The good news is we've reached 27 weeks. The bad news (for me) is that I do have gestational diabetes. It may not sound like a huge deal, but I was having enough trouble eating the hospital food, and now my options are limited that much more. Plus it won't be as easy for Steve to bring me dinner. I currently have a finger-prick blood sugar test four times a day. If my sugars stay fairly stable they'll switch to testing only a couple of times a week, which would be nice. But I've been having one test or so per day that is slightly over the official limit (even while following the diet religiously), so that makes me worried I'll have to take meds to control it or will be doing four blood tests a day indefinitely.
The diagnosis was a pretty big blow at first. Now I'm trying to get over it and just eat what they give me.
But I'm eating what I want on Christmas. Sugars be damned.
So now I have gestational diabetes, like my former roommate did. As long as I don't end up with preeclampsia or "the herpee" ...