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Thursday, May 31, 2012

Birth Story: Part 2

See Part 1 here.  

Dr. P gets into her scrubs while W instructs me on how to push.  I was to wait until I'm at the peak of my contraction, hold my breath, curl over my stomach, and push into my bottom like I'm about to poo.  I would push for 10 seconds, take a breath, and do it again 3 times for each contraction.  The next contraction comes and I go to push.  I pushed so hard I started shaking.  The nurses told me to hold my breath and go again.  I would get 2 good pushes, but the third was too exhausting for me to give my full strength.  

Pushing wasn't relieving or felt like it was going anywhere.  Dr. P checked me in between contractions and she had a look on her face that I knew wasn't good.  "Listen, sweetheart, if you want to get this baby out, you're going to be pushing for a long time.  I'm just warning you.  She's still really high."  Her words were discouraging, but they didn't stop me.  I kept pushing as hard as I could.  All the nurses were really encouraging and kept telling me how good I was doing, but Dr. P's face remained cold.  She checked me again and told me that baby was sunny side up and still really high.  (Note: A sunny side up baby is really difficult to push out because a baby's spine naturally curves into a C-shape while in utero.  So a baby facing up is coming from the back part of the vagina and against gravity.  It's like trying to take a poop upside down.)  She said if I had had an epidural that she might have been able to turn her.  Go figure, my plan to avoid pain meds to keep the labor progressing backfired on me.  

I tried a few more pushes, but still nothing was happening.  Dr. P got really serious with me.  "I know I'm not your doctor, so it won't hurt my feelings if you want to wait.  But I'm telling you now, it's looking futile for the baby to come out this way."  She asked what I wanted to do.  I looked at Trey and he said, "Do you want to go in and get her?"  I shook my head and said I wanted to wait on my doctor.  Dr. P went to go call my doctor on her cell phone, but as soon as she hit send, he comes through the door.  Everyone let out a "Hey!" because it surprised all of us.  Dr. P caught him up about my sunny side up baby and the fact that I had been pushing for 1.5 hours and the baby wasn't moving.  My doctor let me try a few pushes with him there, and he agreed.  With the greatest sincerity, he looked at me and said, "You can keep pushing if you want.  Baby's heart rate is fine at this point, but it's unlikely that pushing would change her position.  Or you would push just enough that she could get stuck, then it becomes an emergency situation.  If you were my wife, I would tell you it would be best for both of you if I go in and get her."  

I turned to my left and looked at my husband.  "I can't make this decision by myself.  What should I do?"  Stroking my hair, "I want both of you out of here in one piece.  Let's go get her!"  I turned back to my doctor.  "Is that what you think I should do?"  "I do, sweetheart.  Let's get her now while she is still in good shape."  At this point, all eyes are on me.  It didn't matter what my doctor thought, my husband thought, or what the janitor thought.  I was the one who needed to make this decision.  The silent pause was deafening.  I closed my eyes and said, "OK, let's go get her."  

Everyone started moving.  One of the nurses gave Trey some scrubs to put over his clothes.  I leaned over in the bed, still trying to get through the contractions I was feeling.  But without the pressure to push, I just clenched up and tried to get through the pain.  Before the nurses took me out, my doctor leaned over the bed, put his hand on my head, and whispered, "I'm so sorry.  I know this wasn't what you wanted.  But I promise it will be fine."  I shook my head in agreement.  "I know."  

The doors opened and I was wheeled into the bright lights of the hallway down to the operating room.  A contraction hit right as I was wheeled into the room.  So the anesthesiologist had to wait to administer the spinal until it was over.  An older nurse, who I never got her name but I affectionately referred to as "Madge", helped me sit up and let me hug her while the contraction had me writhing in pain.  Once the contraction was over, the anesthesiologist gave me a shot of morphin to calm me, then the spinal.  As soon the spinal took effect, my legs immediately felt like jello and the relief was overwhelming.  I was feeling GOOOOOOD!  All the pain was gone, and I was calm enough to take in what was happening.  I kept asking where Trey was, and the nurse said he's right outside.  (I would later learn that he and my doctor were outside talking together, and they were discussing how I much I had made the right decision.  But more on that in a later post.)   

My doctor comes in and asks me if I could feel the pinch he just gave me.  I couldn't feel anything past my chest.  I joked that I would pinch him later.  I could hear him laugh underneath his mask.  In the pain-free state I was in, I got the courage to thank him for everything he had done for me since day one of my pregnancy.  "My pleasure," he said.  Finally, Trey comes in, scrubs and hairnet attire, and takes a seat at my head.  He kissed me on the forehead and told me he loved me and how proud he was of me.  Not sure if kissing was allowed in the operating room, but we stole one as our daughter was being born. 

