When restarting my blog again, I promised myself I would document my pregnancy the best I could. This meant portraying the good, the bad, and the ugly. Well, this is the ugly. I have finally made it to week 34 … Continue reading
So, when are you due? This is the question I am asked all day everyday, especially the more prominent I begin to show. Although I knew my due date, November 26th, I didn’t know quite how to answer this simple question.
I knew I would be induced before this time, but I wasn’t sure when. My fetal medicine doctor projected it to be when I was around 38 to 39 weeks, but it still wasn’t confirmed. So, I usually just told people mid-November. Well, I finally got my answer.
Last week at my gynecologist appointment where the usual weekly protocol was taking place; ultrasound, belly and weight measurement, blood pressure check, protein urine test, etc. I was asked the most unusual question. “When would you like your due date to be?” Sure, I was expecting the now standard shakedown, “How is your blood sugar doing?” “Has your blood work come back yet?” “When was your last endocrinologist appointment?” However, this question was far from my radar.
After careful deliberation, we finally settled on the dates November 15th or 16th depending on my state and the hospital. Now, you all probably might be wondering what the process will be, when do I need to be at the hospital, will it be a natural birth or C-section, what will the timing be like for an induction birth and so forth.
Well, unfortunately I have my own speculations, but I can’t answer any of those for you yet. The truth is, I was so dumbfounded a date had been scheduled for my baby to be delivered, everything else just went out the window. The whole rest of the appointment I was in such a trance of wrapping my head around the fact my baby now has a due date all else was lost.
All I kept thinking was those notes on the signs of labor and when to go to the hospital are things I no longer have to worry about, unless I am early. I can just arrive at the hospital with a goodnight’s rest under my belt, thoughtfully packed hospital bag in hand and ask to be directed to my room. Well, that is how I picture it in my fairytale head anyways.
However, I can answer confidently now, “Yes, she will be coming out, and it will be either November 15th or 16th.”
It’s 10 p.m., and I’m doing my nightly blood sugar check. The glucose monitor reads 118 mg/dl, and I plug it into my Dexcom. Perfect! I can sleep soundly tonight knowing I am sure to not have any annoying high blood sugar alarms go off on my phone and be smooth sailing until the morning. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. the next morning to have my Dexcom read a lovely 120 mg/dl blood sugar level. Yes! I happily double-check it with my glucose meter to find an alarming 177 mg/dl! What a pleasant morning surprise…
I then proceed to spend the next few hours drowning myself in insulin and water to lower my blood sugar. I’m now 30 weeks into my pregnancy and things are getting tough.
I do not recommend this at all, but over bolusing or giving myself a shit ton of more insulin through my pump than is recommended is a constant. If I eat 35 grams of carbs for lunch, I calculate into my pump 75 grams. Even a nice healthy salad is worth 60 grams of carbs according to my new calculations.
Trust me, I hear the all knowing voices now, “Talk to your endocrinologist and adjust your pump settings.” But, sometimes you feel like your just fighting a losing battle. In the past couple of weeks, my body has become so sensitive to everything I consume, my blood sugar chart looks like a rocket going into orbit after every meal.
It also doesn’t help the further along in your pregnancy you are the more insulin resistant you become. The doctor warned me this phenomenon would happen and to be prepared to start taking double the amount of insulin. However, they do not tell you in lieu of this new adjustment, you will also want to eat everything in sight as well. A great combination…
Right now as I sit in my favorite coffee shop, I can smell the aroma of cooked bacon and sausage in the air. French toast and pancakes are on the griddle, and in my line of vision are warm and gooey cinnamon rolls and hot muffins. I might need to rethink a new favorite hang out.
I’m almost to the finish line, but boy is this tough sometimes.
Rewind three years ago. It was mid-March, and I was in the hospital. I could see the doctor’s mouth moving explaining undeniably important information to me about my diagnosis and how my life would be turned upside down. However, instead of listening intently, I was off in my own world thinking about all the new what-ifs in life.
One of the biggest what-ifs I had was whether or not children would ever be in my future and if I would pass down this horrible disease to them. My mind was made up at that point. I wouldn’t have children if passing down this horrific disease was a possibility. How could I live with myself knowing I might cause harm to such an innocent baby before he/she was even born? I could never be that selfish no matter how much I wanted to be a mom. These thoughts were the ones that haunted me.
So, when Aaron and I started discussing our future plans and if it would include children, I started to do some extensive research on the matter before we got too far. Here is what I found out according to the Joslin Diabetes Center website (http://www.joslin.org/info/genetics_and_diabetes.html).
If an immediate relative (parent, brother, sister, son or daughter) has type 1 diabetes, one’s risk of developing type 1 diabetes is 10 to 20 times the risk of the general population; your risk can go from 1 in 100 to roughly 1 in 10 or possibly higher, depending on which family member has the diabetes and when they developed it.
The risk for a child of a parent with type 1 diabetes is lower if it is the mother — rather than the father — who has diabetes. “If the father has it, the risk is about 1 in 10 (10 percent) that his child will develop type 1 diabetes — the same as the risk to a sibling of an affected child,” Dr. Warram says. On the other hand, if the mother has type 1 diabetes and is age 25 or younger when the child is born, the risk is reduced to 1 in 25 (4 percent) and if the mother is over age 25, the risk drops to 1 in 100 — virtually the same as the average American.
If one of the parents developed type 1 diabetes before age 11, their child’s risk of developing type 1 diabetes is somewhat higher than these figures and lower if the parent was diagnosed after their 11th birthday.
Breaking this down into how it is relatable to me means the following: I am the one with Type 1 Diabetes (the mother), I was diagnosed when I was 23 years old (after my 11th birthday), and I am 26 years old right now and pregnant (so I am older than 25 dropping the risk to 1 in 100).
Keeping these figures in mind and knowing we have the best possible outcome given our situation, well you can guess what Aaron and I decided to do. I am now almost 28 weeks pregnant having a little girl.
Of course this doesn’t mean all my worries have been swept away. I personally do not function that way. I will always keep a watchful eye out for the tall tale signs and keep ketone strips in her diaper bag. But, will it be something I tell her I’m worried about? Absolutely not. I guess that’s just part of being a mother.