Let me apologize ahead of time for the lack of proper grammar and punctuation and possible clear thoughts that will be this blog post.
It’s 11:30 at night, I’m sitting here a good hour and half past my normal bedtime, waiting for my husband to come home from being underway. And thinking about today and my realization over my complete loss of control. Today was my first day post diabetic screening appointment with my Maternity and Fetal Specialist, which consisted of lots of finger pricks and far too much over processing of what to eat and when to eat it.
Things started out good. My numbers were right where she told me she wanted them to be for the first 3 pokes. Then that damn fourth and final test came back too high. (I’m not going to state numbers here, because I am NOT a Dr. nor do I pretend to be one, and I don’t want to give out any possible conflicting information) Then I felt horrible, so I decided to test again, and my numbers had skyrocketed. Just what I was hoping would NOT happen. I did everything exactly the way I should, I ate per the guidelines in my little handout to a T, but still, my body has failed me. And failed my little guy.
Then I realized that the little man in question hadn’t moved since around 5 PM, so I called up my OB to let her know what was going on. Of course, she wants me to go in for a fetal monitoring.
I can’t. Why? My husband is gone. No I don’t know anyone here who can take me. I don’t have anyone to watch my kids. Remember, I don’t drive… yup the heart thing. Sure I can rest now, my kids are in bed. Sure I’ll drink plenty of water. I’ll call you back.
That’s basically how it went down. And about 46 minutes into my hour of “resting” he gives me a light roll. One, two, takes a 5 minute or so break, four, five… okay he’s moving now. So I call back my OB and let her know he’s moving now that I’m relaxing.
And then it hits me. I know that he’s just as miserable inside of me as I am feeling now. He doesn’t want to move around just the same as I just want to fall asleep and wake up tomorrow. And it makes me feel completely out of control. It reminds me of the feeling I had when my first OB told me years ago with my oldest that babies cry in utero. What? That’s horrible! I can’t do anything about this!
I’m a Mom, I’m the one who has all the answers all day long. I’m the one who fixes everything, all-day-long. But I can’t do anything about gestational diabetes, not if following the diet doesn’t help. And yes, I went into this knowing that I got a trial run to see if I could get away with just the diet plan, and not have to take medication. I was made fully aware that it all depends on my levels, but I’m still disappointed.
33 weeks and I’m starting to feel like time is standing still. This whole pregnancy has completely flown by. Made possible by my two crazy little monkey-men and businesses that keep me busy. And now I’m counting down the hours, to the end of the day, to the end of week as the weeks of my gestation add up.
Just let me get to the point where he is completely safe. All I want is a happy, healthy little man to add to our rambunctious little family.