Some Final Thoughts on Managing Pregnancy With Type 1 Diabetes

This post was prompted by the realization that I just ate two slices of Zachary's pizza, a chocolate chip cookie, and an iced latte for lunch on 4 units of insulin. And my after lunch bloodsugar was 94. (Type 1 diabetic ladies, breastfeed, because it makes your insulin needs miniscule!)

(Also: I love my Moby.)

So, here's a list of some of my top considerations and ideas for successfully managing a healthy pregnancy as a Type 1 lady:

1) Exercise. This is my biggest piece of advice. It will make you feel better every single day. Exercise even in the first trimester when you feel nauseous. Exercise in the last trimester even when you feel like a beached whale. It will improve your body and your emotional state. And it will also help you to recover after your pregnancy. I labored without pain medication for 26 hours and then was up walking around the hospital 14 hours after my eventual c-section, and I credit that largely with my regimen of swimming, hiking, pilates, and yoga.

2) Check your bloodsugars religiously. I checked mine 10 to 12 times a day. If you can, push your doctor to approve a continuous glucose monitor for your pregnancy. This will mean you won't have to wake up three or more times a night. But seriously: even if, like me, you are waking up at midnight, three, and five in the morning to check your bloodsugars, it's all worth it. I mean, look at him. Isn't a beautiful, healthy baby like him worth all those finger pricks?

3) Cut yourself some slack. Try to eat a very low-carb diet, but don't drive yourself crazy. If you need a bowl of ice cream to take the edge off a particularly crappy pregnancy day, take the extra insulin and treat yourself. But then get off your butt and take a walk!

4) Start managing your pregnancy before you're pregnant. Get your a1c down months in advance, get used to checking your bloodsugar all the time, and start eating a healthy diet! It will make everything so much easier.

5) Get on an insulin pump. If I'd tried to manage this pregnancy with needles, I would've been much less healthy. My insulin pump enabled me to go from an a1c of 7.4 to 5.1 in just over a year. That is huge.

Any other diabetics, or non-insulin challenged ladies, have advice for maintaining a healthy pregnancy? Please share!

Our First Two Weeks

Wow. Motherhood. Fatherhood. Babyhood. We've had a pretty good first two weeks. I can't believe how overwhelmingly emotional this transition has been. I sometimes just look at him and start crying because I love him so much. I wasn't expecting that, for sure. And sometimes I cry because he won't stop crying. Overall though, Uli is a very good baby. He sleeps for 3 to 3 1/2 hours between feedings most nights, doesn't have too many inconsolable freakout crying sessions, and in general seems pretty content to have us as parents, which I will take as a compliment.

We're so grateful for all of the lovely gifts that have been arriving on our doorstep, from books and CDs for Uli to this gorgeous quilt that Auntie Vickie sewed for Uli. Thank you so much!

Challenges have included my oversensitivity to his every change in appearance and feeding/excreting patterns — one of the weird side effects of being a diabetic is worrying that your baby is going to be less than perfect, healthwise. So far though, he's doing well. We found a great pediatrician, had a good meeting with a nice lactation consultant in Oakland (and a really bad consult with a bitchy consultant in Walnut Creek; Peter told her that we weren't coming back for a follow-up because I didn't appreciate her bedside manner — she told me that my right nipple was "the double black diamond of nipples" among other insensitive comments).

We've even been out for meals now and then! I'm finding it's all about timing. If I nurse him first, he's mostly happy to sleep in his sling through brunch/lunch. What a good boy!
Parenthood, in these first two weeks, has been an amazing rollercoaster of emotions, experiences, and new patterns, and I'm sure it will continue to be this way for the next 20 years at least. But we're excited to see where this ride takes us!

When the Birth You Need Becomes the Birth You Want

Spoiler alert: The baby is here. He is beautiful, healthy, cuddly, lovely, absolutely perfect!

But it took us a while to meet him.

A week ago, I started to get really itchy. Really itchy. This was combined with some rather impressive swelling. The doctor and my doula had both said that the swelling wasn't out of the normal range for pregnant women (i.e. preeclamptic swelling), but I had a feeling something was weird. I went in for an appointment with my perinatologist on Tuesday afternoon, and nothing seemed particularly off: my blood pressure was fine, there was no protein in my urine, and I wasn't grossly swollen. Still, Dr. Maier ordered a CBC and two liver tests.

