So I was feeling a bit down yesterday. Believe me, I KNOW that possibly having gestational diabetes is not the end of the world…I’ve been there, done that. But something about the nurse’s call yesterday still took the wind out of my sails. I wonder if it’s just that so many things in life are out of our control.

It could also be that I’m really missing Charlie. I know she’s had an amazing time in Tennessee, and I’m sure it will be difficult for Nana (and everyone else) to hand her back over to us. We could never have gotten everything done if it weren’t for the Bischoff’s generosity of spirit and willingness to keep her for this long. We are almost completely de-cluttered and have made multiple runs to Goodwill. Not too mention that having the opportunity to take care of all those little “errands” that pile up is a real blessing. Anyone with a baby knows that “just running” into the post office is not the same as it used to be!

I have cherished this time of solitude. However, with yesterday’s not-so-great news, I felt this intense loneliness that I haven’t experienced in a long time. There was definitely a hole where my baby girl should be. The house is too clean (a first!) and it’s too quiet. The cats are too comfortable. I need her to come home. She is my companion, my playmate, my life.

So I called up Auntie Em and she, like any wonderful best friend should, came over armed with junk food to celebrate my potential “break” from all things considered “empty calories”. What does one say about a friend like that?? How can I adequately express my love for her and all the fun and positive energy that she represents?? Who else would know that what I wanted most in that moment were Sour Patch Kids and chocolate??

Her spirit is not the only thing that draws me to her…she has an intense faith and a hope for all the good things that God has in store for us. I admit that I have become lazy in my relationship with Jesus over the past few months. I’ve skipped more church services than I care to admit. I kept saying, “Oh, I’ll go next week…” but the truth is that I am literally starving for some spiritual “milk” and really need to get back into the swing of things. No excuses. How can I model good things for Charlie if I’m not taking care of my own spiritual needs??

So my baby girl returns home to me tomorrow night. I hope she remembers me. I miss her sweet face. I miss her intense curiosity of life and her hugs and even her willful spirit.

We now have a space carved out for Baby #2. It’s filled with bins of baby clothes for the time being, but it’s ready to be shaped into a nook when I figure out what I want to do with it. I realize that as the (potential, God-willing) middle child, Baby #2 won’t have the nursery I picture in my head. We feel really strongly about not uprooting Charlie out of her room at this time, so it is what it is. We aren’t going to paint the room, but we’ll come up with some cute things to make it hers. We are toying with the idea of investing in a nice, upholstered rocker for the living room as well. Plenty of time right??

Tonight we are meeting Vann’s boss and her husband for dinner at Frontera Grill. If any of you watched “Top Chef Masters” on Bravo, you know that Frontera’s head chef, Rick Bayless, won the whole shebang this week. All the more reason to be geeked about going to this amazing restaurant for the first time. Then, first thing in the morning, Vann will drive to meet his parents in Louisville, Kentucky (the halfway point) to pick up the girlie. Please pray for the safety of all involved on the roads.

My hope is that as this pregnancy progresses, I am able to keep in mind the shear amazement of God’s blessings. No matter what, God has this baby (and Charlie, for that matter) in the palm of His hands. Psalms 139: 5-6 says, “You hem me in–behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.”

He hems us in. I’ve never noticed that before. Here’s what Wikipedia says about hemming: “To hem a piece of cloth a garment worker folds up a cut edge, folds it up again, and then sews it down. The process of hemming thus completely encloses the cut edge in cloth, so that it cannot ravel.” That’s pretty great, right?? Oh, to be protected from unraveling. What a gift that is.

I received a call from a nurse at my Dr.’s office this morning and it looks like my number from yesterday’s glucose test was high. The next step is to follow a specific diet for three days, and then on the fourth day, go back in to have more bloodwork done. It’s called a “3 Hour Glucose Tolerance Test”, and to be honest, it’s a real drag. It involves getting there first thing in the AM, drinking a sugar solution, and then being pricked three times on the hour for three hours.

Considering how I’ve felt during the latter part of this pregnancy, many people around me have wondered if I’d have to deal with this again. The first time I found out I had gestational diabetes I was DEVASTATED. I called Vann from work and was hysterically crying, so much so, he thought something was tragically wrong with me or the baby. I was just so unaware of what it all meant that I was scared, plain and simple. In the end, it ended up being a blessing as it slowed down my weight gain and Charlie was born with no complications.

When the nurse called today, I wasn’t too surprised, considering I sometimes expect the worst and was preparing myself for the stark face of reality. What really stinks, and what I just realized about an hour ago, is that I will be forced to give up my morning coffee for the three days I have to follow “the” diet. This is enough to make a grown woman cry.

In the end, will it be that tragic if I have to cut out simple sugars and follow a more balanced diet?? No…and believe me, I know that there are other women out there who have far greater struggles than this in their pregnancies and in life…so I don’t mean to make light of it. But to be honest, I want to ask, “Why me??” OF ALL THE THINGS.

My stupid test is next Thursday morning. Luckily, Vann can stay home with Charlie…anyone who thinks they can bring their toddler to a three hour glucose test has another thing coming. And, I guess there is still hope that it could just be a false positive, which has happened with a few of my friends. I know it will all be worth it in the end. And for goodness sakes, at least then I’d be entitled to that pumpkin spice frappuccino the day I can stomach anything more than chicken broth and/or jello (because you know you have to follow a “liquid diet” right after any major surgery). If I am released on Thanksgiving Day, there’d better be a FEAST waiting for me.

Oh, and speaking of surgeries, we have one scheduled: Monday, November 23rd, 10:30 AM. Ready or not, here she comes!!