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Posts tagged ‘diabetic mommy’

Diabetic Pregnancy: Third Trimester.

Ten weeks left until the little man arrives, which means I’m in the third trimester and ready to fast forward through the summer.  FAST.  FORWAAAAAAAAARD!!

Swelling.  So far, so good.  I don’t have any swelling to speak of, which is a far cry from my first pregnancy, when I was in StayPuft mode starting around 28 weeks and stayed there until I delivered.  But thankfully, I’m a little more comfortable this round.  I can still wear my wedding rings, all my shoes, and my feet look like feet (instead of inflatable kayaks).

And I’m grateful to be back home from Utah, which was the scene of the swelling crime six years ago.  Something about being that far above sea level seemingly kicked off my incoming preeclampsia last time, and I’m glad Utah this year didn’t bring about any repeat performances.  (Also, I’ve only been to SLC twice, and both times I was seven months pregnant.  Weird theme.)

Blood sugars.  I still have them.  And they haven’t been entirely pleasant lately.  Some high numbers are returning in the evenings, which caused me to kick up my insulin : carb ratio for dinner as of this morning and I’m also side-eying my basal rate a little bit.  Still attempting to pre-bolus for as many meals as I can manage, which is working out pretty well.  I am aiming to keep my A1C in the same range it has been for as long as I can.

Some lows are back, only without symptoms at all, and those suck.  The other night, my CGM was screaming LOW for about an hour and I woke up the next morning with glucose tab dust all over the bedside table, a text message conversation on my phone that I have no recollection of having, and a low hangover that kicked my ass for hours.  Also, there was a missing burrito, which I can neither confirm nor deny responsibility for.

(Have I mentioned the Comfort Burritos that have lived in my freezer for the last five months?  Cravings were weird and intense during the first trimester, and there was a specific day when I NEEDED to have a burrito but didn’t want to eat so many carbs in one sitting, so I bought a frozen one and threw it in the fridge next to Animal.  It’s been in there since, comforting my cravings without having to be consumed.  I will plant it in the backyard after my son is born.  Perhaps a burrito tree will sprout?)

Baby kicks.  My daughter is strong and quick now, but I do not remember her being such an athlete in the womb.  However, her little brother is a storm of flying feet and hands at all times.

“Are you pregnant?” asked the lady next to me on my flight over the weekend.

“Yes, I am,” I confirmed, grateful for people who don’t assume/don’t say “WHOA! ARE YOU DUE TODAY?!”

“I thought so.   Your baby has been moving like crazy since we took off.  You have an active little one in there!”

Awesome.  You can see my son moving around through my shirt now.  And he clearly digs long flights.

Doctor’s appointments.  We’re turning up the dial on doctor’s appointments for this last trimester, moving to weekly appointments next week and then twice-weekly appointments until delivery.  My team at Beth Israel and Joslin are in sync and tracking me closely, in addition to keeping tabs on any eye disease progression (holding steady), kidney issues (none to speak of), and blood pressure spikes (still not back on BP medication yet, so feeling good about that).

I’m grateful to have so many medical professionals at the ready and tracking my baby’s progress.  (But I can’t lie; I’m looking forward to never seeing any of them again, post-delivery.  I’m emotionally done making that frigging drive to Boston.)

August.  We’re still working towards a late August escape date, with my body cooperating so far.  If the weather holds in this lovely 72 degrees and no humidity pattern for a few more weeks, I’ll be the happiest third trimester lady of all time.

Fifteen Minutes, Fifteen Grams.

I just needed fifteen minutes, after fifteen grams of carbs.

“I can’t go with you, because I need to eat something else and wait for my blood sugar to come up.  You guys can go without me and come right back, if you want?”

The sentences sounded soft and measured.  Sure, go for the bike ride around the neighborhood, dear daughter and trusted neighborhood friend.  I’ll just sit here and eat fifteen grams of carbohydrate, then wait patiently for fifteen minutes while the food works its magic.

Instead, I was shouting up at them from the bottom of the well, hoping my voice carried in a way that didn’t make my kid nervous, hoping she’s hearing the reassuring tones of my voice instead of the panicked inner monologue that was playing out:

“HEY!  Go on outside and play and don’t watch me mop the sweat from my forehead while I inhale two juice boxes and a packet of fruit snacks.  Ignore me while I fight back the urge to lie down on the kitchen floor and let this weird wave of unconsciousness wash over me.  Pretend not to notice that I’m looking through you instead of at you while I’m talking to you.  Go on outside and let mommy fall apart for fifteen minutes, after these fifteen grams of carbs.”

My daughter and her friend strapped on their bicycle helmets and took off down the street, enjoying the sunshine and almost-summer weather while I stuck a spoon into a jar of Nutella, not giving a shit if this was the best option or healthiest decision but mostly because I wanted to have something sweet on my tongue, reminding me that I was still here and capable of coming back from this low blood sugar and that I could start making dinner soon because I would be capable of standing unassisted, without fear of falling into the abyss, in just fifteen minutes, after fifteen grams of carbs.

Gimme a Beet!

Beets haven’t always been top-of-preference for my palette.  I read somewhere that people either love the taste of beets or think they taste like dirt, and I used to be in the latter camp.  But these days, beets are most desirable and I am looking for a calendar dedicated entirely to them, preferably wearing suspenders … and only suspenders.

Problem is, I had no idea how to cook them and preparing them leaves my kitchen counter looking like a game of Clue.

“It was in the kitchen!  With the carving knife!  And included spinach salad … ?”

