At around 7mos preggos get tested for gestational diabetes (aka GD), which is brought on when your body does not produce enough insulin for the increased amount of sugar in your big fat pregnant body.

I failed my screening blood test last week and had to go in for four hours of blood draws (a vile an hour) yesterday. Thankfully I passed, so all is good. That said, over the last week, I've been brooding about why I might have GD when stereotypically (and stereotypes are my life's dashboard) diabetes is a fat persons disease. All things considered, I am a healthy eater, exercise regularly and have no family history of diabetes. My doctor told me when I failed the 1st screening test not to be too concerned, that GD can be managed through diet alone…what, am I supposed to eat spinach, kale or chard more than once a day? Typically an indulgence for me is Wheat Thins or Ritz crackers. I would love to strap on a bag of Doritos feed bag style, but my husband and the size of my ass keeps me in check. He didn't marry a fat person and doesn't expect to be married to a fat person. That’s fair. He is my litmus test for how big I am getting during pregnancy. The fact that I gained three pounds last week doesn't seem to phase him, so I won't let it bother me either.

I can't help succumb to the occasional sweet treat however, and when I learned that my simple sugar intake days may be limited in the name of GD, I horded sweets. Last week I found myself at Starbucks with an urgent need to wolf down a snickerdoodle cookie, so I ordered two, because I wanted to be sure I satiated my craving. Later in the week, I pulled into the Tulley's drive-thru, couldn't decide between an oatmeal and raisin cookie or a coffee/vanilla twist ice cream cone, so I got both.

Since learning this morning that I don't have gestational diabetes, I've decided the 80's jukebox title track for today's pregnancy side effect is Iggy Pop's "Candy"..."Candy, Candy, Candy, I can't let you go, all my life your haunting me I love you so..." Bring on the snickerdoodles!

Really, I'm not usually a sugar freak, but when you think you're days are numbered, you may as well indulge. I am going to be a very fat elderly person.

More on Gestational Diabetes:

• Mayo Clinic
• American Diabetes Assoc
• March of Dimes

It's official. It's a dick and I couldn't be happier!

Earlier today I was corrected by one of my sister-in-laws regarding the pleasure(s) of  "Gyno Extraordinaire." In honor of her correction I thought I would share her personal comments to me. 

"Hey - There have been a few comments about the Amazing Dr. Z aka "Gyno to the Stars". Need to set the record straight.  To be sure he has a unique umm perspective on the family.  But to shed a little light, I for one have never seen him, nor has he seen me.  Broke out on my own - the comparative reality too much for me to muster. Keep up the good posts - cracking me up almost every day."

After several attempts at wrestling away the first shots of our love child from my wife I was finally able to scan it. Of course during our first ultrasound I had to repeatedly ask Dr. Z (Gyno Extraordinaire) to point it out to me when I wasn't preoccupied with what operating system he was running. I've made it easy for every one else by highlighting it. But first I had to double-check with the host to be sure I wasn't pointing out something I shouldn't be.

I was a little bummed that it wasn't in color.

Recently I had my first gyno visit. Actually I joined my wife on her first visit after finding out she was knocked-up with my love seed. I wouldn't say I was thrilled to join her on this visit but I was told that perhaps they might preform an ultrasound and I was more than curious to actually see how the whole thing worked.

While we are waiting for our appointment to begin I started looking around the room for some common ground with the other patients. Again, this was my first visit, a newbie to be exact, and I had no idea what to expect. First off, I was the only male in the room. I wanted to grab my wife and start yelling "Why am I here? Why are there no other dudes here?" but I kept cool by fidgeting in my chair like an addict waiting for his next fix. Second thing I noticed was that there were no guy magazines in this place. They must have spent a fortune on magazine subscriptions and they couldn't afford a single copy of Sport Illustrated, US News, Time Magazine. Every mag had a baby on it's cover. What am I suppose to do with that? I would have been happy with Britney and her kids on the cover of People at this point. So I pulled out my phone and started playing games that came pre-installed. Once I started getting comfortable with my new surroundings I hear my wife's name called. Come on lady, I winning here and now you want me to stop.

We follow the office assistant back to what looks like an examine room but in all actuality it's another waiting room. Again no guy magazines and my wife looks at me like we should be "connecting" as I fidget in my chair. About 10 minutes go by and we are finally escorted again to what now seems to be the docs real office. Again we wait. Tick-tock-tick-tock.

As you can tell by now we did a lot of waiting and I did more than my share of fidgeting but finally the doc has graced us with his appearance. To keep it short I'll call him Dr. Z. From what I can tell Dr. Z has done my wife's entire family. There are 5 girls in her family and it seems that they all have gone to the stirrups with him. It almost seems like a family reunion. How's sister so-so and how about sister you-know -who? Me, I'm looking over Dr. Z's shoulder at his iMac wondering what operating system he is running. After the small talk ends, Dr. Z announces that it is time to begin the examination. Examination? I thought we/I was only here to see how an ultrasound was done and now my wife is going to be poked and proded like cattle. Why do I have to be here is screaming at full volume in my head.

In the examine room my wife is given a washcloth to change in to. Nothing is left to the imagination with this thing. Dr. Z casually instructs my wife to spread eagle and ease her body back as he awaits her arrival with milky white latex gloves on. Perv! Unfamiliar with proper etiquette while the doc fingers the ole lady I nervously look away and start contemplating actually picking up the baby magazine lying on a nearby counter. Fortunately I'm saved as one of his nurses enters with some contraption that I immediately believe to be the ultrasound machine. COOL! I'm instructed that I'm going to have to move position to make room for the machine on wheels.

Once everything is plugged in and at full charge Dr. Z grabs what appears to be a metal wan that looks very similar to what Harry Potter might carry to cast magical spells. What is he going to do with that? Oh no he didn't, oh yup he did. It disappears into you know where. Now call me stupid but I thought ultrasound where done when they rub some kind of gel on the woman's stomach and move a computer like mouse over it. But this is easily forgotten when black/white images start appearing on the monitor. Basically they are taking pictures of our baby through my wife's V. Of course I'm looking for a penis throughout the whole process but I'm informed promptly that this won't appear until the 20th week. Wait a second, I have to come back?