What's with me and failing tests?!

I had a dream last night that I failed my Art History test in college.  I showed up to class and got my exam.  The first page was matching and I didn't know any of them.  Then, all of the sudden time was up.  I turned in a blank test and failed the course.  I was also only wearing a bath robe, Rachel Zoe style.  Was this foreshadowing??

I didn't really fail academic tests in school.  No, that would be way less embarrassing than the tests I actually did fail.  Like the physical fitness test in elementary school.  I always failed the arm hang.  Always.  I was tiny and still couldn't hold myself up.  The whole class watches too.  I was the one that would hang for 2 seconds then start shaking profusely which would require me to drop down or else suffer extreme harassment.  Or, like the hearing test in 7th (YES 7th!) grade.  Complete social suicide (although 8th grade cheerleading totally redeemed my social status, phew).  A one Jonathan Platt was in my 1st period English class.  That was when we did the testing.  It was the very beginning of the year, but he was already dating Christine Kugler.  Regardless I was in love with him...not like a little Junior High crush, like, totally in love.  He played all sports, had spiky black hair, wore oversized Tommy Hilfiger and a chain.  Total babe.  OK, anyway, it was in the Library.  Once you passed, you were dismissed to go back to class.  I remember thinking, Jon is going to see that I am not back in class and think that I am a total dorko loser who can't hear anything, my life is over, must call Sherry and leave immediately.  When I finally was "released" from testing I turned around to leave, no one was left in the whole damn library....except for Jon.  He had failed too.  We walked back to class together. Then we fell in love and got married and are having a Sloane.  Not so bad I guess. 

Lately, I have been on a failing streak.  
Example: When I nonchalantly checked the box for the blood test checking for Cystic Fibrosis

I was at the doctor for the first time after finding out I was pregnant.  Jon was there, because at the time we were assuming he was the father (we were right).  Anyway they gave me a huge stack of papers to fill out. When I got to the disease screening portion I checked the CF carrier box which said it most applies to White/Caucasian.  I had no idea, better safe than sorry?  A week later I got a call from one of the nurses saying that I had tested positive for Cystic Fibrosis and that the baby's father, needed to get tested immediately.  Umm, Huh?  I was driving, so I pulled over (yes, mom, I actually pulled over...no texting and driving) and googled Cystic Fibrosis.  It told me that "most people with CF live into their early 30s".  I lost it.  I am talking a full on meltdown.  This was it.  I was going to die within the next 5 years.   I was going to leave Jon with a baby to raise alone. What was he going to dress her in?  Would she play all sports?  Even softball? 

I called Jon.  I told him I was dying and that I couldn't believe my mother had not told me/known about this condition.  At first he was angry at the nurse for calling me and giving me such dreadful news, then he sounded a little frantic...until his search engine delivered.  He read what I didn't....that I was only tested for the gene.  Most people are diagnosed with CF when they are very young.  I had only tested positive for the gene.  I was a carrier.  I was not going to die.  I was relieved for about 5 minutes.  I am really glad I didn't go buy a Range Rover on a whim (or am I?) .  Then, I started panicking.  If Jon had the gene too then our baby would possibly have the actual disease.  Well, after a whole month of waiting, Jon's results came back negative.  I should have known.  He doesn't flunk anything.  Ever.  He is almost perfect.  I think he is anyway.  (Unless we ever divorce, then I will divulge any flaws--got that babe?).

So, what is the latest test for me to fail you ask?  My effing glucose test.  My levels came back "elevated".  Awesome.  I am going to have gestational diabetes and have to squeeze out a 12 pound muffin baby.  Not really.  I mean, they told me that 1/4 of women tested fail their 1 hour glucose test and then pass the 3 hour test.  Several things could have  affected my test...high blood pressure (direct result of Sherry calling me about my alarm going off), it could have been those 2 bites of yogurt (just kidding Diaz/Whit), the hash brown/ketchup I ate for breakfast (I know, I know! No carbs! Bland eggs for breakfast only! I.Couldn't.Help.It). 

Prayers that all is well.  Judging by the contributing factors, I meet none...obese, over 30, diabetes in the family, black (mom? Anything you need to tell me?)....I am considered low risk.  If I do have gestational diabetes it means that my body is not producing enough insulin (fast enough) for me and baby.  I would go on a modified diet (NOOO!) and everything would be fine.  Luckily this is the type of test I am failing and not a sobriety test or a lie detector.  Kidding.  I am very thankful that Sloane is a healthy little squish.  I love her, even if I have to give up donuts.