But the Internet! This is what it was made for: Googling problems and then solving them with pixel power.  A quick search for “simple beets recipe” on Google images brought me to photos, and then to recipes, that were manageable with my limited kitchen talents.  (I prefer to search by images because if the image looks simple and easy, then the recipe hopefully is as well.  Also, images help me weed out evil food things, like weird, crumbly cheeses.)

Raw beets are what I’m craving, so a simple wash, peel, slice-and-dice plan of attack works perfectly and makes the beets easy to toss into a spinach salad.  I’ve read on several sites that cooking the beets strips away a lot of their power (read: they can’t fly and their x-ray vision goes to shit), but this salad looks awesome and I’m trying this one later today (minus the crispy toast bit).

Desperately, this morning I sliced and ate a beet on top of toast with cream cheese.  Which might read as disgusting and vile, but slap some olives on the side and chase it with a decaf iced coffee and that meal fast becomes a breakfast my pregnant-self craves, while my pre-pregnancy self shudders in the corner and makes faces of disgust.

Guest Post: TWINS!

Today I’m excited to be traveling to the Las Vegas JDRF TypeOneNation event (and hanging out with Sara…aaah), so while I’m in transit, Meredith Pack has offered to jump in with a guest post.  Meredith writes (at her leisure) over at With a Side of Insulin and is currently pregnant with twins. She and I share the same due date but a whole different pregnancy experience so far, and she’s weighing in with her take on building two babies while managing type 1 diabetes.

  *   *   *

When I sent Kerri a message to tell her I was pregnant, the last thing I expected to hear was, “Me too!’ and the last thing I expected after that was finding out our due dates were the exact same.

Now, since the first exciting conversation of sharing that news, we’ve learned how each other’s current pregnancy stories are a bit different. We both have type 1 diabetes, of course, but Kerri’s pregnancy came after a bit of time trying, and mine came with … a bonus.

TWINS! Twins with no family history. My family is joining a smaller-than-you-might-think tribe of moms and dads that parent multiples (except when you find out you’re having twins, suddenly everyone and their mother knows someone with twins … kinda like when you’re diagnosed with diabetes).

After the initial shock wore off, we’ve continued to digest what it’s going to be like to have three under two (go ahead, groan and give me the “I’m glad it’s you and not me” face … I’ve seen it plenty of times already!).

Everything goes through your mind: two cribs, the diapers, two carseats, two high chairs, the diapers, the food, the diapers, finances, food, three teenagers. All. The. Diapers. And you also think of the double fun it will be, with double snuggles, double giggles, double hugs, double first steps, first words, double siblings for our oldest – I’m sure it’s not going to be the easiest journey but we’re not the first nor the last family to do it.

When my son was born (15 months ago!), my blog fell by the wayside. the things I wanted to do in my free time changed drastically, so I don’t blog regularly anymore. Ok, that’s a lie; I don’t blog anymore.  Although now I am starting to get mom guilt over the fact that I did weekly posts my last pregnancy, and what if someday these babies ask me why I didn’t do that with them?  I also find myself looking back at those posts and comparing pregnancies as well as reading things I had forgotten about, so I might pick the blog back up again so I remember everything about being pregnant with twins.

So far, it’s not too different. Minus the expanding belly bump happening earlier and the insane glucoasters I was on for the first month or so (which has since been explained … fraternal twins. two placentas, double hormones, double the crazy blood sugars).

Since then, my blood sugars have stabilized a bit more, and I am in weekly contact with Dr. Awesome to make adjustments as needed.

Kerri and I talk a few times a week, comparing second pregnancy notes (and contrasting twin vs singleton pregnancies) and making each other feel better about the challenge of pregnancy and diabetes that we’re rocking.

When I saw my endocrinologist this week, I expressed my concern over my A1C – which wasn’t high by any means – and how I wanted that number to keep dropping … ya know, mom worry sets in way before the babies are born. Moms, you can relate. He told me (and YES OF COURSE I remember the exact thing he said), “You’re doing a good job. You have two placentas, which means you have double hormones and everything else changing in your body to contend with. Your blood sugars are good, so keep up what you’re doing. All things considered, these babies will be just fine.’

Double hormones you guys. Double. Hormones.

I’m sure there are going to be many differences (and similarities) in the upcoming months. Here’s hoping those babies keep baking until 36+ weeks!

21 weeks left … but who’s counting?

Six Until You.

Dear Baby,

Six years ago, I gave birth to your sister.  It was the most incredible moment of my life, and up until recently, she’s been my top-notch, absolute favorite person in the world.

“But wait … now I’ll be your favorite because I’m your first, and my brother will be your favorite because he’s your last,” interrupted Birdy, who has taken to writing you notes and sealing the envelopes so I can’t peek inside.

Exactly.  She will always be my strange and beautiful Bird and you, you are becoming a little someone who will change our lives again in ways I can’t predict but I know will be awesome and overwhelming.

It’s been over two years that we’ve hoped for you and it’s been a rough go for a dozen reasons, but now, my heart has tried to leave behind that hurt in pursuit of fully investing in hope.  And every time I see your little face on the ultrasound screen or hear the technician say, “Wow, this one loves to dance around,” that hope is renewed.

For now, we wait.  Patiently.  While we wait, my health takes priority in efforts to maintain yours, which is a journey all itself, and I pick through bins of saved baby clothes from the basement, kept in hopes of your someday arrival. (Here’s hoping you like Batman.)

I love you, kiddo.  I have for a long time.  And we can’t wait to meet you and immerse your little self into the never-ending chaos of our family later this summer.

Love always and forever,


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