taste lingers? Doesn't it make you want to wretch? Ok, well, that's what the drink is like.

So you have to chug the drink within 5 minutes (there was a nurse timing me), then you go sit in the waiting room for an hour and try not to heave. Finally, the take a test tube of your blood and send it to the lab.

Here's a question: why can't they just do a finger-stick with a normal hand-held meter, like Wilfred Brimley does? Why the need for an entire tube of blood? And then you have to wait a week for the lab results? What's up with that? Just askin'.

My first test I scored a 134. Some doctors use 135 as their cutoff value, some use 140. The doctor who first reviewed my test uses 140, so she said I was all good. However, when I went for another appointment 2 weeks later, a different doctor (who prefers the 135 cutoff) suggested I do another 1-hour test, just to be sure I didn't have gestational diabetes.

So of course, I fail the 2nd test. I got a 144. Dagnabit! Now I have to do the 3 hour test!!

The three hour test is a little different cuz you have to fast longer before the test, you have to drink a bigger bottle of the drink (yum!), and you have to have your blood drawn 4 times.

So you go into the office, they take a tube of blood, you chug the drink, you wait an hour, more bloodletting, wait an hour, round three of blood draws, wait an hour, have your final blood drawn.

By the time you're done, you have read EVERYTHING in the waiting room, you're so hungry you're gnawing on your own wrist, and you look like a heroin addict with track marks and bruises all over your arms.

This story has a happy ending, however. I got my 3-hour results and as it turns out, I don't have diabetes after all!! Yippeee!!!! To celebrate, Frank and I went out to dinner and I had a giant steak and a huge pile of mashed potatoes! Delish!

On March 22nd, I had my first baby shower. This one was for the Miami family, and hosted by Lourdes. For those of you who don't know my stepmom Lourdes, she knows how to throw a party. She goes all out with the cake, decorations, food, gifts everything. Seriously, she should have a t.v. show called "Pimp my Party" where she just goes around turning peoples' ho-hum parties into par-TAYS.

Anyhoo, all the cool kids were there. We had about 40 guests and they brought with them a combined total of a bazillion jillion presents. About 4 bazillion of them came from Lourdes. My dad says she has a Babies R Us addiction- do they have a rehab for that?

The food was delish- Lourdes hired a chef to come and cook for us. All the food was nursery-rhyme themed- i.e. "London Broil is Falling Down" and Mary had a Little Lamb Chops". Muy cute.

Holy crap the cake. If I tried to decribe the cake, I wouldn't do it justice. I have to post a picture of it, but even THAT wouldn't do it justice. It has to be seen to be believed. Those of you who were at the shower know what I'm talking about. For those of you who weren't there...ok, I'll try to describe. You know those Mad Hatter cakes? the kind where the tiers are sort of off center so the cake has a "leaning tower of Pisa" thing going on? Ok well, it was one of those. and each layer had different fondant decorations. The topper was a pregnant lady made of fondant sitting out a couch with presents all around- just like on the invitation. The bakery said they had never sone a cake like that before and they wanted a display version of it cuz it turned out so cool.  

So we did the normal shower thang, eating, chatting, a couple games, cake time and then the presents. Wow. I can't even put into words how many presents Charlotte received. I got some things I really needed like the stroller and car seat etc, but I really got loaded up on clothes. Many many many clothes. Tons of clothes. I don't know if Charlotte with be a baby long enough to wear all the clothes we got. I might have to give her some pills to stunt her growth so that she will stay small enough to fit into all those clothes.

Overall, it was a very fun shower. I had a very nice time and I want to thank my Daddoo and Lourdes for all the hard work they put in to make it a success.

The most interesting part of the weekend was the morning after the shower- where we had to figure out how to get all the presents back to Tampa. Luckily, my dad's a whiz with packing so we managed just fine.

Of course, once we got everything back to Tampa we had to figure out how it was all going to fit into our house! Do me a favor, if you come to our house anytime soon, don't open any closets- unless you want to be suffocated by an avalanche of adorable baby things. :)

I've added yet another picture to show how ginormous I'm getting. Seriously, look at the difference between 6 months and 7 months! Sheesh. I mean, I know I'm getting bigger- when I get on the floor to play with Stella, I can't get up. When I sit around the house, I really sit around the house!

