Song Lyric of the Day:
I want candy / I want candy
I had gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with Coraline. Apparently age and ethnicity play into the likelihood of developing it during pregnancy. And while one of my OBs tried to be optimistic about me not having it this time around, he was wrong. I failed the one-hour glucose test so spectacularly — I got 203 when the highest they wanted was 130 — that I didn’t even have to take the three-hour test like I did with Coraline. It was straight from failing the one-hour test to the high-risk OB. Do not pass go.
While pregnant with Coraline, it was easy-peasy to manage my gestational diabetes. I took Metformin. That was it. Well, I also didn’t overeat or go crazy with carb- and sugar-heavy foods, because once the doctors explained that a lot of those giant babies who make the news were the result of moms who let their gestational diabetes get out of control, I vowed to be good. But one magic pill and everything was under control. For that pregnancy, anyway.
Unfortunately, this time around thanks to my super-high score on my one-hour glucose test, the docs could tell my body was not producing/managing insulin the way it was supposed to. Which meant no magic Metformin. This time around I have to take Glyburide at bedtime and — the horror — inject myself twice a day with insulin, once before lunch and again before dinner. So managing gestational diabetes has been as fun this time around as it sounds. The Glyburide was causing me to have scary-low fasting blood sugar levels when I woke up and to have fogged vision every morning, which would last anywhere from a couple of hours to up to about six hours one day, so I was told to cut the already tiny 2.5 mg pill in half. I was still having fogged vision even with the lower dose, but — knock on wood — my body seems to have finally decided to play nice with the Glyburide.
The insulin … oofta. That was a problem from the get-go. I was originally prescribed 10ccs per shot. That turned out to be way too much. I was told to go down to 8ccs per shot. That was still to much, so I had to go down to 6ccs. That seemed to almost still be too much, so I tried 4ccs, which ended up not being enough. I am now back up to 6ccs and that also seems to have stabilized. But at the wrong (higher) doses, my blood sugar levels were way too low. I was getting shaky and woozy, which, after having fogged vision to deal with, was not making me a very happy camper. Not to mention I was worried what that might be doing to Little Dude. Fingers crossed that at my next high-risk OB appointment they’ll be happy with the numbers I have had since sticking with the 6cc shots.
This is where I should mention that I hate needles. HATE. THEM. I can’t even watch injections or blood draws on TV shows and in movies. So being told I had to inject myself twice a day was not something I wanted to hear. Thankfully, the needle is teeny tiny on the preloaded insulin pen. And since I have to inject it straight into my belly, I usually don’t feel the shot. Now, having to draw blood to test my glucose levels four times a day — that hurts. Some days my fingertips won’t stop bleeding right away; I’ve gone through a ton of Band-Aids these last few weeks. Other days I forget which hand I was taking blood from and end up with bruised fingertips when I double-draw from them. Good times.
So while gestational diabetes has been a royal pain in my ass this time around, I’m happy to take a tiny pill and inject myself with insulin to keep my little boy healthy (and non-gigantic). Still, I would kill to be able to have a second helping of pasta now and then. God, I miss carbs. And candy.