For anyone who is pregnant or has ever considered getting pregnant. Pregnancy for the skeptical woman is an honest, accessible, and humorous journey through the physical, emotional, and domestic changes that you can really expect.
Excerpt:
For the GTT, you must first set aside one hour to 90 minutes of your day. Leave the house with an empty bladder because as you sign in to the lab you will be given a 50ml liter bottle of liquid. This usually comes in orange flavor, although I hear other flavors are out there. It is a flat orange soda with a subtle Gatorade top-note. I was given a shot glass size paper cup with my bottle. The receptionist said to me, “okay, so you have to drink this entire bottle in five minutes or less.”
I’m sorry; I was unaware that a dare was included in this screening.
I take a seat among the other patients waiting for blood-work and immediately I feel like all eyes are on me, the big pregnant lady who is about to chug a bottle of orange syrup. The bottle fills the “shot glass” three times. I drink all of it in under three minutes because my desire to get out of there far outweighs my fear of throwing up this stuff.
I return the empty bottle to the receptionist who notes the time. I sit down and begin the wait. I have to tell her when 57 minutes have elapsed. I read, I tweet, and then the baby gets the hiccups so I pretend that my stomach is not having visible, violent spasms. Ten minutes into the wait, the nausea finally kicks in because there is not enough room for 50ml of orange syrup and the baby. My mantra is “stay down, stay down, stay down.”
At the fifty-six minute mark I return to the receptionist and tell her that it’s been an hour. I’m directed to the back of the lab where a tech draws three large vials of blood and finally I’m allowed to leave.
Excerpt:
For the GTT, you must first set aside one hour to 90 minutes of your day. Leave the house with an empty bladder because as you sign in to the lab you will be given a 50ml liter bottle of liquid. This usually comes in orange flavor, although I hear other flavors are out there. It is a flat orange soda with a subtle Gatorade top-note. I was given a shot glass size paper cup with my bottle. The receptionist said to me, “okay, so you have to drink this entire bottle in five minutes or less.”
I’m sorry; I was unaware that a dare was included in this screening.
I take a seat among the other patients waiting for blood-work and immediately I feel like all eyes are on me, the big pregnant lady who is about to chug a bottle of orange syrup. The bottle fills the “shot glass” three times. I drink all of it in under three minutes because my desire to get out of there far outweighs my fear of throwing up this stuff.
I return the empty bottle to the receptionist who notes the time. I sit down and begin the wait. I have to tell her when 57 minutes have elapsed. I read, I tweet, and then the baby gets the hiccups so I pretend that my stomach is not having visible, violent spasms. Ten minutes into the wait, the nausea finally kicks in because there is not enough room for 50ml of orange syrup and the baby. My mantra is “stay down, stay down, stay down.”
At the fifty-six minute mark I return to the receptionist and tell her that it’s been an hour. I’m directed to the back of the lab where a tech draws three large vials of blood and finally I’m allowed to leave.
