An Idiot Without Cake: Gestational Diabetes And My "Treatment"

Please read my post below to get up to speed on my "gestational diabetes" diagnosis.

So yeah. Mad. I got mad at three things.

1. Mad at myself.
I know that every body and every pregnancy is different. I know plenty of fit, healthy women who were diagnosed with GD because that's just what happened. But I also knew it was HIGHLY likely that my I CAN EAT EVERYTHING I WANT BECAUSE I'M PREGNANT attitude and menu planning was my problem. Cake really isn't a food group.

When I started to think about it, all of the "it's worse the second time" hormonal things I was talking about earlier? ALL of them can be attributed to too much sugar. Weird mood and body fluctuations? Crazy energy surges and crashes? Wacked-out sleep and dream patterns, beyond "normal" pregnancy wacked-out-ed-ness? Sugar, sugar, sugar.

Duh.


2. Mad at the diagnosis.
As I have repeatedly stated, I am not a medical professional AND every body is different. But precisely because every body is different, I think that calling it "gestational diabetes" is alarmist and terrifying and not quite true across the board.

Some people can't attribute GD to diet alone or at all. Some women -- say, those with a genetic predisposition to diabetes -- can change their diet and exercise routine completely and still need medication.

However. If I have no history of this, no predisposition to it in any way, AND my blood sugar levels go back to "normal" two days after I stop shoveling high-fructose corn syrup into my mouth, then I feel like my "case" of this "condition" is maybe not as dire as one would think given what it's called. You know?


3. Mad at the treatment.
OMFG. The moment the nurse told me I would be contacted by a "center" who "does counseling" for "diabetics" I knew I was in for it. There is a state-run program (UGH!) and I would be enrolled and, the nurse said, they will help me understand how to monitor my blood sugar (great!) and -- the words I never, ever, ever want to hear ever --

adjust my diet

to keep my blood sugar in check.

Can you hear me rolling my eyes?

Yes, of course I'd GO to the session. I'm not totally negligent and irresponsible.

I am, however, a nutritionist's worst nightmare. I am smart and well educated and extremely knowledgeable about food, diet, and nutrition. KNOWING what I should do has never been my problem. DOING it? Well, right.

I tried to put on my best face, my best sense of humor, my best attitude and attend my one-on-one session as bravely as possible. I decided before I arrived that I would just be honest with my counselor. I would tell her that I understand my diagnosis, I am certain I know how it happened AND I am certain I can get it and keep it under control. I would not be rude or snarky or sarcastic, I would be open and tell her that I'm feeling stupid and silly. I hoped for the best.

The best did not happen.

And The Pregnancy Made Of Cake Comes To An Abrupt Close

So this Gestational Diabetes thing. Where to begin?

The beginning? Probably.

I am prone to exaggerate sometimes. But when I wrote that I'd been spending this entire pregnancy eating sugary foods and starchy foods and starchy foods covered with sugar, I was not exaggerating. This isn't to say I haven't been eating any proteins or veggies, but carbs have been FRONT AND CENTER of just about every meal and snack I've eaten, especially since the holidays. And because I hardly ever allow myself "sweet" foods when I'm not pregnant, I'd forgotten: the more sugar I consume, the more I want.

Somehow, for no reason that is actually justifiable in any way, I decided to ignore EVERYTHING I know about nutrition --

CAN WE JUST REMIND OURSELVES THAT I KNOW A LIFETIME'S WORTH OF NUTRITION?

on the idea that "it's okay because I'm pregnant."

Two giant desserts a day? Not a good idea.

But if we're going to start from the beginning, let's talk for a moment about my pregnancy with Eve.

I spent the entirety of my first pregnancy, as so many women do, absolutely freaked out about everything. I went into the pregnancy terrified it wouldn't take. I also went into it terrified because I was significantly overweight and, despite being completely healthy otherwise, the books/guides/ internet seemed to suggest that I was doomed. DOOMED. I was going to have Gestational Diabetes and high blood pressure and preeclampsia and be miserable and everything was going to suck and be horrible.

It wasn't until after I gave birth that I got mad about that. Because my first pregnancy was the kind of pregnancy every woman wants. It was smooth, and healthy, and happy. And by all accounts? Easy. It turns out that sometimes, being overweight does not HAVE to mean that your body doesn't work right. It doesn't mean that you're a monster.

So! HAHA! I thought. I will NOT spend this second pregnancy terrified of everything! I thought. I will be CHILL. Especially because -- as I wrote about like 2 entries ago -- I started this pregnancy 30 pounds LIGHTER than I was the last time!

Um. But I really, really, really pushed it.

And so by my second GD test, my numbers were "elevated." Not terrifyingly high, but elevated. Enough to be in the Gestational Diabetes range.