Even though I recognize my bigness, I really had no concept of the difference between pre-PG and now. So, I approached it scientifically- with measuring tape. Now, those of you who knew me back in the day will recall that I have always been skinny. And, you will no doubt recall that it has always been difficult for me to gain weight (I know, bring out the little violins).

Prior to getting preggified, I weighed in at a hefty 105 with measurements of 33-22-33. I could easily hide behind a parking meter and no one would even know I was there. Now, I'm at a lean 132 with 36-36-36 measurements. I'm now what you might call a "brick house." I'm mighty mighty, and lettin' it all hang out.

That's a net gain of 27 pounds. That is a 26% increase in my body weight within just the last 4 months (I didn't gain any weight during my first trimester on account of all the puking). 26%! That's a lot of weight to gain in 4 months! Try an experiment at home: Take your current weight, multiply by .26, add THAT number to your current weight, and then freak out at the number that pops up.

That may not sound incredibly impressive to you. You may be thinking: big deal! I could gain 27 pounds after a big meal! This phenomenon in very unusual to me. I mean hell, I didn't break into the triple-digits until I was 20 years old!

The scary thing is- I have 10 weeks to go. dun dun DUUUUUHHHHHHHNNNNN!!! Holy crap. Pretty soon, I'll get so big I'll have to wash myself with a rag on a stick.

NOTE: This is part 3 of a rootin'-tootin' series of pregnancy commentaries penned by yours truly. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2, scroll down and catch yourself up or else you'll be totally lost. Seriously, the way these are all woven together- it's seamless. Ok, got all the backstories? Good! Let's go with part 3!

I work with a lot of patients who have dementia. I'm used to dealing with highly forgetful and agitated people all day. I just never thought I'd become one of them at such a young age.

I know I don't actually have dementia. What I do have are symptoms consistent with dementia secondary to sleep deprivation. I'm not being deprived of sleep in the classic sense- no blaring music or water torture- but my hunch is that not being able to sleep for more than 1 hour at a time is contributing to my delerium.

I have had to forgo REM sleep to experience the joys of waking up to heartburn, changing position, running to pee and OW OW LEG CRAMPS!! OMIGOD FRANK WAKE UP!!! I CAN'T MOVE! MY LEG! MY LEG!! Oh yes, the leg cramps. They come out of nowhere and are exruciating. You know when you're watching football on t.v. and you see a defensive end writhing on the field after a play? The announcers say, "Looks like he's cramping up a little."Those are the cramps I'm talking about. The ones that make football players cry.

Luckily, Frank stretches me out and I'm able to get relief. I don't know what I would do if I got one of those cramps when Frank wasn't there. I'd probably thrash around, screaming, imploring Stella to go get help. Of course, Stella would probably run out to get help, get distracted by a leaf blowing across the yard, and spend the rest of the time chasing lizards. Man's best friend indeed.

As a result of this sleepus interruptus, I got through my days in a zombie-like state. Take for example, the other morning. I got up, as usual and went to get breakfast ready. I poured cereal for Frank and dog food for Stella. Unfortunately, I put Frank's food in Stella's bowl and vice versa. I really didn't notice until Stella had gotten through 1/2 a bowl of Raisin Bran. She loved it. For the record, Frank says Iams Mini-Chunks taste like crap.

So there you have it, friends. Fair warning. Now, I know some of you might be thinking that I'm being melodramatic and unappreciative of what's going on with me right now (er- growing a person, for those of you playing along at home). Of course I'm being dramatic. It's through the use of hyperbole that I can get you to laugh. It's comedy people!

The truth is I have a deep appreciation for everything I have gone through. Even when things suck, and I'm hurling up my guts, or unable to drink water without breathing fire, or leaking through my shirt, I know it's all in order to create something that is bigger than myself. In doing so, I will be embarking upon a lifelong journey that will leave me forever changed. In creating another being, Frank and I are perpetuating our consciousness through time. (Woah, deep.) This is an overwhelming prospect, so I think I can be forgiven for having a little fun with it.

I think when you are dealing with something that is so monumental, you need to make jokes about it, or else the gravity of the situation will crush you. I mean, even God has a sense of humor. Exhibit A: the platypus.

I hope you've enjoted reading this series of journals. I had a blast writing them. If you have any suggestions for future topics, let me know. I must leave you now. The Cadbury Mimi Eggs are calling- coming master!