Not 5 minutes later, one of the nurses asked if Dad had brought a camera.  In the chaos from the labor and delivery room to the OR, no one thought to grab our camera.  I remember I said that it was OK, that I didn't want my baby's first pictures to be from a surgery room.  A few seconds later, I hear this gurgling sound followed by a baby crying.  My baby was crying!  Trey stood up and looked over the curtain to see.  I started crying and listening to the sounds of her strong lungs.  Trey got up and went with the nurse to wrap her up.  They brought her over to me and showed me her head full of hair and all her fingers and toes.  "Give her a kiss, Momma.  She's going to go with Dad to be checked out."  I gave her a kiss on her temple.  Her skin was so soft and warm.  "Hi there!  I'll see you later, OK?"  And my daughter left in my husband's arms to the nursery.  

My doctor stitched me up.  I remember at one point that one of the nurses asked "Staples or sutures?"  "Staples, she's diabetic."  I was so tired.  I kept looking at the ceiling and coming down from the high of the pain and the few seconds that just happened.  I almost fell asleep right there.  After I was put back together, I was wheeled into the short-term recovery room.  

In the recovery room, my first nurse K was there and going over my vitals.  She said I would be here roughly an hour.  Trey walked in, no scrubs but still with a hairnet, holding our daughter in a burrito swaddle.  "You wanna hold her?"  I only had enough strength to nod my head.  Because I was still so out of it from the surgery, Trey helped me put her on my chest.  I kept staring at her.  She looked like my dad.  All the grandparents came in one-by-one to check on me and to take another peek at our little girl.  We both just laid there and I took in the moment that I was holding my daughter.  I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world at that moment. 

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Birth Story: Part 1

It's been a week since my daughter's birth.  And I finally feel ready to blog about it.  Partly because I've finally had time to collect my thoughts on it, but mostly because I've had time to deal with it emotionally.  Let's get one thing straight first:  I have a perfectly healthy little girl sleeping in my lap right now and that was always the priority.  But I want to be sincere about how things went, that's always been my goal with this blog.  If you wanted to stop by and read a pleasant birth story that ended in rainbows and unicorns, then I suggest you search on.  I also will not spare the gruesome details (Sorry, guys.) because I am writing this story as if I'm writing to myself from a year ago.  I wanted to know all the gritty details, emotions included.  With all that said, on to the story!

My doctor scheduled my induction beginning Monday night the 21st.  Trey and I went in to the hospital around 9 pm to check in.  My nurse K instructed me to lose all my clothes (but I was given the option of keeping my bra, which I took) and gave me a smock to wear that tied on the side.  Then she set up the fetal monitors on my belly that would keep track of baby's heartbeat and my contractions.  As soon as she set up the monitors, she could see that I was already having contractions of my own!  Really small ones, about 5 minutes apart, that I couldn't feel at all.  So that was encouraging to hear.  Because I was already contracting on my own, I was only give a half dose of cytotec to soften up my cervix (which was still at 1 cm, 80% effaced).  She put in my IV, which was the worst part for me to get through.  Trey held my right hand while she inserted the needle into my left vein.  My blood pressure rose during this part, but that was the only time it gave me any trouble.  

Finally, we were left to sleep for 4 hours until she would come back and give me the other half dose of cytotec.  At this point, I still have my pump on and keeping track of my blood sugars myself with testing and my CGM.  About 15 minutes before I was to get my second round of cytotec, I had a bad low blood sugar of 44 mg/dL.  The contractions I wasn't feeling were starting to have an effect on me.  I brought my own juice boxes, so I drained 2 and turned off my pump (it stayed off until about 9 am the next morning).  I took the second dose of cytotec and started feeling mini contractions around the time I woke up at 5 AM.  They weren't painful, just exciting because I was started to feel something.  

At 7 am on the 22nd, I met my day nurses W and M.  They would be by my side during the entire labor process.  They checked me again and I was now 2 cm but still 80% effaced, the goal of cytotec was to get me to 3 cm.  They went to consult my doctor to see if they wanted to administer another round of cytotec, which would delay starting the pitocin another 4 hours, or if we wanted to get the show on the road.  The result was to go ahead and start pitocin.  So by 7:45 am, I was on the pitocin IV drip.  I asked W when I would start feeling anything, and she said it usually takes about an hour.  At this point, things were not painful and, honestly, kind of boring.  I practiced breathing through the mini contractions that I did feel while listening to the radio on my iPod.  

