We went this morning for our down syndrome screening test, which meant that we got to see Baby B. on the ultrasound again! Our little one was really funny and wouldn’t hold still for the tech to get the right pictures. Every time she went to take the image, the baby would wiggle around and go somewhere else. Then the baby must have worn itself out as after that (s)he remained in one place and wouldn’t move at all no matter what we did. By that time, the tech needed the baby to move, so all in all, Baby B. was pretty uncooperative, but I loved it because that meant we got to watch longer while the tech tried to get all the right shots.
All of the thoughts I had during the ultrasound were so interesting. At first I felt like a bad mom, like I couldn’t get my baby to listen to directions and get it to do what it was supposed to do. I know—crazy! Then, I just sat back and enjoyed the show, laughing every time the baby swam away from the position it was in. I wondered what this little glimpse into the baby’s world meant for his/her future. Is Baby B. going to be playful, rambunctious, comical, naughty (in a cute way, of course!)?
The feeling after I have an ultrasound is one of such pure joy and peace. It’s hard to concentrate at work and not just daydream about what is going on all day with the baby. It’s so interesting to see Baby B.’s world, I wish I could peak in more often. Just watching the way (s)he moves could keep me entertained all day!
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
A lime!
Every Monday I eagerly check my What to Expect When You’re Expecting iPhone app (highly recommend!), which tells you what size your growing baby is in comparison to a fruit or veggie. So far, the items of comparison have been pretty small—sweet pea, blueberry, grape, etc. But yesterday, it told me that Baby B. is as big as a lime! For some reason, this one made an impact. I can’t believe how quickly this child is growing already.
It’s so incredible to think about what is going on inside my body every second of each day, especially after seeing Baby B. during the second ultrasound. Sometimes in the day to day grind, I forget the monumental changes that are going on inside. I’ve been feeling really tired the past few days, and my husband thinks that must mean the baby is growing a lot on days when I am so tired. Maybe he’s right, after all, a lime is pretty big!
It’s so incredible to think about what is going on inside my body every second of each day, especially after seeing Baby B. during the second ultrasound. Sometimes in the day to day grind, I forget the monumental changes that are going on inside. I’ve been feeling really tired the past few days, and my husband thinks that must mean the baby is growing a lot on days when I am so tired. Maybe he’s right, after all, a lime is pretty big!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Lowest of the lows
Well, it finally happened. After 13 years with diabetes, and some very scary lows as of late, I finally went low enough that the paramedics had to be called. Thankfully, my wonderful husband did everything right and both Baby B. and I seem to be fine. But, this episode has really gotten to me more mentally than anything else. It started on Monday night after having dinner with some friends. I took a cab home and I think the combination of “morning” sickness and the jerky cab ride home made me throw up as soon as I got home. I still, unfortunately, had all the insulin that I took in my system, which all added up to a recipe for disaster.
The next thing I remember was waking up with an oxygen mask on and what I thought were aliens working on me. Of course, in a few more minutes, I realized that the aliens were paramedics and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I must have gone so low that my husband was forced to call 911. I remained in a bit of a daze for a few more minutes and was forced to be alone with the thoughts that I wasn’t yet able to verbalize. Of course I was terrified for the baby and wanted desperately to know if I had done any harm to my child. I was embarrassed that I let myself get to a point where neither I nor my husband could be in control of the situation. I wondered if my husband had called my parents, and hoped that he hadn’t because there was nothing they could do and I didn’t want to scare them until at least I knew what was happening. I was embarrassed that my apartment wasn’t as clean as I would have liked for outside company, even if it was aliens! I also wondered why the lampshade was knocked off of the lamp that was next to me (I found out later that the paramedics needed more light in order to get an IV into me).
After a few minutes, I was alert and with it enough to talk. Of course the first words that I remember saying were, "I'm pregnant." Several times I felt the need to tell the aliens that I was pregnant, just in case my husband had somehow forgotten to mention it to them, or in case they didn’t hear me the first few times. I wanted them to know that I really was a good mother-to-be even though I wondered if they thought otherwise since I had let myself get to this point.
