I’m in hell.
Or somewhere incredibly similar.
I’m getting my oral glucose tolerance test (OGTT) – the gestational diabetes test.
For the record: asking a pregnant woman not to eat until 10.30am is bad enough – but asking a nauseated, vomit-prone pregnant woman not to eat or not to take her nausea meds until 10.30am was a type of torture invented by Shawn from The Good Place. (I’m currently using deep mind power to will myself not to vomit the glucose drink which tastes way too similar to cordial.)
Not to mention, I slept terribly last night — likely because I knew I couldn’t have coffee in the morning. But also because I’m 6 months pregnant, can’t sleep on my back, have terrible back pain and indigestion that burns constantly. So there’s that.
See? Hell.
But there’s a silver lining: my boyfriend’s picking me up for a swim and a meal of my choosing once it’s done. It’s 11am on Monday but turns out, Monday’s can be the BEST days. Sure, he’s skipping work – but our days of being frivolous, spontaneous and irresponsible are numbered so we need to make the most of it.
Maybe it’s not hell afterall. Or maybe it’s true what they say – heaven for the climate and hell for the company.