The nurses contacted my endocrinologist about putting me on an insulin drip, but he made the call to let me keep my pump on and check myself every hour.  I was forever grateful that decision was made, because it gave me control in a situation where everything else was out of my control.  So I was checking myself every hour, and the nurses would record it.  I was cruising in the 150s for most of my labor, but my endocrinologist said that was fine as long as I didn't go over 200.  I think the risk of me going low during labor was more important than trying to keep a perfect 100 the whole time. 

At 9:30 am, my OB came in and greeted me.  He gave me the option of continuing with my labor as it was or going ahead and breaking my water.  I chose to break my water because I still wasn't feeling the contractions and I was still at 2 cm, so I figured we needed more momentum.  After my water was broken, I got on an aerobic ball and started breathing through my contractions that started to be noticeable.  Nurse W asked what would be the best care for me, and I said I just didn't want to stall out on my labor.  I wasn't afraid of the pain because I have  pretty high pain tolerance.  I was only worried about my endurance and being in labor for days!  So W wrote on the white board on my wall:  "Keep things going" as my goal for care.  

About an hour later, I hit active labor.  My contractions were coming in waves and becoming more intense, but still nothing I would consider painful or something I couldn't get through.  So far, Trey has just been hanging out with me and eating breakfast.  I told him I would let him know when he needed to come into the game.  All I said was "I need you" and he jumped in like a pitcher coming out of the bull pen.  He applied counter pressure to my back and hips through each contraction.  And in between contractions he rubbed my shoulders and feet to give me comfort.  The ball worked great for me in working through the contractions.  The best position for me was being on the ball, rocking back and forth, with Trey behind me on the edge of the bed or in a chair.  Also at this time, my contractions required all my concentration.  So when it was time to check my blood sugar, I would just stick my hand out and Trey would check it for me.  I know I wouldn't have made it through labor without his support.  

Around lunch time, my doctor came to check me again and I was at 4 cm.  I was starting to get a little frustrated with how slow this whole thing was going.  So M suggested that I labor on my sides for awhile to help the baby move down into my pelvis.  This was not a comfortable position at all, but it seemed to intensify the contractions.  Trey got out the heating pad we brought and applied it to my back during my contractions with pressure.  He eventually had to go eat lunch, so W and he rotated out during back compressions.   The pain was increasing, and I started low moaning.  I thought I would feel embarrassed doing this, but the nurses actually coached me through the breathing so I didn't feel so awkward. 

Sometime in the afternoon, M was keeping an eye on baby's heartbeat.  She was fine, but she wasn't responding to the contractions like they wanted.  So they gave me an oxygen mask to wake her up.  The mask was great because it gave me cool air to breathe and was very relaxing during this whole process.  At this point, I'm laboring on my knees on the bed, leaning over the back of the bed.  So imagine this picture:  a woman in labor, wearing a smock, low moaning every 2-3 minutes like a cow, with an oxygen mask on her face.  I had officially lost my dignity.  

Around 5 pm, things really picked up because I was at 7cm, 90% thinned out.  "Sweet!"  I remember sighing.  Trey laughed.  This meant I had made it.  I was at the point of no return for pain meds and it looked like I would be delivering my baby soon.  However, the contractions were increasing in intensity.  It took all my strength to moan and breathe through them.  Only once did I say, "I can't do this!" to which Trey quickly responded "Yes, you can.  You are doing it!"  I just had to get through each contraction and rest.  I felt enough relief in between each contraction to refill my energy tank.  

It seemed like I went from 7 cm to fully dilated within an hour, so the nurses went to call my doctor and have him come over for delivery.  Meanwhile, my contractions were stretching my pelvis to the max.  It felt like I had a 25-lb. medicine ball that was being stretched to a 50-lb. ball and deflating back down to 25-lbs.  I wasn't getting the full relief of the contractions I had at 7 cm.  Also, M told me that my doctor got called to an emergency surgery, so I had at least an hour before I could start pushing.  I went from low moaning to grunting/screaming during contractions, squeezing the bed rails like I was going through an exorcism.  They turned off the pitocin to hopefully give me some relief before my doctor could get there.  It didn't help.  My contractions went from every 2 minutes to every 3 minutes, but still no downtime from the pain.  

