The Three Words That Changed Everything: 'You Have GD'

It was a Tuesday afternoon. Xing had gone for her glucose tolerance test in the morning – the one where you drink that disgustingly sweet orange drink and sit in a waiting room for two hours feeling progressively more nauseous. I'd offered to go with her, but she'd said it was fine, she'd be back by lunchtime.

The call came at 3pm.

What Happened

"The midwife just rang," Xing said, her voice tight. "My numbers are high. They're saying I have gestational diabetes."

I was in the middle of making a cup of tea. I put the kettle down and sat on the kitchen floor, phone pressed to my ear, trying to process what she was saying.

Gestational diabetes. GD. I'd heard of it vaguely – something to do with pregnancy and blood sugar – but I didn't really know what it meant. Was it dangerous? Would the baby be okay? Would Xing be okay?

"What do we do?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "They've booked me in with a diabetes nurse next week. They said I need to start testing my blood sugar four times a day and watch what I eat."

Four times a day. Every day. For the rest of the pregnancy.

I felt a wave of panic, followed immediately by a wave of guilt for feeling panicked when Xing was the one who actually had to deal with this.

How It Felt

For Xing, the diagnosis felt like a failure. She kept saying, "I should have eaten better," or "I should have exercised more," even though the midwife had explicitly told her it wasn't her fault. Gestational diabetes is about placenta hormones and genetics, not about eating too many biscuits.

But logic doesn't help when you're scared and pregnant and suddenly being told your body isn't working the way it should.

For me, it felt like helplessness. I couldn't fix this. I couldn't take it away from her. All I could do was stand there and watch her prick her finger four times a day and try not to cry when the numbers were high.

The first few days were the worst. We didn't know what foods were safe, what would spike her blood sugar, or how to make sense of the numbers. Every meal felt like a gamble.

What We Learnt

Here's what I wish someone had told us on day one:

It's not your fault. Gestational diabetes happens because the placenta produces hormones that make insulin less effective. It's not about willpower or diet or anything you did wrong.
The numbers will make sense eventually. In the beginning, blood sugar readings feel random and terrifying. But after a week or two, patterns emerge. You start to see what works and what doesn't.
You're not alone. About 1 in 7 pregnant women get gestational diabetes. It's common, it's manageable, and there are thousands of other families going through the same thing.
Food isn't the enemy. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking all carbs are bad or that you have to eat like a monk. You don't. You just have to be smarter about portions and pairings.
Partners can help. I felt useless at first, but then I realised: I can cook. I can research. I can test recipes. I can be the one who figures out what works so Xing doesn't have to.

Real Dad Tip

Take over the cooking. Seriously. If you're the partner of someone with GD and you're not already doing most of the cooking, start now.

It's not about being a hero or proving a point. It's about taking one thing off their plate (literally). Xing was already dealing with pregnancy symptoms, blood sugar testing, midwife appointments, and the mental load of worrying about the baby. The last thing she needed was to also figure out what to cook for dinner.

So I took over. I learnt what foods worked, what portion sizes were safe, and how to make meals that didn't feel like punishment. It gave Xing one less thing to stress about, and it gave me a way to actually help.

You don't have to be a chef. You just have to care enough to try.

That Tuesday afternoon feels like a lifetime ago now. We're still in the thick of it – Arthur isn't here yet, and Xing is still testing her blood sugar four times a day – but it doesn't feel as scary as it did. We've got a rhythm. We've got recipes that work. We've got each other.

And honestly? We're going to be okay.