Eat This, Not That - or That - or That...

I was officially diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes right before Christmas last year and since then- well - it's been like the armpit of hell on me. Not only do I have to grab my fat like a perv on a subway, but I have to inject it with insulin five times a day along with watching my carb-intake, staying away from refined sugar, taking about six pills a day and testing my blood sugar five times a day.

In a word? SUCKY.

I plan, pre-plan and constantly dwell on the "What will I eat?" subject - and, honestly, I'm to the point where I'd rather NOT eat than consume one more cheese and cracker snack.

Just when I think I get the hang of this rather complicated diet-balance - I get an email from the lady at the Perinatal Center berating me for eating Graham Crackers and Milk for a bedtime snack. A snack which I thoroughly enjoy since it doesn't make me gag while eating it like most of the other "meals" I have to choke down.

If it weren't for the (largely) flourishingly life in my belly - I'd have converted to anorexia as a New Year's Resolution.

Apparently, even though "Graham Crackers and 8oz of milk" is a listed and recommended snack in the information I got FROM their own nutritionist, they now say it is not a good snack idea.

So I had a minor meltdown last night.

Like some food-starved Jenny Craig survivor, I clutched the handles of my stainless steel fridge and just sobbed while my baby kicked me for being such a wuss.

They were more tears of frustration than out of want of a corndog or an Icee but c'mon- I'm hormonal and no one likes to be told they're wrong when they are trying SO HARD to be right. I was framed. Misinformed. Pissed as all hell.

So I cried while doling out some Dole pineappled into a measuring cup and sniffled while scooping out some nasty cottage cheese and sat down at the kitchen table to cry and eat a snack that I didn't want, wasn't hungry for and wasn't happy about eating.

The things we do for our children...

The good news and silver lining?

Baby Harry the IV is growing like a weed and is happy and healthy. He is a bit like Baby the hut and at 28 weeks - he is 3lbs and 15oz. Off the charts. But still -healthy. My sugar - though it spikes occasionally - is stabilizing and my weight is down five pounds from pre-pregnancy.

But I'm still mad.

So I look at the latest Baby Harry picture and I calm down. Some. :) That's the cord in front of his lips that looks like a Fu Man Chu mustache and the shadow of his ever-present hand over his head is making it look like he has Hitler hair. Not really sure where his nose is - hopefully he'll grow into it. And it will look like Harry's. Not mine. Lord help me - let him have Harry's pretty nose! :)

On a last, semi-related note - I quit my job. I put in my notice two weeks ago and decided to focus on my health instead. Unfortunately, I got suckered into working part-time and since my "last day" of Friday I've been at work every day. :)

Sigh. Only a few more months to go.

And then things will calm down.

Right?

Righ?!

:)