Getting My Fix

Sometimes I feel as if I’m becoming a doctor junkie. I feel so much better after I’ve seen Dr. Maier (kind of high, actually), as if some unfathomable weight has been hoisted from my shoulders. I know why I feel this way; it’s because I’m certain something terrible has happened to the baby between each appointment. This past time, it was because the puppy jumped on my stomach, and also because I had been so anxiety-ridden due to amnio/waiting for results that I was sure I had poisoned the fetus with my bad energy (this seems like a rather Darwin Karl-esque thing to think, actually).

I realize that all of these thoughts are absolutely irrational and ridiculous, yet that does not reassure me until I have seen the baby moving around on the ultrasound or heard his little badoom badoom heart on the fetal heart monitor. And then I am buoyant, joyous, restored.

At 19 weeks, I am becoming more insulin resistant, which is common for Type 1s in the second and third trimesters of pregnancy. Not that this makes me happy. At all. On Friday I made the call myself and switched my bolus (carb-covering insulin) rate from 10 carb grams to 1 unit of insulin down to 7 to 1. This is contrasted with a 15 to 1 pre-pregnancy carb-to-insulin ratio. I hate eating through my pump reserves faster. It’s stupid, but it was a point of pride that I could get through three full days before having to change my infusion set. Now, it’s closer to 2 to 2 ½ days. I am not a fan of changing my set, and having to do so more often is just another task that I’m adding to the schedule.

Speaking of tasks, Peter was away backpacking this weekend, which is great for him; I don’t begrudge him this time at all. I mean that sincerely and seriously. I love that he loves to be outdoors and by himself climbing peaks and peeing off mountains. But at the same time, at this point it’s just a lot to take on household-wise by myself. Haiko is going through a teenage hyperactivity streak that renders him near impossible to wear out. By contrast, I am very, very easy to wear out. On Saturday I took Kristin’s Yoga For Back Pain workshop (2 ½ hours), which was great, very restorative and it was fantastic to stretch and move and sweat. But on Sunday I had basically lost it. I felt so down and tired and energy-less. I eventually got my shit together and cleaned the house, pulled up the dying garden, walked the dogs, did four loads of laundry, listened to lots of podcasts, cooked dinner, etc. But it was hard to get there for a few hours.

Another highlight of the weekend was meeting Nickie, who I'm pretty sure will be our doula. Peter still has to meet her, and I really liked Leila, but Nickie has worked with diabetic pregnants before, and she is studying to be a midwife. I really liked her competency with medical issues, procedures, etc. I am trying not to be swayed by the fact that she is totally cool (her dad was, in her words, “the American that ruined the German metal band Accept when he became their second singer”). Nicky is smart and pretty and tattooed and intuitive and sensible. I just really dig her. Thanks for the recommendation, Jen. I also like that she brings the nursing staff brownies during labor. (Talk about scoring literal brownie points.)

Today, when I saw Sharon, my pump specialist, and Dr. Maier, my perinatologist, Sharon said, “Look at you! You’re looking like quite the cute pregnant lady now.” I think in part it was because of this skirt. I totally recommend it to pregnants and non-pregnants alike. It’s the Patagonia Morning Glory skirt. It has this great flippy waistband that I used to just roll down pre-baby, but now it covers my bump quite nicely, and since it’s made out of climbing tight material (good ol Patagonia), it hugs the belly nicely.