16 Week Goodies

There has been a lot going on this week pregnancy-wise, even though I didn't have an appointment this week (shocking!). I'm starting to feel like I should get paid for going to the doctor, because I'm there enough for at least some part-time pay. Maybe if I learn to do some filing I can save on some of the copays?

First of all, I've really started to pop this week. All of my pre-pregnancy pants cease to button anymore, and I bought my first pair of maternity jeans last weekend (which I L-O-V-E!!!). I'm starting to walk around with my pants unbuttoned with a shirt over the zipper, hoping that no one will point out that my fly is constantly down. I'm kind of glad that I'm finally start to feel pregnant on the outside, instead of from the inside out. Speaking of morning sickness, my pukies have definitely subsided in the past week. But I still have the occasional morning upchuck, which I've come to accept as part of my routine. 

 

My 16-week pot belly.

Also, insulin resistance has started to rear its ugly head. It started out sporadically, so I wasn't sure if it was the real thing or not. But after 2 days with lunch post-prandials in the 200s for a couple hours, I knew something wasn't right. And after a post dinner high of 180 mg/dL that stayed with me for 5 hours, I decided to make some changes. I've upped my insulin:carb ratio from 1:10 to 1:8 and increased my daytime basals by 0.1 units. I don't go back to my endocrinologist until after the New Year, but I can't wait on his guidance to wrangle in these numbers. My changes seem to be working so far, but the lows still plague me. But I'd rather they plague me than any stubborn high.

And finally, I'm getting kicked! I felt what I thought was the first kick last week while Trey and I were out to dinner. However, it didn't really feel like a kick, but more like Ferbie was doing flips inside me. Like when you dive into a pool and do a flip in the middle of the water. They like to do it a lot in the mornings, right after I get to work. For a good 30 minutes or so, I can feel them their doing gymnastics's routine. They also like to do it when Trey gets home from work. It's like they hear his voice and go crazy in there! I know it will be awhile before I feel them on the outside, but I'm loving these little flips.

I don't have any more appointments until after Christmas, so hopefully Ferbie and I can endure the holiday festivities without totally succumbing to the insulin resistance nightmare. In the meantime, I'll be here--getting kicked.

Grateful to Celebrate

Yesterday was my 5th anniversary of being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  Given that fact, I probably didn't "celebrate" in the way I should have.  I didn't have anything truly "bolus worthy" like a cupcake, nor did I really make a big deal out of it other than a Twitter update.  In fact, yesterday was more reflective than anything, surrounded by my normal Sunday activities--church, laundry, and some light Christmas shopping. 

Thinking back to that day, more than anything I'm extremely grateful.  I'm grateful that I made it through diabetic ketoacidosis and surviving a blood sugar above 1400 mg/dL.  I'm grateful that I've avoided any complications to date, even if my diabetes is still young--I will continue to celebrate that fact as long as it's true.  I'm grateful that I've managed this disease on my own from the very beginning with an average A1c of 6.5%.  I'm grateful that I haven't let this disease define who I am, and never will. 

Diabetes is hard and diabetes sucks, big time!  I've certainly had my breakdown moments, like when I threw my CGM across the room when I was over 400 mg/dL (thank you, bad insulin).  And I don't want to count the number of times I've gone to bed crying into my husband's arms because of a stupid number.  These moments happen and will happen again, and I've learned that they need to happen because it's my nature to be emotional and let things blow once in awhile.  I can't be ashamed of my tears, because they remind me that I need to rely on God. 

I hope to be here another 50 years with this disease.  Maybe there will be a cure, maybe not.  Personally, I'm not holding my breath.  Right now, I just want to celebrate the fact that I AM HERE, when I shouldn't be.  So many things in this life don't matter.  But those that do matter, I want to celebrate.  I want to celebrate my family who poured over me in love in those first few weeks after my diagnosis.  I want to celebrate my wonderful husband whose arms are the safest place in the world.  I want to celebrate my friends and everyone in the DOC. 

