Pregnancy in Diabetes

I win! I win! I win!

Back in the day, I used to be real good at winning things: an ugly bike helmet, a jar full of vintage buttons, concert tickets, a year’s supply of natural energy drinks – you name it, I could win it. But as the years progressed, my winning streak fizzled. Until yesterday. When I got up yesterday morning and checked my email, there was a notification of a link to my blog from another. I clicked on the link to see what it was all about, and was brought over to Sara’s blog at Moments of Wonderful, which had posted a list of the Best ‘Betes Blogs of the last month. And guess who was number 2 on the list? Me! For Best Vlog!!! I WIN! I WIN! I WIN! For those of you who didn’t check it out when I first posted it, here’s a refresher. It’s just two minutes […]

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Shades of a belly button

To all the teenage girls out there who are absolutely positive a belly-button piercing will elevate their level of hotness, this is my PSA to you: if you have no qualms with developing a majorly deformed belly button later on in life go for it, but if that doesn’t appeal to you, I’d advise you to think two times, three times, 5,000 times before taking that leap! Take it from me girlies, the future is not so kind to those with punctured holes in their bellies! I got my belly button pierced twice in the mid ’90s. The first time, I fought with my moms tooth and nail to get it done. She was adamant in her refusal to sign the permission, so I went behind her back and got my sister to pretend to be my moms on the phone. But after just one year, that piercing grew out

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32 weeks: Non-stress my butt!

These are my Thursday tidbits: 1. If you haven’t already voted for Big Ring and I in the Bikestyle Tours bike room contest, please do. It’s for a good cause; Big Ring has a never-ending need for new cycling gear and a desire for new cycling shades. And seriously, how can you not vote for this totally awesome getup that Big Ring had designed. (For the back story on this photo, click the link: Le Tour de Loft) Just 3 days left for voting! To vote for Big Ring, click: VOTE FOR BIG RING! For Princess: VOTE FOR PRINCESS! 2. This week, because of Dear Diabetes, I had to start going in for non-stress tests to check on the baby’s heart rate and movement; something I’ll have to do twice a week until baby is born. And it turns out my little thumb-sucker is a tad on the stubborn side.

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‘HOLY COW… there’s a baby in there’

My goodness my “little” five-pounder is turning heads these days! Even the shadows are talking. I had an ultrasound done yesterday to measure the size of thumb-sucking alien baby and pretty much the whole time the perinatologist kept saying “Yep, that’s a big one.” She did multiple measurements seemingly to will TSAB to a smaller size (they use an equation that measures the circumference of the head, the cut of mama’s belly and something else to figure out the size) but finally had to concede that I’ve got a five-pounder in my belly, which falls in the 93rd percentile of huge! (Really hoping that large head equates to a super-large, super-smart brain ;)) But given the numerous exclamations and proclamations regarding the size of my belly these days, you’d think I was carrying a 20-pounder in there! Now, there have been some amazing people (friends, acquaintances, and even a few strangers)

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‘She’s got the Jimmy legs!’

Dear Pregnancy Guru, I tried to follow your advice, I tried to embrace the power of positive thinking, I tried to feel your words whilst repeating them over and over again: “I feel great and pregnancy is easy on my body. I feel great and pregnancy is easy on my body. I feel great and pregnancy is easy on my body…” But it didn’t work! My body has been taken over by a little thumb-sucking alien baby and quite frankly it’s not enjoying the experience. Reason number 412 as to why I will never get pregnant again: Jimmy Legs! For the past four days, I have been subjected to an excruciatingly persistent dull ache in both my legs, mostly in my calves, and mostly when I’m in a seated position – which given all the commuting I do, is 90 per cent of my day. Sometimes, however, usually in the

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