Finally, even though it seemed far too soon, the aliens asked me to get up. Those first steps that I took were the most unsure steps that I ever remember taking. But with my husband’s support, I was able to get up and put one foot in front of the other. At this point I was beyond freezing. I’m not sure why, but I sometimes get cold after going low, and since I was extra low this time, I was also extra cold. I was trembling uncontrollably, and to make matters worse, my clothes were literally soaked through from sweat, which didn’t help. It was the unshakable freezing sensation that motivated me to get up and get changed into sweats. After I was changed, the aliens strongly recommended that I go to the hospital, which I did. I wanted desperately for someone with “Dr.” at the beginning of their name to tell me that everything was ok with the baby.
So off to the ER we went—ambulance and all. I made the paramedics take me down the freight elevator in our building because I was too embarrassed to go down the regular elevator. I remember wanting to put the sheet that was covering me over my head, but didn’t want to scare anyone who saw me into thinking that there was a corpse under the sheet (seriously, who has these thoughts?!). The aliens/paramedics, ER doctors and nurses were all fantastic. They all assured me that the baby would most likely be fine. My husband and I convinced the doctors to do an ultrasound, and they were able to find that magical heartbeat. After giving me some IV fluids, and a prescription for Zofran to help with my nausea, they let me go home about four hours after this whole mess started.
Luckily, I happened to have an appointment at my diabetes center the next morning with my diabetes educator. When I told her what happened, she got my endo to come in as well and the three of us had a pow-wow. They advised that I get a CGM, if for nothing else than the alarms that will go off when I’m headed low. They recommended that I start taking the Zofran so I will be able to keep food down and hopefully avoid a similar situation. They also lowered some of my basal rates after seeing the persistent lows that peppered my log sheets. I really felt like they weren’t just my medical team, but that they truly cared and never wanted me to never have to go through this again. My endo even called me this morning just to check in because he could tell that I was shaken by what happened.
I just feel run down by this whole thing. I feel like a burden. I feel helpless, even though there are a lot of tools that I now have in place to make sure this doesn’t happen again. I feel like I am losing the mental “what if” game that I know I shouldn’t be playing. I feel like I am unprepared to take care of another human being when I clearly can’t take care of myself. I feel overwhelmed by the guilt of putting my husband through this ordeal, which I know was much scarier for him than it was for me.
I think mostly, however, I just feel defeated, and that the severity of this disease has finally revealed itself after years of just being an inconvenience in my life. I know I’ll be able to move on and get over this, but right now, even though my blood sugars are fine, I am feeling pretty low.
The next thing I remember was waking up with an oxygen mask on and what I thought were aliens working on me. Of course, in a few more minutes, I realized that the aliens were paramedics and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I must have gone so low that my husband was forced to call 911. I remained in a bit of a daze for a few more minutes and was forced to be alone with the thoughts that I wasn’t yet able to verbalize. Of course I was terrified for the baby and wanted desperately to know if I had done any harm to my child. I was embarrassed that I let myself get to a point where neither I nor my husband could be in control of the situation. I wondered if my husband had called my parents, and hoped that he hadn’t because there was nothing they could do and I didn’t want to scare them until at least I knew what was happening. I was embarrassed that my apartment wasn’t as clean as I would have liked for outside company, even if it was aliens! I also wondered why the lampshade was knocked off of the lamp that was next to me (I found out later that the paramedics needed more light in order to get an IV into me).
After a few minutes, I was alert and with it enough to talk. Of course the first words that I remember saying were, "I'm pregnant." Several times I felt the need to tell the aliens that I was pregnant, just in case my husband had somehow forgotten to mention it to them, or in case they didn’t hear me the first few times. I wanted them to know that I really was a good mother-to-be even though I wondered if they thought otherwise since I had let myself get to this point.