I want to celebrate simply because I can, and that's something worth celebrating. 

Fifteen Weeks

Yesterday, I had my 15-week checkup with my OB.  Even though my appointment was scheduled for 10:45 AM, I didn't get called back until 12 PM.  My measly snack of a pear was long gone, so it was a good thing that this appointment was very short.  

After waiting for what seemed like forever, the nurse finally calls my name.  She instructed to go to the designated "Pee Room" and give a sample, standard procedure these days.  Then she took my blood pressure, which was significantly better than what it was last time but still above normal.  I've noticed that my blood pressure is always lower if I can manage to get some exercise in the day before.  I know I need to make it more of habit, especially later in my pregnancy.  Finally, she took my weight, which has yet to move +/- 2 lbs from my pre-pregnancy weight. 

Next, I make it to the room where Trey was waiting on me.  Another nurse came in and said she was going to use a doppler to find the baby's heartbeat.  For those that don't know, a doppler is like this wand thing connected to a huge iPod looking thing, and they put the wand on your belly to find the baby and listen to its heartbeat.  She asked how far along I was and when I said 15 weeks, she said, "Ok, so they'll still be pretty low.  I'll need you to unbutton your pants and lie down."  I lie down and expose my belly for her, and she waved the wand thing over my belly, bellow my belly button, from the right to the left.  A few seconds pass and then I hear "Whump-whump-whump."  I immediately smile and the nurse said, "Oh yeah, there it is.  156--that's very good."  I always like getting that confirmation that there's still a baby inside me and they're doing well; it's easy to not feel pregnant all the time especially when I have no proof of it yet (i.e. no baby bump).  

A few minutes later, my doctor comes in and he looks as ravished as I was.  I know doctor's have long days, too, so I was understanding.  He asked me how I was feeling with fatigue and nausea, and I brought up the fact that I have been having some heartburn.  I know heartburn is not uncommon during pregnancy, but I've had a history of chronic heartburn since I was 19.  I've been taking an antacid daily for the past 8 years, even before I was diagnosed with D.  He seemed a bit concerned that I was having heartburn above the capacity of my antacid, but I always feel better once I take my pill at night.  Everyone is happy with that solution for now.  

I also brought up my lack of weight gain, and he told me he was absolutely fine with it.  He said he normally doesn't see a lot of weight gain in his patients with preexisting diabetes.  He did suggest that I go ahead and try to add 300 calories to my daily intake (1% milk, here I come!).  Next he instructed me to lie down so he could measure my belly (I swear, everyone wants me to expose myself in this office.  Next time I'm coming with no pants just to make things easier).  He took out a tape measure and measured from my pubic bone to the top of my belly button.  He seemed very pleased with the number (17 cm) because he finally smiled and said "That's great!"  

I scheduled my next ultrasound for 3 weeks from now, where we'll get to find out what this baby actually is.  That will be a nice post-Christmas present!  Then Trey and I went and grabbed some burritos that we ate in about 5 seconds. 

Cry Me a River

I've always been a pretty emotional gal.  It doesn't take a lot for me to shed a few tears, especially when I'm stressed out.  So when I got pregnant, the gamut of my emotions hit a whole new level thanks to all the lovely hormones.  Here is a list of things just in the last month that have left me shedding enough tears to fill a trough: 

• My vacuum broke.  I've had this thing for over 5 years (hey, it's a Hoover) and it's served me well between my apartment and the two houses I've lived in since being married.  But recently it refuses to pick up anything.  I will spend 45 minutes vacuuming the whole house, only to still find a layer of dog hair on the top of the carpet.  I broke down and swore to make all our pets outdoor inhabitants for the rest of their days. 
• I literally have not had time to go grocery shopping.  I don't know what it is about this time of year, but we have something going on every weekend for the rest of 2011.  So I spend my week nights catching up on laundry and taking care of the animals that by the time I think about heading to the store it's already 8 PM.  Plus the fact that it gets dark immediately after lunch, I just want to go home and hide.  
• Any blood sugar over 250 mg/dL.  While my A1c is the lowest it's ever been since birth, it certainly hasn't been without some scary highs that seem to be magnified with being pregnant.  I usually get frustrated after the number doesn't come down after 5 minutes and I put my basal on 200% and stare my Dexcom into falling.