Of course, being me, I checked on the liver test results at 7 in the morning, three hours before Dr. Maier got to this clinic. And the liver results were pretty much off the charts. One test, whose normal range is 10 to 40, and my last pre-pregnancy test result had been 12, was now 92. Another was crazy high as well.

As soon as Dr. Maier came in, he called me and told me that we needed to get to labor and delivery immediately. The baby had to be born now. My liver was acting like the organ of someone who had cirrhosis, and worse yet, my blood platelets were dropping. This meant that if they got below a certain level, I wouldn't be able to clot, which means I could bleed to death.

Still, my number was okay enough to actually allow me to labor. Peter came home and we drove to Walnut Creek, checked in, called our doula, and started misoprostol, a cervix ripener that we hoped would get me dilated. Nickie, my doula, and Elly, my sister, showed up, and we hung out, chatted, played Scrabble, and waited for things to happen.


When the nurse checked my cervix it was dilated 1 cm, and starting to efface. We then started an IV of pitocin, and everyone else fell asleep, and I snoozed on and off throughout the night, waking up when contractions started to get bad.

Along with the pitocin, I was also on an IV of magnesium to prevent seizures due to my liver issues, a saline drip, and later, I would be on a second IV pole for insulin. Which, let me just say right now, is total bullshit. There is absolutely no reason why an in-control diabetic should have to be on an insulin drip. My bloodsugar had been in the low 100s the entire labor up to this point, but as soon as they put me on an insulin drip, with THEM regulating it, my bloodsugar jumped to the mid to high 100s, which was unacceptable to me. I did not want my baby to be born with a pancreas that was in overdrive due to mama's high bloodsugar. This would mean that they would give him formula when he was born, and I absolutely did not want this to happen.

By 9 am I had dilated to between four and five inches, which was really exciting! I felt as if maybe this labor was going to happen. The contractions were getting a little more difficult, but nothing I couldn't handle with breathing, foot rubs, the yoga ball, and the help of my husband, doula, and sister. Shortly after that, my water broke, and I started to really feel optimistic.

The hardest thing about laboring as a high-risk woman was the amount of medical equipment they had placed on me. There were the two IV poles with five bags of meds, and then there was the fetal heart rate/contraction monitor, which was plugged in, and gave me about five feet or room to walk, move, and labor. As someone who deals with pain through movement, this was not cool. Also, I had to have all three of my helpers help me get to the bathroom and back every time I had to pee, because they had to help me unplug everything, wrap the cords, and push the poles to the toilet. It was insane.

So, I labored from 9 to 4 pm trying to get dilated. They turned the pit up to 26 (this is really high) and kept it there. At one point I was having monster contractions that lasted for 5 to 6 minutes, with 30 seconds of rest in between each contraction, and hten another giant contraction. It was really fucking hard, but I was optimistic, because these monster contractions just had to be doing something, right?

Apparently not. When my cervix was checked at 4 I was still between 4 and 5 centimeters dilated, with no sign of anything changing. The baby was still really high in my uterus and was not descending.

This kind of broke me. The contractions were one thing, but the lack of progress, too? I was reaching the end of my rope.

The doctors told me that my platelet count had again dropped, and if it went any further they would have to give me steroids to prevent me from potentially bleeding to death in case of hemorrhage or the need for a c-section. I agreed at that point to get an epidural and maybe labor a little longer. The doctors were, of course, advising for a section.

Of course, trying to sit still for the epidural while these monster contractions were blowing through me was also really freaking hard. I really have to say thank you to Toni, a wonderful nurse who just held my hand through the entire epidural process and helped me to breathe and stay perfectly still.

After the epidural was placed, Peter tried to talk me into laboring for another hour or two to see if anything was going to happen. He knew how much I'd wanted a vaginal birth, but at this point, I firmly believed that the baby wasn't going to descend. I made the call to get a section.

Everything after that happened very quickly. I was prepped for surgery, given the epidural, and whisked away. Peter came with me to hold my hand, fan my face, and hold the baby after he came out. The section went totally fine. As soon as Uli came out, Peter said there were stunned gasps as he just kept coming out. The guy was 22 inches long! He was also almost 10 pounds, but he was just really darn long as well.


He was inconsolable, crying, screaming, kicking around. That is, until Peter talked to him. At that moment, he hushed completely and his eyes snapped open. He recognized his dad's voice.