Oh, crap.

The first thing I felt upon hearing the diagnosis: shame. Deep, aching shame. There is NO question as to how this came about. My body has gotten less efficient at processing sugar because I have absolutely overloaded it with pasta and waffles and Sour Patch Kids. I took being cavalier about sugar to an extreme.

So after the shock and shame and the perhaps somewhat irrational I HAVE RUINED OUR BABY I *AM* A MONSTER! crying jags, I had to face the reality of what GD actually is, and what I need to do to fix it.

I got a grasp on my diagnosis.

Hi, I am not a medical professional. Do not listen to me. But what I understand of GD is that it means your body has become less efficient about processing sugars. This can usually be rectified by adjusting your diet. GD ends when you give birth and the placenta (which is calling the shots while your pregnant) leaves your body. Aside from the fact that your pancreas has gotten a little "sluggish," it also means that the inefficiently processed sugars -- the ones that aren't leaving your body? -- are going to your baby. So, you're essentially overfeeding your baby. This can lead to oversized babies, which can lead to stressful birth situations. There is also a link between women having GD developing Type 2 Diabetes later in life, but that's correlative.

And THEN I got the message that I had to begin counseling sessions with a nutritionist.

And THEN? Then I got really mad.

Still Constructing

Please note: this is the basic new template, but I will be updating/tweaking/making all kinds of changes to this template as we move forward. So if links don't work and pictures seem outdated and weird stuff is going on, just ignore it. LA LA LA.

*cough* Pardon My Dust *cough* (Also? Can You "Like" This?)

Remember how I mentioned that I'm going through a site redesign? Yeah, well, that's underway. As of right now (Monday, February 21) we have reverted to a basic template while collecting sparkles for the new one. Thank you for your patience and not pointing and laughing at my blog standing here in its underwear.

(If blogs had nightmares, it would be this.)

IN THE MEANTIME, I have two very important updates:

1. I never, ever, ever, ever ask for votes for stuff. I think if a blogger/person is going to be recognized in a real way, it should be by a panel of judges, not by people who are all VOTE FOR ME EVERY DAY LOVE ME VALIDATE ME!!!!!!! You know? Vote-baiting is the same as link-baiting and I think it's crass.

In fact, the last time I think I asked for your votes was when I was "competing" with the awesome Bethany in a ridiculous 2007 Blog Interview contest and the whole reason I wanted to win was because the prize was a laser pen that came with "The Power To Burn!". I'm not even kidding.

I came in 2nd place. I won a remote-controlled car with a secret camera.

But! Now I'm up for consideration (along with my partners) as a Top 50 Mompreneur of 2011 on Babble. This list actually means something in the blogging world, and would help boost the profile of The Clever Girls Collective and, by association, all the bloggers we work hard to represent.

To vote, just go here and click "like."


2. I failed my two-hour glucose test.  Which means I've been diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes.

Now. When I stop shoving handfuls of high fructose corn syrup into my mouth for 3 seconds and think about this, it makes sense. But I went through the initial shock and horror and humiliation that one goes through, ugh. Then I did a lot of research.  Then I went to a counseling session and upset my counselor so much I thought she was going to kick me out (she practically did).

But until I can give you more details, just know that I AM FINE. I also think calling it "gestational diabetes" is stupid.  Also also, since I found out I've made some minor modifications and my blood sugar has been totally normal.

But that counseling session? I can't wait to tell you about it. HOO BOY.

In Case You Were Worried About My Dating Prospects

Because, I gotta say, I have been.

I mean, YES. I'm happily married and all. But I've heard that some people use all these new-fangled tools like Twitter to facilitate dating. And I have to screw up my forehead and think, "UM? REALLY?" Because the bulk of people I follow and who follow me fit into these categories:

• People I know (and am therefore not dating in real life; also, my actual husband)
  
• Women bloggers, mostly moms (not dating prospects)
  
• Funny people who are totally anti-social in real life (not dating prospects)
  
• Social media "experts" who seem incapable of having human conversations online, but who I follow in case they are actually "competition" (they aren't)
  
• Celebrities, mostly chefs (not really dating prospects but that's not really my fault)

But! Then I discovered Kevin. And all became clear to me.

Ish had better watch out.

Gratuitous Photo Of My Adorable Child

Ish and I finally, Finally, FINALLY purchased a real camera. We all knew my photos could only get better, even if I a) still have no idea what I'm doing and b) have to take 900,000 photos to get ONE that's a keeper.

The Cake Saga Continues: Week 27

So, I'm still knocked up.

Not to rub it in your face, entire rest of the country, but Northern California has been quietly enjoying spectacularly gorgeous "winter" weather. And I will not complain about that. BUT. It messes with my head. Because I'm due in May and since I found out about this pregnancy last August I've been all "I will have a baby in the spring!" Which means that every day where it feels like spring makes me think I'm due. You know? Except it's the beginning of February. I have three more full months -- an entire third of my pregnancy -- to go.