• Feeling the baby "bubbles".  That's right, I'm 15 weeks along, but I'm pretty sure I felt little Ferbie doing flip flops in there yesterday.  I tried to hold my reaction to a smile, but I ultimately started crying.  It seems even happy things lead to tears.  My make-up has no hope of staying on all day.  
• Christmas songs.  I can't handle it!  I freaking tear up anytime I hear "The First Noel" or "All I Want for Christmas is You".  This whole magical season has turned me into a sentimental basketcase.  Thank God I haven't heard "Christmas Shoes" yet or I'm sure I'll just melt into a puddle. 

I know these swinging emotions are just part of the process and ultimately a temporary thing for this little person inside of me.  I just hope he or she is used to having a momma with some wet cheeks, because I think it's only going to get worse when they get here.   The crib bedding we decided on arrived in the mail yesterday, and I'm keeping this thing in the plastic for now to save it from my tears. 

Happy Birfday to ME!

So today is my birthday, and I had an endocrinologist appointment this morning. I didn't exactly want to go to the doctor on my birthday, but my endo's office has very little wiggle room in their schedule. So I went with the hopes that my 8:30 AM appointment wouldn't ruin my first day on my 27th year here on Earth.

The one happy thing I got for waking up that early: SNOW!!! I don't know if we've ever gotten snow this early in Alabama, but it was a beautiful site to wake up to this morning.


I got ready and headed out the door with my thermos full of decaf coffee and freshly place antlers and red nose on my SUV (What?! It's Christmas season, right?). I knew today was definitely my birthday because I got a parking spot on the lobby level of the parking deck, which means I didn't have to travel the four levels, uphill on wet pavement to find a spot.


I signed in and took my spot in the very empty waiting room. Apparently, some patients canceled their morning appointments due to the snow. They called me back right at my appointment time and took my weight. So far, I've only gained 2 pounds since I found out I was pregnant, and I'm 14 weeks along. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. I mean, I fear the overall weight gain and trying to lose it when the baby is here, but I want to make sure the baby is well-fed while he/she is being baked. My nurse assured me it will go up and I'll certainly be miserable about it by the end of my pregnancy.


Next came the blood pressure check, which I have come to absolutely dread. I've had "above normal" readings for almost a year now that I just come to expect it and justify it with white coat syndrome and move on. But to my surprise, my reading was . . . normal, on the low side: 108/72. "That's good," I said as the nurse put the sleeve back in its holster. Either I'm starting to master white coat syndrome or the lack of caffeine is having a positive effect on my blood pressure.


She started spinning my A1c while downloading the readings from my new pump. We made small talk about Black Friday and baby stuff while I watched the timer go down on the machine. Finally, the machine finished and I got my A1c:

I'm proud of this number, but I'll admit that most of that number has been from lows. I've been tolerating them for the sake of baby, but I don't know how normal diabetics (ha! that made me laugh) tolerate this number all the time. I can't wait until I can get back to the 6s without guilt. My endo agreed that I was having too many lows, even in the short number of readings from my new pump. So we increased my basal rates for now, but we're expecting it to go back up in the next few weeks when insulin resistance hits.

So to recap: snow, killer parking space, stellar BP and A1c reading. All of this before the snow melted. I think 27's gonna be a great year.

Blogging over at Diabetes Sisters

I am excited to announce that for the next 6 months, I'll be guest blogging at Diabetes Sisters as their pregnancy blogger.  You can check me out over there for a weekly update.  I'll still be blogging about my pregnancy here, and will include most if not all the same information for each post.  But my posts here will continue to have that "Holly flair".  

