A quick-ish update on pregnancy stuff.  It’s week 25 and I’m deep into the second trimester, just about ready to launch into the third and final lap on this baby stuff.  Warning:  I’m feeling uncomfortable and whiny this evening, so read this post through a lens of hopefully-forgiveable waaaaaaaaah.

Blood sugars.  I have them.  And they continue to be weird.  I remember dialing up my basal rates quite a bit when I was pregnant with my daughter, but this time there’s more focus on my insulin:carb ratios.  (Which, for the record, used to be 1:10 or 1:11 across the board, but now are 1:7 and 1:6.)  My overnights and mornings are very steady, but mid-to-late evening is where I am still falling apart and going higher than I’d like.  My endo has made tweaks.  I remain tweaked. But my A1C is the best it’s ever been in my entire life, so I need to stop bitching.

Doctor’s appointments.  I have them, too, and they all irritate me because I’ve made the horrible decision of anchoring each one in Boston. I trust the medical team at Beth Israel and Joslin (in combination) to help me see this pregnancy through to its successful conclusion, and I know my health and my baby’s health are in good hands with these medical professionals. BUT. I hate the drive into Boston from southern RI. I hate waiting for doctors who are running late (though this was not an issue last Friday – a very nice and welcomed respite from waiting 40 min to an hour to be seen by one doctor). Last week, I had an endo appointment, eye dilation, OB/GYN prenatal visit, and an ultrasound on the same day. I spent six hours in Boston being poked, scanned, and paying for multiple parking garages.

All of this is necessary for the health of me and the baby being built, but at the same time, the stress of trying to coordinate the appointments and corral childcare and take time off from work has been a lot to juggle mentally and physically.  And it causes major whining.  Like, MAJOR. (Like this whole post, perhaps.)

Thankfully, the endo appointment resulted in minor tweaks, the eye dilation showed nothing surprising or panic-inducing, the prenatal visit was an exercise in “Hey, everything looks awesome,” and the ultrasound showed a baby boy who was perfectly in range in terms of size and activity.  My c-section has been scheduled (and is subject to change, depending on how my blood pressure does for the next few weeks), but thankfully, I’m not even on blood pressure meds at the moment since everything is in range.

Lots of checks and balances to make sure everyone is safe.  The end-game is healthy baby, healthy mom.  And I’m on track for both of those things, so I need to keep my head on straight for the next pile of weeks.  But doing that has been hard lately, since I’m pretty freaking uncomfortable.

Planning for August.  Dude, I can’t wait for August.  We’ve dug out all of Birdy’s useable hand-me-downs (including the crib, which needs to be un-dissasembled, and a high-chair that shamefully still had three gluten-free sweet potato puff lodged into the base of it) and my son’s room is painted and somewhat figured out.  And in preparation for his arrival, my travel has been pared down to include just a few more things between now and the impending birthday, leaving me free to expand fully after Friends for Life this summer.

Body issues.  I have those, too.  Because yeah, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have them.  I am expanding, and rapidly at that.  I’ve routinely envied women who carry their babies all beautifully, glowing and happy.  I’m kind of the opposite.  I love being a mom. Period. However, the process of becoming a mother again is hard on my body, and on my emotional state.  I wish I was more graceful and welcoming of all the changes, but I’m grouchy and weirded out by a lot of them. The influx of extra weight makes my body feel uncomfortable, my diabetes harder to manage, and the pregnancy aches and pains are kind of not my thing.  (Although I do like the kicks I’m feeling lately. It’s weird to be so happy about being kicked all day long by someone.) I am grateful this is happening in the first place, and I wouldn’t do anything to change it, but I need to remind myself that the body changes are somewhat temporary. And that I’ll feel normal again.  And that second pregnancies, from what I’ve heard, can be a little weirder than the first because things happen faster. And that it’s okay that my entire face looks different when I’m pregnant, because apparently I carry my babies in my face.

I’m excited to have my son safely out and healthy so I can go back to bending at the waist again without making strange “oooof!” noises.

Distractions.  In effort to distract myself from the discomfort of pregnancy in pursuit of the fruits of my (hopefully brief) labor, I’m easing myself away from the Internet here and there in efforts to be outside more.  I planted a garden.  Also potentially known as “a salad bar for all the asshole deer in my neighborhood.”  I’m eyeballing a children’s book writing class this summer.  I’m researching different writing opportunities, both in the diabetes space and waaaay outside of it.  I’m trying to monitor my emails without becoming a slave to them.  I’m aiming to keep healthy tabs on my pregnancy while also keeping tabs on my job. I’m looking at too many GIFs on the Internet and also missing The Good Wife (oh that finale). My brain is a fruit salad of mostly pineapple and random thoughts.

Basically, I’m slooowly losing my mind but only a few short months to go until my son arrives and I can start snuggling him.  Getting there. GETTING THERE!

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