After an hour of being fully dilated, the nurses decided that the baby was coming soon and someone needed to be there to catch it.  So they got the on-call doctor and my room doubled in audience almost immediately.  I initially requested that Trey be the only family member in the room when the baby was born, and I'm glad because I'm not sure where anyone else would go!  I had my 2 nurses, the baby's nurse--who I would officially meet the next day--prepping the incubator table right next to me, and 3 delivery nurses (not sure, but I think one was an observing student).  They brought up the stirrups for me to start pushing.  I was so exhausted from being in labor for 10 hours, but I felt relieved that the end was in sight.  I just needed to muster the strength to push.  

The on-call doctor comes in and introduces herself while I'm fully naked (minus my sports bra) with my goods pointing straight out to the world, sweat pouring out from every surface I had.  "Hello, I'm Dr. P and I'll be delivering your baby." 

Part 2 . . .

Saturday, May 26, 2012

In Love

It's been a crazy week at the hospital since my induction started on Monday night, but most importantly is the fact that my daughter is here and healthy.  She was born on May 22, 2012 at 7:18 pm, 8 lbs 8 oz and 20.5 inches long.  She is perfect, from her full head of hair to her audible poops.  Full story to come later, until then a picture!  

My beautiful daughter!
A picture worth a thousand kisses.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Dear Daughter

Dear Daughter,

Hello, Sweetheart. I don't know if you can hear me, but you seem to respond when I laugh or hear Daddy talk. So I'm going to assume that you can for just a little bit.

Tomorrow is a big day for you because it is your birthday! I know it's probably not what you're expecting. I know you'd rather hang out in your hot tub for a few more days or weeks, even. But this is hopefully the ONLY time in your life that diabetes will affect a moment in yours. I did my best to give you the proper place to grow for the past 9 months, but the doctor thinks it's best for you and me if you came out now. Don't be scared. They are the very best and they will keep an eye on you and me the whole time. Then I'll get to hold you just as I have been this whole time, only this time it will be with my hands rather than my belly.

One thing I want you to know more than anything is that you are so SO wanted! What started out as a silent prayer said at Cocoa Beach, Florida turned into your heartbeat a few days later. You are so strong! From your fast heartbeat at every appointment to the kicks and jabs you give me, you've proven to me and your dad that you like to make your presence known. I can't wait to get to know you! Your dad is in love with you already, and he is so excited to meet you. Lean on him for love and encouragement, he will freely give it. We will do our best to teach you about your Heavenly Father who loves you more than we do, if you can believe that!

I'm so anxious to meet you, and I can't wait to hold you. I love you so much!

Love,
Your Mommy

Friday, May 18, 2012

38 Weeks: Ready or Not, Here She Comes

This week has been a real busy week in preparing for our daughter's arrival.  I had so much anxiety about my OB appointment on Wednesday because I was worried about her size and being induced earlier than I wanted.  This appointment would also be my last regular appointment before the 39 week goal that my doctor set for me.  I wanted to end things on a good note and go into my induction with hope and optimism.  I also had my last endocrinology appointment on Thursday, so I was rounding things out in my last week as a diabetic pregnant woman.  

My OB appointment started out with an ultrasound again to check on baby's size and fluid levels.  Last week, she was measuring around 8 lbs 10 oz, and my doctor was worried about her getting over 9 lbs and being too big for me to push out.  Thankfully, it seems my daughter has ceased growing and is just chilling out in there because she came back at 8 lbs 11 oz this week.  My fluid levels were still good, too.  My doctor still seemed puzzled by the fact that I was carrying a large baby when my diabetic control has been as good as it's been.  I explained to him that Trey and I were both 9 lb babies when we were born.  And it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he exclaimed, "Oh, well that explains it!  You just breed big, healthy babies.  That's all!"  So it turns out that I'm a "big breeder", nothing more.  But it does give me more pressure to keep stellar control for other pregnancies since my kids will more than likely land on the larger side anyway.  

My blood pressure came back fine.  Not great, but it wasn't higher than last week, so my doc didn't seem worried about it.  Next was my first internal exam.  I have to admit that I was really worried about this.  I had read horror stories about how painful they were and they could accidentally strip your membranes and put you in early labor!  Well, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought, just went to a happy place and counted the tiles on the ceiling.  Right now I'm 1 cm dialated and 50% thinned out, which my doctor said is very optimistic before being induced.  Looks like my dedication to walk 2 miles everyday in these last few weeks might have paid off.  