That doesn't equate to "soon" at all.

Meanwhile, I look a good 8+ months pregnant.

Let me tell you: a lot of things happened to my body in my first pregnancy that are pretty common but not so awesome. One of them was that my stomach walls got stretched so thin that it kind of...herniated? I guess? And you can't really fix that? But it means that if I push out my stomach, it pops out like there's a baby's head there, even when I'm not pregnant.

Let me tell you how incredibly sexy THAT is. At least it's a good party trick.

(Note: according to doctors, I'm no supposed to worry about this unless it starts to really hurt suddenly, in which case that probably means that an organ has started to pop out from behind my stomach wall. OH OKAY. I WON'T WORRY, THEN.)

Anyway.  Once I had an actual baby starting to take up space in my belly region again, my stomach walls just popped. So, yeah. 8 months pregnant. Except 6. I don't know how I can possibly get any bigger, but I am sure I'll get to find out and won't that be a fun game?

"Are you sure it's not twins?"

Sigh. Yes. I'm sure.

Oh, ALSO? The first pregnancy? My boobs didn't get any bigger. Everyone was like, "OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WHEN YOUR BOOBS GET BIGGER?" because they were already the size of my house and honestly, I was frightened for my family.

But instead, they just didn't get bigger. I guess they were already at maximum capacity.

Well, it turns out that EVERYTHING was at maximum capacity. During my first plus-sized pregnancy -- aside from my weight shifting and clothes fitting differently -- I never had to change the size of my clothes. My feet spread out a bit, but everything else I owned still fit me.

Then this time around, I started off my pregnancy 30 pounds lighter than last time. Yay! Right? Except you know where I'm going with this. That 30 pounds has made a huge difference in how pregnancy has been affecting me. I guess my body thinks I have 30 pounds of room to expand into. My boobs are slowly, steadily, unabashedly inflating. I do NOT fit into most of my "normal" clothes anymore, and certainly none of my "lost 30+ pounds" clothes.

Now my bras are barely fitting. My maternity clothes from last time around don't look right. Then last night, I had trouble zipping up my boots.

WTF, NATURE?

I mean, yes. I know I've been eating like a crazy pregnant woman. I know that cake isn't technically a food group. But I am offended (at whom? I don't know) that my BOOTS don't fit. It is a cruel, cruel joke that I had an easier pregnancy when I was more overweight.

I have heard from lots of people that the second pregnancy is usually more "more" because your body already kind of knows what to do. And it's been totally true for me. I started having cravings for sour/sugar (pineapple, lemonade, Sour Patch Kids) immediately. I had terribly vivid, wacky dreams right away. My pregnancy brain (ABSOLUTELY NOT SOMETHING I'M MAKING UP) kicked in by the first trimester. I could feel this little guy kicking me by 18 weeks, where it took me until week 24 to feel Eve.

I cry readily at everything, including -- most notably and most frequently -- made-up scenarios in which something bad has happened to Eve. MADE UP.  I also keep myself up at night worried about the same things. Two nights ago I couldn't sleep because I kept scaring myself about Eve possibly drowning in our pool. THAT WE DON'T HAVE.

All of this is to say, well, I don't know what my point is. Other than I am very, very pregnant and I still have a million weeks to go and you don't happen to have a donut on you, do you?

Oh, And "Walk Like An Egyptian" Needs Its Own Entry

My BFF, Emily and I listened to Walk Like An Egyptian approximately 30 million times in the span of maybe two months (oh, sixth grade! How I miss you and your crimping iron!), and knew every single syllable to that song.

 CRIMPED BANGS FTW!!!

Well, except we didn't.

This morning, Ish and I were playing our "for the baby" playlist I received as a baby shower gift for Eve, and Emily had added Walk Like An Egyptian (because you must start the children YOUNG if they are to have a proper musical education).

Also I would like to point out that I am now blogging about EGYPT which makes me a relevant and socially conscious blogger.

Anyway.  As I was singing along I realized that I STILL sing about 50% of the song totally, completely, unmistakeably WRONG.

But before we get to my 11-year-old-self's lyrics to Walk Like An Egyptian, I need to be sure that a) you've read the comments in my last post, because they are pee-in-your-pants funny; b) you will read the additional lyrics people sent me on Twitter (below); and c) marvel in the fact that someone who commented on the last post actually WORKS WITH MY SISTER (the one who sings about boogers) but didn't know it.

WALK LIKE AN EGYPTIAN*(Words in red are incorrect)

All the old paintings on the tomb

They do the san dance, on you know

[No, never occurred to me that it would be a "sand dance."]