My first post is up, so check it out and let me know what you think!  

Twelve Weeks

Yesterday, I had my 12 week appointment with my OB.  I'm beginning to think I need to check out some apartments behind the doctor's building, seeing as how I will be living there soon.  We kicked things off by taking a look at our baby on the ultrasound.  He or she was doing great in there!  Their heart was fluttering away at 154 bpm, and they are measuring a little ahead for the size of a normal 12 week baby, which means they are probably taking after their 6'3" daddy.  Their size is strictly related to its length, not girth.  And has nothing to do with diabetes.  ;-) 

Next, I had to get my blood pressure taken and give samples (urine and blood) for testing for protein and baby-related stuff.  My blood pressure was a little high (not officially high, but just higher than normal), but I attribute that to white coat syndrome and the fact that they took FOUR (count 'em, 1-2-3-4) vials of blood from me.  Even though I'm diabetic, I hate LOATHE having blood drawn.  I don't know what it is, but the whole feeling of having a needle sticking in my vein makes my skin crawl.  I just sit there, my head turned and my eyes closed and try not to think about the needle getting loose and my blood spraying all over the nurse and the walls.  By the time the nurse was done, my whole body was shaking from the experience and the sight of 4 vials on the table.  

The final thing was the state-mandated vaginal swab for chlamydia and gonorrhea.  I understand it's something that they have to do, but there's something funny about having my husband sitting in the chair next to me and getting tested for STDs.  I think I was getting a little drained (literally) from the appointment, because while we were waiting on the doctor to come in, I started getting low.  I wonder how many other patients have sat on the same table, pants-less with a paper skirt, while chewing on tropical fruit glucose tablets.  Probably not very many. 

The doctor came in and we discussed my good ultrasound and my BP reading.  I explained that whenever I test my BP on my own that it's never that high and that it must be a doctor thing because I always get nervous at my appointments, to which my doctor said, "Yeah, stupid doctors."  He said he's not concerned about it at this point, but he would keep an eye on it for sure.  He was more elated with my last A1c (5.5%) and said that was the best thing I can do for a good pregnancy.  He said I was his healthiest diabetic pregnant patient in his office--I guess that's an award to be happy about.  We briefly discussed me getting to keep my pump on during labor, even thought that's a lifetime away at this point.  But he said he's more comfortable with my pump than an insulin drip.  +1 for the good doctor. 

I received a goodie bag with all the information about the maternity centers at each hospital and several baby magazines.  It was like a "Welcome to the 2nd Trimester" club package.  We scheduled my next appointment for 2 weeks before Christmas (holy cow, where has this year gone?!)  and I went to refill my blood supply with a steak burrito.  

Now that I'm about to enter the 2nd trimester, that means my expansion is coming on quick.  My pants are getting tighter and trying to button them requires some effort.  I feel like I'm walking around with a bloated, post-Thanksgiving dinner belly.  My engineering husband has taken on the project of measuring the outward growth of my belly on the baby's unpainted bedroom wall.  I've grown a half inch in one month, which surprised me for some reason.  The growth of my belly is a lot more progressive than I thought.  I'll find myself rubbing my belly at random times, which I'm sure is puzzling to strangers in the grocery store. 

Yeah, don't make fun of the pants.  They have pockets, hence their functionality. 

Besides the vampire nurses and feeling like a glorified lab rat, I feel absolutely blessed right now!  This is my favorite time of year with the holidays right around the corner and enjoying the food, family, and friendships.  And the other day I got a little teary eyed about doing it all next year with a baby on my hip.  And the fact that we'll have to buy another stocking to go on the chimney.    

I'd thought I'd end this post will a little photo of Ferbie.  Right now it looks like a little alien, teddy graham baby, but they look cute to me! 

"Hello there, DOC!"