So my official diagnosis came through for Gestational Diabetes.
I now add an OB to my stable of healthcare providers.
Tuesday I have to attend a 2-hour clinic at the hospital for preggos with GD. (Apparently there are so many of us that having individual appointments isn’t reasonably feasible.) That’s a comfort, in a way. I’m not in this alone.
And, as much as it sucks to have this come up at the end of a “perfect” pregnancy, I’m really rather glad I decided to get tested. My uterus is growing perfectly on schedule and my weight is fine. I had no other symptoms then my blood sugar levels were crazy. It is entirely possible that come D-day, I could have a twelve pound Spawn on my hands.
I’m already following the diabetes standard of eating. It’s really rather familiar to me. Low-carb, high protein was a mantra of mine for at least ten years. It’s part of the reason my meet with my new OB didn’t go so great. She had this assumption that because I’m not “thin” I don’t know how to eat thin. I thought about getting into my history, but I just was too annoyed to bother. I really wasn’t very nice…not that I was an asshat or anything, just not my usual positive self. I actually was thinking today of writing her a little apology letter. Afterall, things might get bad enough that she ends up being the person who delivers me and I’d rather her not think of me as her “problem” patient.
Oh. That’s the other thing. When M1 told me I’d been officially diagnosed, I had a mini-breakdown. I interrupted her to ask what would have to happen for me to lose them. M1 explained that, while my primary care will transfer to my OB if I have to go on insulin, I’ll still have my midwives present at my birth.
I was so relieved I started crying. And not normal crying either. After the initial relief, it just kept going. It was like my eyes sprung a leak. It really had little to do with the rest of me. Almost like a nosebleed. Very unsettling.
So for now, I’ll continue seeing my midwives on our regular schedule. I’ll fold in extra appointments with the OB. (Shall I just call her OB-R for now? Yeah, let’s do that.) I may have to see a diabetes specialist as well. A lot depends on how well my sugar levels stabilized with diet.
I will say that being on a diet that so closely resembles how I kept myself in “acting weight” for so many years doesn’t sit super comfortably. I’m not a big sugar eater to begin with, but I do love breads and pastas. When I don’t eat them, I tend to drop weight very quickly. Now just doesn’t seem like the time for that.
While I realize that there are probably a lot of preggos out there that would love to stop expanding, I’ve been really quite content with the belly. I don’t feel fat. I feel like I’m nearly finished with growing a person. It’s certainly helped along by the positive reactions of MFH and our friends, but at the heart of it all is just how I feel about myself. I am really super happy with my body. It’s looking after me and Spawn. It’s taken us to this point without issues.
Now I just want to show it the same courtesy. I keep reminding myself that I’m eating the way I am now to keep Spawn from getting too much blood sugar, not because I’m trying to drop weight for a part or event. It’s amazing the mental scars that hang around even after you’re over the heartache they initially caused.
I’ll update as things progress.
In other news, MFH and I attended our first prenatal class at our midwifery clinic. We were there with seven other couples who are all patients there as well, and one of the girls I’d already met through my various preggo meetups. Most of the information seemed very familiar to me after all of my reading/research. Still, hearing personal experiences always helps, and I like both midwives teaching the classes.
It also came up in class that a lot of the moms-to-be felt fairly prepared, but they wanted their dads-to-be to feel as covered. MFH agreed that the first part (on pregnancy) held little in the way of news, because I try to explain things as I experience them. The second part (on labor) was more helpful to him. Even just the logistics of how to know when to go to the hospital (my midwife will likely be with me/us at the house when we make that decision) had not occurred to him.
He also brought up the point that I feel really super strongly about and have mentioned on here before. It is important to talk to people going through the exact same things at basically the same time as we are. All the couples are first-timers, and the husbands got the opportunity to realize that their anxieties were completely normal…because six other dudes felt the same way about things. Of course it helps to talk to anyone who has experience with having a child, but it’s not quite the same thing talking to a veteran on the other side as it is to trade stories with people who are with you in the trenches.
Which brings me to another sort of interesting topic…
Everyone (with the exception of one husband) in our prenatal class is white. All of us are gainfully employed and appear to be middle to upper-middle class. MFH and I might be the only ones not living in an actual house. When I think of people who are interested in midwifery, I generally think of a more cultural mix of people.
On the other side of that was the waiting room of OB-R’s. I was the only person without a child. I was the only woman wearing pants, and one of the few not wearing a burqa, niqāb, or ḥijāb. There was one other woman there who was unaccompanied by a man. All together with patients, kids, and husbands/accompanying men, there were about twenty people in the waiting room at any time. It was such a contrast to my midwifery, where it’s rare just to have someone in the waiting room, let alone have a ton of people waiting.
I’ve mentioned already that I was courteous, if not my normal sunny self to OB-R. Our appointment was very short. Having said that, she did ask me several times if I had any questions and I certainly didn’t feel rushed. Still, I could not wait to get away from her/there. I do hope we come to a better understanding in the near future, but that will be as much on me as it is her. (If not more.)
Besides the preggo stuff, I had my work Christmas party last night. MFH finally got to meet the people I jabber about all the time, and I was happy to show him off to all my coworkers. I was unaware that they awarded bonuses at this event, so was extremely surprised to be called up to great acclaim to receive one. (Super glad MFH and I didn’t cut out early as planned.) The whole night was rather pleasant.
I’ve got to say, though, I’m very much looking forward to this weekend. MFH and I have zero plans, and that’s the first time in ages for the both of us. I think the time together, bumming around with Piper will be great for the lot of us.
I may ruin things a bit, though, by working on refinishing my Deacon’s Bench. It’s the last piece of furniture we’d planned on using in Spawn’s room, and it needs a little TLC before it’s ready to hang out with the rest of the nursery. (The thing has been around since my birth. It’s hung on rather well and I don’t blame it for having a few bumps and bruises.)
One way or another, it will be nice to spend time together as a family. Christmas and New Year’s is around the corner, and Spawn is going to make a grand appearance soon after that. A bit of quiet time now seems to be exactly what the doctor (midwifes/ob) ordered.