Gestational diabetes is a bitch. When I found out I had it with my first pregnancy, I was happily eating the best damn almond croissant in the world. My shirt was covered in a fine dust of flakey, buttery dough, and I was composing raps in my head about the decadent almond pastry cream to the tune of Nicki Minaj’s "Super Bass."
Needless to say, I didn’t see it coming.
I thought pregnant women were allowed to eat ALL OF THE SUGAR. It’s the one time in life where gaining weight is actually encouraged, right? Unless you have god damn GD. Then you have to trade your ice cream and candy bars for finger pricks and obsessing about everything you throw down your (literal) pie hole.
It is shocking and annoying how many things have hidden sugar or carbs.
For my second, I tried to beat the system by cutting out out all sugar and carbs from my diet from the start. I swapped out my Häagen Dazs for a coconut sugar ice cream, and even switched my beloved Mexican Coke for Zevia, a stevia-sweetened soda that tastes like a finely aged cough syrup. I SUFFERED. And for nothing, because I got it again. Honestly, it’s not impossible to deal with GD, but it did make me occasionally contemplate assault for the sake of a baked good.
Let me tell you about six times gestational diabetes made me want to cut someone for a cupcake.
1. While jogging
It’s difficult enough for me to get my ass out the door sans baby in my belly. But add on 20 pounds and the urge to pee every five minutes and it gets damn near impossible. But I did it for the gestational diabetes, and how did the world repay me? By leaving a trail of donuts in the middle of my running path. Glazed, jelly-filled, the one with the little bits of toasted coconut on top. I told you, it’s a bitch.
2. Every time I ate out
It is shocking and annoying how many things have hidden sugar or carbs: stews cooked in beer, salad dressing, yogurt, anything breakfast related, anything that says “low sugar.” It’s ridiculous. I eventually discovered that Ethiopian food was safe enough, because their special flat bread, injera, was low-carb, but one can only eat so many lentils before they go crazy.
3. Stress eating
This was especially tough with my second, because I was constantly dealing with my crazy, stressful threenager. Were I not growing a baby inside my body, I’d drink away my feelings with a bourbon cocktail or mow down some cookies. Stress eating a bunch of celery sticks is a level of pathetic that I wanted no part of.
Making birthday cakes for others when you can’t taste a damn thing is a special corner of hell I found myself in once during baby No. 1 and twice during baby No. 2.
4. While jogging (again)
This time, I was prepared for the random stray donut or two, but instead, I encounter a cake. AN ENTIRE, THREE LAYER CAKE. And even though it had an army of squirrels picking at it, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t contemplate taking a few of them out for my share. They’re tiny. How hard could it be?
5. Birthing Class
Put a bunch of pregnant ladies in a room, and you better have snacks if you don’t want someone to get hurt. All of the moms-to-be took turns bringing in snacks to share and, most days it was fresh fruit, a vegetable tray or almonds. That is, until some hussy brought in a tray of Cinnabons. Let’s just say I’m lucky the closest thing to a knife around me was a plastic spork.
6. ALL of the birthdays
Nothing says happy birthday like low-carb, no sugar cupcake. It’s right up there with virgin cocktails and going to prom with your cousin. Making birthday cakes for others when you can’t taste a damn thing is a special corner of hell I found myself in once during baby No. 1 and twice during baby No. 2. There might have been crying. Okay, there was definitely crying.
Lots of low-carb, sugar-free tears from crying.