I cried in relief and happiness as they sewed me back up (a very small incision and scar for a very big baby, the nurses in maternity would later tell me), and then when I was wheeled to recovery, they gave me my baby to hold for the first time. And I totally fell in love. I cannot describe this feeling. It is completely overwhelming, and took me by total surprise. The love I have for this baby!

Uli Forster Spoerl, 9 pounds, 11 ounces, 22 inches long, with a silky head of black hair, was a champ throughout the birth process. He also latched on immediately, and my colostrum came in very quickly. However, he did come out with a bruise on his entire right side, which the doctors think may have something to do with why he didn't come out vaginally; he may have been caught up on my ribcage or another part of my body.

Unfortunately, because of this bruising and other factors, he had to get photo therapy because he had borderline levels of bilirubin (jaundice). This occurred on Sunday, which meant I'd already had two and a half days of falling in love with my baby and sleeping with my baby and touching my baby constantly. And then they took him off the nursery for 24 hours of photo therapy. I was only able to take him out of the little nursery case once every three hours for a half an hour of feeding each time. And though I was welcome to stay there and touch him and talk to him, it only agitated him to have me that close and not picking him up. So basically I spent all of Sunday weeping. Again, I can't believe how completely I'd fallen in love with him.

By Sunday night his bili levels had dropped, and by Monday morning, they were low enough for me to bring him back to my room for lots of snuggling and cuddling. And by 2 we were out of the hospital. Home. Safe. Happy. Exhausted.

Even if this was not my ideal birth plan, I still am profoundly grateful for what I did get. I got to labor for 26 hours without pain medication. I was surrounded by support from my sister, husband, doula, and the wonderful nurses at Kaiser Walnut Creek. And my after care as well was just absolutely wonderful from the nurses and doctors. I never thought I would feel so content about having a c-section, but I am. It simply didn't matter how he arrived here, as long as he arrived healthy and happy, which I think I can say he is.


Welcome to the world, Uli boy. We sure love the heck out of you already.

I Could Do Without . . .

I suppose immediately I could do without the swelling. My ankles, my calves, my hands, my wrists . . . I am retaining fluid and so very, very puffy. You can kind of see it in my hands in this picture. My blood pressure is higher than normal, still within okay ranges for now, but it concerns me that it's gone up, probably no coincidence that it went up right after I stopped my regular acupuncture treatments and started with the acupuncture inductions.

More immediately, I could do without the fear. I am trying not to carry it, but the doctors seem as if they have no idea that how they present information can be misleading, discomforting, and confusing, to the average patient. I ask lots of questions, and try to root my way around the issue, so this has helped some.

For instance, on Friday, at my appointment, my doctor started off by saying that inducing labor because of a predicted large baby did not reduce the incidence of c-section. Which seemed obvious to me, since induction more easily leads to c-sections. Then he said that in my case, we'd worry about shoulder dystocia, which would be a good reason to induce, because diabetic babies tend to have larger bodies than heads, that they're "chubby" because of the mom's high bloodsugars.

(Again, please remember, I have an a1c of 5.1; my baby is large, but so are most babies in my family, regardless of diabetic status.)

Then my doctor said, "However, judging from the ultrasound, your baby's head is in proportion to its body. You just have a big baby."

DUH. I mean, I KNOW that I have a big baby. I walk around every day with this little dude. I know he's a big guy. And I have had a feeling all along that he is healthy, strong, and, well, in proportion.

So after scaring the bejeezus out of me with the shoulder dystocia crap (which is still scary, even though it occurs in a very tiny percentage of births), he agrees that yes, I am likely not a likely candidate to experience it in labor.

Blech.

This reminds me of something that happened the other day, too.

Doctor's comment:

"Your amniotic fluid is slightly high today. It's still within normal range, but it's probably because your bloodsugars have been high."

My bloodsugars had not been high.


NST technician's comment:

"Your amniotic fluid is a little high today, but that could be because your baby just peed. Let's look." (She checks the ultrasound as she's scanning fluid.) "Yep. Your baby's bladder is empty. He probably just peed."

Do you see how the latter's comment is so much more patient-friendly and reassuring? It drives me crazy that this sort of thing is overlooked in patient care, especially when I am there all the damn time.

Still, I agreed to an induction on March 1st if the baby doesn't come by then. Peter asked me today if we were actually going to go through with it. I honestly don't know. I want to allow him time to come on his own terms (or the terms that I am "naturally" allowing him to come by). I'm going to do a few more acupuncture inductions this week, I am taking homeopathics, I am walking uphills, I am trying to envision him coming, I am trying to get my oxytocin levels up . . .

