So, hey. Howdy. Hi. I thought I’d check in and let folks know I’m still alive. I was prompted to write after I saw a Twitter notification email about #dblogcheck day and thought, “hey! What a great way to get back into blogging.” Turns out it was
two four days ago. Oh. Oops.
I’ve mostly been hanging around a chat board for the last, oh, month and half, which supports moms to be and such. I’ve run into a great group of ladies battling diabetes in some form; whether it’s T1, 2, or GD. Since we’re all collectively due around the same time, many of them failed their GTT recently and have now been thrown into the depths, somewhat blindly, of metering, diets involving low glycemic carbs, and 2 zillion doctor appointments. Since I’m kind of an open book when it comes to advocacy (I did blog for quite some time before the positive stick test), I do my best to offer real world advice when questions come up. And in turn, I’ve learned about what current treatments are for ladies with GD and T2, and what’s safe for pregnancy. (For example, Glyburide sounds a whole lot like NPH – and is just as volatile. Ugh.)
Personally, I’m feeling much more pregnant now that I’m nearly in the 3rd trimester. My MFM is very pleased with how I’m progressing, but that doesn’t mean I’m not taking more insulin than I ever have for meals… and I’m only going to need more in the next 13 weeks. My latest A1C is at my practice’s standard for non-PWDs, so that’s gotta say something, even though my 1 hour post-prandials are not in their target range. Let’s face it… they probably never will be. But – I always come down. Since the blood sugars aren’t a consistent battle, I can focus on things like Target screwing up my registry, washing and folding lots of little people clothes and putting them away, what to do about my back pain and expanding ribs, and feeling my little girl try to punch and kick her way out of my uterus. (Bananas still make her go crazy. As does sleeping on my side… sweets… breathing…)
I learned that my pump can give a maximum bolus of 25 units the other day. I may have to get creative in the next few weeks as I gave myself 24 units to cover my meager breakfast this morning. (And was still 141 one hour after the meal…) I half cried, half laughed when my MFM changed my breakfast carb ratio to 1:1.5. She told me some of her other T1s were on 1:0.5. In the back of my mind, I know I’ll get to that point, but I didn’t think it would be this early. Or that I’d be lucky and it wouldn’t happen to me. For the time being, I dial in my carb count and blindly hit “Act” twice to start the bolus without looking at the final number. I think I’d just freak out.
I feel like the 3rd trimester is when things can start to fall apart or go really well for me. Currently, my MFM is dead set on letting me carry to term and beyond pending nothing else is medically wrong. It’s a little different than conventional wisdom which basically states that if you have diabetes, you are getting induced any time between 37-39 weeks just because. I would love to be able to avoid to pitocin drip and I’m glad my MFM supports that. However, the little worries in the back of my mind still plague me. The idea that pre-eclampsia can knock me off my feet and out of the game is almost as scary as childbirth itself. Mostly because it’s something that just happens… with no warning signs or ways to prevent it or avoid it. Being the control freak that I am, I don’t know if I could handle it. And bed rest would bore me to tears.
Am I still dancing? Sort of. Back in May, I started working on a short foxtrot routine with my instructor for a performance in July (last weekend). As those 10 weeks progressed, I just got bigger and my lung capacity got smaller. Run throughs generally required a 5 minute break just to catch my breath toward the end. I think performing the routine at 26 weeks was a good idea. Any later and I don’t think I would have been able to handle the physicality of it. I also can’t turn without feeling dizzy or faint. (Yay equilibrium issues!) My exercise now comes from very limited, light, social dancing, and walking. I’ll be throwing prenatal yoga in there starting next week – hopefully. (I’ve been having a lot of trouble sitting as of late.)
Tomorrow, the hubs and I start interviewing doulas. We’re headed to a local event where you can meet a number of them at once and find out if any of them click with your birth plan. Our challenge is finding one who will help me through the first stages of labor naturally, but won’t try to push his/her ideals on us (or my doctors!) if we need medical interventions or when I call for my epidural. And as a high risk patient, I’m all about getting this kid out safely and sanely… even if it means throwing my ideal birth plan out the window at the last minute. If that person happens to exist, I’ll hire him/her on the spot.
Am I having a “normal pregnancy” otherwise? I guess; besides the litany of doctor appointments, blood sugar readings, screenings, and limited real estate remaining on my abdomen for infusion sites, of course. I hate maternity clothes and how expensive they are and if I could live in flip flops and yoga pants, I would. (WHY do the cheap maternity pants not have pockets!?) Our nursery is done, for the most part – namely because I didn’t want to deal with set up and building things if I were placed on bed rest later. I haven’t really gotten a ton of “snide comments” or “helpful advice” from strangers. I still visit Starbucks for a latte almost daily. (Half-caff of course.) No bizarre cravings – except I do enjoy the occasional doughnut and weekly trip to In n’ Out.
I can’t believe how fast this has gone. I’ve got less than 90 days left. On the flip side, I have less than 90 days left, and I’m just going to get bigger. X_x
Here is a sneak peak at her nursery, which I spent too much time making matchy-matchy. I don’t care – it’s adorable!