The plan is if I haven't gone into labor on my own by Monday at 10 PM (which I highly doubt), I am to go to the maternity center and check in to start the induction process.  They'll start with something called cytotec that will thin out my cervix even more overnight.  The nurse told me that sometimes it is enough to send some moms into spontaneous labor.  Then we'll start an IV of pitocin, the drug that kick starts labor, early Tuesday morning.  After 3 PM on Monday, I can only have clear liquids (water, sports drinks, jello, chicken broth, etc.) because the drugs can cause some nausea.  

Yesterday, I had my final endocrinology appointment before having my daughter.  The nurse checked all my vitals while my A1c was spinning.  I asked for a refill on all my prescriptions, just in case I might be close to running out and I wasn't coming back to the office for 4 months.  I have been spoiled a little bit by coming in once a month, I don't worry about checking my prescriptions before I come in for an appointment.  My A1c came back at 5.3%, which makes my overall pregnancy range 5.1 to 5.6.  I was quite proud of myself at this fact and feel confident that I did the best I could, diabetes wise, to give my daughter the safest place to grow.  My endocrinologist and I discussed the plan for me during labor.  I'll keep my pump on until they start the pitocin, and I'll keep it off until she is born.  "And I can put it on right after, right?"  I'm not a big fan of IVs, so I have this image of immediately ripping them out (a la the Hulk) right after I hear her first cry.  They will check my blood sugar once every hour while the IV is in, but of course I can check at my leisure as well as having my CGM.  Then I can reconnect the pump using my pre-pregnancy basal rates and bolus ratios, because once she's out and the placenta is delivered my insulin needs will dramatically decrease.  

So everything is set in place.  My daughter will be here by this time next week.  I got a little emotional leaving my OB's office after scheduling the induction.  I wasn't scared or anxious, just overall emotional from the culmination of "This is it!  She's coming!"  This weekend, we're busy doing last minute things and preparing for incoming family.  We're also planning a last date night that involves a movie trip (Battleship) and a trip to Babies-R-Us to pick up last minute things.  I've also been busy putting things in the hospital bag, most of it we may not need.  The car seat is in the car, along with the essential Boppy.  

I'm excited to meet her, but I'm more scared and anxious right now.  I'm mentally putting on my game face and getting ready for what the labor process will be like (and how long it will take).  I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to handle it.  But at the same time I have no idea what to expect, so I'm hoping I surprise myself.  I just keep imagining that moment when the doctor says "She's almost here!" and I hear her first cry and we get to hold her, finally.  That moment is my trophy that I'm running towards. 

Thursday, May 10, 2012

37 Weeks: Not Yet

I'm there!  I'm officially considered full term, which means that my little girl could choose to make her arrival any day now.  However, I'm not holding my breath because most of the women in my family tend to go over their due date.  But it means that I've reached a huge hurdle as a high-risk type 1 diabetic by making it to full term.  Every week from here on out is a victory lap.  

I had my official 37-week appointment yesterday, too.  I was really excited about the first part of my appointment because it began with an ultrasound to see how my girl is doing.  Her heartrate was steadily beating along in the 130s--slower than what she has been so it means she is running out of room to do her aerobics.  Her fluid levels and placenta were still great, so there's no worry about placenta abruption, something that's usually a concern with diabetic pregnancies.  She is also head down and face in, the perfectly engaged position for a normal labor.  I'm happy about that, but part of me is still wishing that whole stork idea will pan out.  

However, her size was something took us all by surprise.  She is perfectly proportioned but measuring about 2 weeks ahead and weighing an estimated 8 lbs 10 oz.  I was a little shocked by that number, and so was my doctor.  He told us that if she got to 9 lbs or more that he would offer us the option for an induction.  At closer to 10 lbs, he would recommend an induction (and I would probably agree).  Trey and I were both 9 lb babies when we were born, so I'm not exactly expecting a peanut-sized baby.  But I don't want her to get too big, especially if it's my fault.  My doctor was quick to mention the correlation between diabetes and big babies, but I'm skeptical to think that's 100% the cause.  I'm also aware that ultrasounds can be off in measurements the further along the baby gets. 

After my ultrasound, I had my standard appointment stuff:  urine sample, weight, and blood pressure.  My sample and weight came back fine, but my blood pressure was elevated at 140/90.  For the past month or so, I've had readings come back in the 120s/70s.  Since my urine sample came back with nothing in it, no one was concerned.  But my doctor said if it was still elevated at my next appointment in a week that we would look at inducing earlier than 39 weeks.  I also found out that I am Strep B positive, so I have to be put on antibiotics before I'm induced or as soon as I go into labor.  These were the less than positive things that happened at my appointment.  