Finally, even though it seemed far too soon, the aliens asked me to get up. Those first steps that I took were the most unsure steps that I ever remember taking. But with my husband’s support, I was able to get up and put one foot in front of the other. At this point I was beyond freezing. I’m not sure why, but I sometimes get cold after going low, and since I was extra low this time, I was also extra cold. I was trembling uncontrollably, and to make matters worse, my clothes were literally soaked through from sweat, which didn’t help. It was the unshakable freezing sensation that motivated me to get up and get changed into sweats. After I was changed, the aliens strongly recommended that I go to the hospital, which I did. I wanted desperately for someone with “Dr.” at the beginning of their name to tell me that everything was ok with the baby.
So off to the ER we went—ambulance and all. I made the paramedics take me down the freight elevator in our building because I was too embarrassed to go down the regular elevator. I remember wanting to put the sheet that was covering me over my head, but didn’t want to scare anyone who saw me into thinking that there was a corpse under the sheet (seriously, who has these thoughts?!). The aliens/paramedics, ER doctors and nurses were all fantastic. They all assured me that the baby would most likely be fine. My husband and I convinced the doctors to do an ultrasound, and they were able to find that magical heartbeat. After giving me some IV fluids, and a prescription for Zofran to help with my nausea, they let me go home about four hours after this whole mess started.
Luckily, I happened to have an appointment at my diabetes center the next morning with my diabetes educator. When I told her what happened, she got my endo to come in as well and the three of us had a pow-wow. They advised that I get a CGM, if for nothing else than the alarms that will go off when I’m headed low. They recommended that I start taking the Zofran so I will be able to keep food down and hopefully avoid a similar situation. They also lowered some of my basal rates after seeing the persistent lows that peppered my log sheets. I really felt like they weren’t just my medical team, but that they truly cared and never wanted me to never have to go through this again. My endo even called me this morning just to check in because he could tell that I was shaken by what happened.
I just feel run down by this whole thing. I feel like a burden. I feel helpless, even though there are a lot of tools that I now have in place to make sure this doesn’t happen again. I feel like I am losing the mental “what if” game that I know I shouldn’t be playing. I feel like I am unprepared to take care of another human being when I clearly can’t take care of myself. I feel overwhelmed by the guilt of putting my husband through this ordeal, which I know was much scarier for him than it was for me.
I think mostly, however, I just feel defeated, and that the severity of this disease has finally revealed itself after years of just being an inconvenience in my life. I know I’ll be able to move on and get over this, but right now, even though my blood sugars are fine, I am feeling pretty low.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Calm before the storm
I must say that so far, being pregnant has made my numbers ridiculously stable. I tend to coast through the day in the 80’s, 90’s and low 100’s without much effort. Although I wake up low every morning, and lowering my basal still hasn’t helped with that, that morning low has been the only misbehaved number most days. I know this extremely stable roll that I’m on is going to come to a screeching halt once I get through the first trimester, but for now, I’m really enjoying it! It’s almost like if you took away my pump, the carb counting and my 10-12 tests a day, I don’t have diabetes anymore. ;)
Even my endo can’t believe how well controlled my numbers are. I’m actually pretty sure he thinks I’m faking my log books, but for once, I don’t have to… not that I ever have. Who would do such a thing?!?
Given all the “morning” sickness I’ve had to deal with, I feel very lucky that somehow that has not affected my numbers. I’m not sure why I’m not going low more often, but I’ll take what I can get! I have heard of the infamous 1st trimester lows, which I feel lucky to have avoided so far, but I’ve read that those don’t start for some people until week nine or so, so I could be eating my words next week. Time will tell, but right now I'm enjoying my ride on easy street.
Even my endo can’t believe how well controlled my numbers are. I’m actually pretty sure he thinks I’m faking my log books, but for once, I don’t have to… not that I ever have. Who would do such a thing?!?
Given all the “morning” sickness I’ve had to deal with, I feel very lucky that somehow that has not affected my numbers. I’m not sure why I’m not going low more often, but I’ll take what I can get! I have heard of the infamous 1st trimester lows, which I feel lucky to have avoided so far, but I’ve read that those don’t start for some people until week nine or so, so I could be eating my words next week. Time will tell, but right now I'm enjoying my ride on easy street.
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