Yesterday was our appointment with the midwife. I had emailed her late last week, full of shame and sheepishness, letting her know that I thought I had screwed up the test and would have to take it again. I didn't hear anything back from her, so I was a bit squirmy about what might happen at the appointment - lectures, berating, etcetera.
Instead, she took out my test results and told me I'd passed with a level of 4.5. She said 7 or 8 was borderline, so I really had nothing to worry about.
Chris attributes this to a lifelong addiction to chocolate. He feels I have done a spectacular job of teaching my body how to digest sugars, and even two mini Kit-Kat bars hardly cause a spike.
I am so happily stunned! No diabetes for me!
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