Dear Ben & Jerry, We've had a good run, but now it is time that I move on. So, I'm threw with you. You led me on to thinking that your creamy, fudge-swirled decadence was what I needed, what the baby needed to make it through my pregnancy. Chocolate Fudge Brownie was there for me on my worst of days, Chunky Monkey could give me the extra pep I needed in the afternoon and Mint Chocolate Cookie was there to soothe my heartburn in the middle of the night. But, alas, you broke my heart and sent my blood sugar to new heights. Now, they tell me that you've given me gestational diabetes and that we're not allowed to have a relationship until after the baby is born. So, goodbye to you! But know there won't be a day that will go by without me missing your sweet kisses.
Ben & Jerry is out, Lite Cool Whip is in!!
Yes, it's true that I have gestational diabetes, which was a complete shocker since I didn't really have any of the risk factors (except for my age). The sugar police have put me on a strict, South Beachesque diet. I've cried on a number of occasions when the carb, sugar, chocolate deprivation has gotten the best of me. Try counting carbs when you are pregnant. It can really mess with your mind and cause you to spend 20 minutes in Whole Foods trying to find the lowest carb ice cream with spoon in hand and dive into it as soon as you get into your parked car. I have to prick my finger 3x per day to check my blood sugar. I've even had to do this in rush hour traffic at one of the busiest intersections in LA. Only slightly more dangerous than talking on a cell phone while driving. That's just how us multi-tasking, mobile people in LA roll.