If you move too quick (OH WAY OH)

They're falling down like a domino

[Also, hooray for the "OH WAY OH" parts because EVERYONE got those right.]

Oh the fizo man, by the Nile

[your guess is as good as mine]

They got your money, on your back

The crocodiles (OH WAY OH)

They snap their teeth on a cigarette

All the guys with the hookah pies say

[Yes, I sang hookah "pies" - it rhymed with "guys"] 

WAY OH WAY OH

OH WAY OH

WAY OH

Walk like an Egyptian

The Bond waitresses take their trays

[First I thought it was "born" waitresses.
Then I moved on and decided it was Bond, as in James Bond girls. As waitresses.]

They spin around and they cross the floor

They got the moves (OH WAY OH)

You drop your drink then they bring you more

All the school kids so sick of books

They like the funk and the middle ben

[I didn't know what a middle ben was, either.]

When the buzzer rings (OH WAY OH)

They're walking like an Egyptian

All the kids in the marketplace say...

Slight feet hit the street, bend your back

Shift your rum, then you bullet pack

[Um? No.]

Like sardine oil (OH WAY OH) 

[Sardine oil??? My favorite line of the song, I think]

So strike a pose on a Cadillac 

[what's funny here is that I thought I was making THOSE words up!]

If you wanna find all the cops

They're hanging out in the donut shops

They sing and dance (OH WAY OH)

They spin the cocoons down the block

[Because that's what cops do, right? With their cocoons?]

All the Japanese with their Yen

The party boys called The Gremlin

[Oh, those partying Gremlins!]

And the Chinese know (OH WAY OH)

They walk along like Egyptians

All the cops in the donut shops say...

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wow. I loved that song a LOT.

Here are some additional hilarious lyrics, brought to you from my friends on Twitter. Which is your favorite? I think "Go, go, Jason, Santa Claus!" might be mine.

lisaflo 

Forgot to tell you the fave of my misunderstood lyrics: "Michelle, my belle. Sunday morning play piano song. Play piano song."

melrut01 

My friend Joanna thought "Smack yo bitch up" was "Snap your picture." Told her the real lyric and she said she liked hers better.

melrut01 

My friend thought the line in Biggie's "Hypnotize" was "I just love your Fascist ways." And she kept belting it out in the car.

Falvar 

I thought Rocket Man was "burning up a suit of herring bone"

cowgrrlup

"don't go chasin waterfalls" to my baby brother was "go go Jason, Santa Claus" for YEARS.

HazlEyes 

another friend thought "like a drifter I was born to walk alone" from Whitesnake's Here I Go Again (obvs) was "like a twister..."

HazlEyes 

a college roomie thought "There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do" from Toto's Africa was "a hundred men on Mars"

Plookster 

I thought "Round yon virgin" in Silent Night was "Round John Virgin."

mcpolish1 

I thought fine young cannibals sang "she drives me crazy & I cant pay half my bills."

NapaValleyChick

my son thought "what about love" in the Swiffer commercials was "watermelon." I'm sure that's what Heart really meant.

hellohahanarf 

I fucked up John Cougar's "Diane don't sound like all that much fun" into "Dying don't sound" (& thought well no shit!)

theloudcorral 

a friend of mine thought the line "drink up baby doll" in a song was "ching chong baby doll" and was confused by the racism

molchase
The one that always gets me is "I don't want to come back down from this clown" in the Bush song "Comedown." I figured there was some kind of carnival ride involved, like a ferris wheel.

laurenmcneil 

I thought it was "Honest I See You," too!! Hand to god. I still sing it that way sometimes for nostalgic reasons.

clairnation 

"There's a bad moon on the rise" can easily be mistaken for "there's a bathroom on the right."

DMBastian 

My boss used to sing "All we are is just in the wind" and "crazy for a shotglass man". :)

MissCDas

my friend in hs sang Def Leppard "Pour Some Sugar on Me" as "1 + 2 is 3" he had no idea why I laughed so hard I fell of the couch.

AmySphere 

does it count if this one time, an ex of mine wrote me a break-up note using lines from a phil collins song?

seattlestevie 

As a kid, I thought Neil Diamond's "Forever in Blue Jeans" was actually "Reverend Blue Jeans".

laurenmcneil

My cousin and I used to sing "Trashy wants my wiiiiife" instead of "Try to see it once my wayyyy" in bush's "Everything Zen." To our credit, we were 14 and they were British.

CathyIsReal 

Had a friend in high school who BELTED the lyrics "You're the Wizard of Oz, oooh, oooh, ooh" (You're the One That I Want)

thecupcaketent 

In Billie Jean, thought it was "Be careful who you do bc a life becomes of you" I legit thought it was a profound msg for safe sex