I made my appointment for exactly a week later when I'll be 38 weeks.  I really don't want to have to make the decision to induce next week if her size comes back close to 9 lbs.  I worry that my body isn't ready to go into labor, and I don't want to force my body to do something it's not ready to do.  I'm hoping my rogue blood pressure spike will settle itself enough to not force my doctor to send me to the maternity center right away.  Our goal has always been to get to 39 weeks, so I would only be 1 week away from that goal and my baby girl is perfectly healthy enough to handle labor.  But I want to finish this thing on a positive note and not feel like my body is giving out at the last lap.  

Frankly, I'm just not ready.  I know plenty of people have babies before their due date and they come out just fine.  But I want to give my girl as much time as she wants before she makes her arrival.  I know that might sound weird for a 37-week pregnant woman to say, but I'm not screaming, "Just get her out of me!"  I'm uncomfortable, sure, but I want to do what's best for her.  I keep telling myself, "Just one more week. Just one more week."  This whole journey for me has been done with that mentality, so I just need to get to next week and say it again. 

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Deciding to Bank

There are a lot of big decisions that need to be made before having a baby.  "What kind of travel system should we get?  What color should we paint the nursery?  What prenatal classes should we take?  What hospital should we go to?"  Just to name a few.  And when you get towards the end of the pregnancy, you start thinking about planning for the child's future.  This could involve opening a 529 savings account for her education or putting aside money for her future wedding (kids, especially girls, are expensive!).  

One of the things we've also decided to do for our daughter's arrival is plan for her medical future.  In short, we've decided to bank the cord blood following her birth.  If you don't know much about cord blood banking, the basic premise is that the cells in the umbilical cord are a form of the child's own stem cells.  The blood is stored and cryogenially frozen in a fancy scientific facility.  These stem cells can be used to treat a plethora of diseases from various forms of cancer, blood disorders, and immune deficiencies.  (Can you guess where this is going?)  In addition to treating diseases, there's a lot of research being done with stem cells from cord blood.  And there's a lot of research being done on using stem cells to regenerate the pancreas for someone with type 1 diabetes.  (I tried to find a web reference for this last sentence, but I don't want to bias someone's opinion based on one source.  So google "cord blood banking type 1 diabetes" if you want to do your own research.)  

Banking the cord blood is something that I had thought about before but didn't seriously consider until we met a representative for a local cord blood banking company at our prenatal class.  We asked a lot of questions like "Can we use the cord blood for other children if we decide to only do it once?  What security measures are taken to insure the quality of the cord blood over time?  How much?$?$?"  Banking the cord blood is not an inexpensive endeavor, but considering the amount of diseases that can be easily treated with it, we believe it is worth it.   And if the research continues to progress in treating type 1 diabetes and, Heaven forbid, our daughter gets it, I like knowing that we have some sort of plan for attempting to keep it at bay in the long-term.  

This was an extremely personal decision for us as parents, much like a lot of things when it comes to being parents (breastfeeding vs. formula, where they go to school, crunchy vs. creamy peanut butter--this is a source of conflict in our house because I favor creamy and Trey likes . . . the wrong kind, etc.).  So I'm not saying that every parent should bank their child's cord blood.  And I'm not saying every parent that has type 1 diabetes should bank their child's cord blood, either!  Some people can't justify the cost and annual fee or don't believe that the research is far enough along to invest in its promise.  We went through all these discussions as we were deciding to go through with this.  In the end, we felt that this is a one-time action that we could potentially use to save our daughter from a significant amount of diseases.  If 10 years from now she developed some cord-blood treated blood disorder, we would regret not doing this now. 

My only suggestion if you want to consider cord blood banking for your child in the future is to do your research, find a reputable company and machine gun them with questions, and go with your gut feeling.  I feel at peace with our decision.  And I feel very giddy that I got to talk about something scientific on my blog for the first time!  =)
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DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor, nurse, certified diabetes educator (CDE) or any medical professional of any kind. (But I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express!) Therefore, please do not use any of my postings as medical fact. I am simply a blogger expressing my highs and lows (pun intended) with diabetes. For changes in your medication, exercise regiment, or diet please consult a qualified physician.

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My name is Holly and I live in north Alabama with my hubby, two cats, and a dog.