pregnancy in diabetes

26 weeks: Channeling Aretha

R-E-S-P-E-C-T! That’s the song I felt like belting out as I soared out of the diabetes in pregnancy clinic earlier this week all afloat with good momma-to-be vibes swooping through me. When I walked into the clinic Tuesday morning, I was prepared to give them hell if they gave me any trouble – any trouble! – with my weight gain or BG control. I’d been practicing in my car all week with strong one-sided conversations with that nasty dietitian I saw last, and I was determined not to let her break my shell again. But the practice was all for not. This week I saw a new dietitian, and my favourite endocrinologist of the clinic was back from her European holidays. The past couple appointments I’ve felt dread walking through these doors, but not anymore! So what happened? Well, let’s start with the weight gain: It seems I’m down a smidge from […]

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Never Eat Soggy Weiners my butt

I knew something wasn’t right, could feel it in my bones, my legs, my feet. But I kept going … and going … and going. I had directions, Big Ring directions, which for most people probably border on the obsessive with the amount of detail in them, but for me are a necessity. You see, I get lost. A lot. It doesn’t matter how often I have walked, ran, cycled or driven an area, I will inevitably get turned around re-seeking that area. I get lost in the town I grew up in,  the town I currently live in, heck, I even get lost trying to find my way home again. Directions have absolutely no meaning to me, I don’t trust GPS’, I can’t read maps, and seriously, what the heck is up with that Never Eat Soggy Weiners compass cross that you learned about in Grade 3 – it doesn’t

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She-Diabetic: Hear me roar

Oh man, I walked into that doctor’s office, pounded my chest with great amounts of bravado and announced I am She-Diabetic, hear me roar! Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how it went down, but in my head that’s how it played out. As you know, after last week’s appointment with my maternity doctors, I walked out feeling crushed, defeated, like I was the worst mom-to-be ever. But thanks to the advice of my moms and sister-in-law, I decided to take charge. I made a follow-up appointment on Monday with the senior doctor in the clinic who has a pretty good history with my family. I had a page full of notes with me to ensure I wouldn’t forget a thing, and with my voice somewhat on the shaky side (Hey! Even She-Ra didn’t like confrontation without her super-chick costume!) I listed off all the reasons why I had concerns

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24 weeks: Counting down the days

Dear Blood Sugars, Are you unaware that my birthday, one of my most favourite days of the year, is just around the corner, five days around the corner to be exact, which means we’re in birthday three week time, a time that is supposed to be happy and joyous and beautiful and wonderous – NOT TEAR FILLED! Or, are you just being plain nasty? Because after the week you’ve put me through, I’m having my doubts about you. I’m beginning to think you hate me and I’m wondering why. Don’t keep me in the lurch here, dear BG, I would very much like to know, because then maybe I could tackle your evilness, put a stranglehold on it, kick it to the bloody curb. Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I would like to do. Because right now, you’re making me look bad, real bad, and in case you haven’t noticed,

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Run for Water: one year later

Oh how a year can change. This time last year I was cursing myself for signing up for the marathon, for torturing myself once again in something I didn’t quite enjoy the first time around. And this year, well, I wasn’t a marathoner, wasn’t a half marathoner, wasn’t even a runner. I was a 5k walker. We couldn’t let alien thumb sucker’s debut on the racing circuit go unnoticed now could we? One of the first questions Big Ring asked of me after I had crossed the finish line of today’s Run for Water was “How hard was it for you not to run?” It was a question my walking partner had also asked of me along the route. And you know, had I been on my own, trying to get through those 5 kilometres solo, it would have probably killed me. I mean, just seeing all the fair-weather runners

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