I feel ready. The guest room/nursery is ready. The crib is in our room. The diapers are all washed and ready to go. Our bags are packed. We are ready for you, Uli! We want to meet you! And I would really, really, rather meet you without intervention, induction, or a c-section. But no matter how you come to us, as long as you come healthy, we will be so grateful.

More Sewing!

I must be fully in the nesting-while-there's-still-time mode, because I whipped these up over the last two days.

(Thanks Mom for sending me Lotta Jansdotter's Simple Sewing For Baby, which is where these came from, pattern-wise.)

First, we have a fleecey baby hat modeled by a teddy bear passed on to us from April and Eric. The teddy bear is also swaddled in a snuggler. I will get to that later.


What is this? Why, it is my brilliant way of culling reggae t-shirts from Peter's wardrobe! This t-shirt has been made into another baby hat, with braided ties. For the reggae-loving baby.


And here's the finished snuggler. It has the softest, softest fleece on the interior, with Ikea Marimekko-esque fabric on the exterior. I really hope the chubster will fit in this thing for at least a couple weeks. After that, it will be Emily's and Ian's.

Wow. I am SPEECHLESS.

Well, not really. I sent a totally ridiculous email to my doctor with the subject line DUDE. The email was in all caps and basically ecstatic. Then I apologized, kind of, for being so over the top.

The reason? This.


My medical team was pleased when my A1C was 6.7. It was excited when my A1C then dropped to 6.4. But 5.1?! That is in the low range for normal non-diabetics. That is some crazy shit. I have never in my life had an A1C this low.

Studies point to a near-complete reduction or elimination of diabetic complications if an A1C of 8% or below is maintained. I haven't had an A1C over 8 in years and years, but they have mostly hovered in the 7s and 6s. But now? Now I want to maintain this freaking magical number for the rest of my life. Yes, it has required a lot of work and extra bloodsugar testing. But is is all completely worth it.

It's all completely worth it for my own health, and the health of this cutie little babe that soon will be making an appearance in the world.

Serious Signs of Nesting

Even more than usual, which is saying a lot, if you know me.

I just finished making this salve. There's a lot of it! I infused olive oil with fresh calendula flowers and rosemary needles. These two plants have great antifungal, antiseptic, and vulnerary (wound healing) properties. Calendula especially is supposed to be good for everything from diaper rashes to cracked nipples, so it will likely get lots of use on both me and the dude in the next few months or more. All that's in this stuff is beeswax, herb-infused olive oil, and Vitamin E oil. I didn't want to add any essential oil or scent because I wanted it to be as benign and edible as possible, especially if it's going on my nips when there will be a little chomper on there, too.


I also sewed up a a cover for the diaper changing pad. I need to sew up a few more. This one is so darn cute, though. I have some left over material that I think I might use to make an iPhone cover for myself.


I also sewed 10 curtains for the baby/guest room. I wish I would've taken pictures, because the difference between the ugly white blinds and these beautiful curtains is pretty stunning.


Indeed, even Peter said, "I knew that the curtains would make the room look different, but this is transformational!" I love it when Peter busts out with some ridiculous Peterism that plainly captures the situation at hand.


I also made two more on-the-fly diaper changing pads. They have an organic cotton towel on one side, and cute fabric on the other. I thought about putting a button and elastic on there, but a ponytail holder seems to work just fine, too.


I also sewed up this funny little square pouf/toy for Uli to lounge about on and cuddle with when he gets older. There's also a tiny matching pillow that has jingle bells in it, which should be a nice soft, cuddly toy that he can amuse himself with.


Still more crafting to go, though!

Settling Down

I know it's likely pure folly to wish for the early arrival of this kiddo, but wish I do. And I talk to him, too. He's actually a very good listener. I asked him to turn from breech to head-down at 32 weeks, and only did a handful of inversion poses to coax him along, and what do you know? Within two days he was head down. I am not going to take this as any sign that this kid will be compliant once he emerges from my womb; indeed, he has two of the most bullheaded, contrarian parents around, so it would be a miracle if he did listen to us.

Yesterday I had my first cervix ripening acupuncture appointment. My cervix is already pretty soft and low, and this was confirmed when my doula Nickie's mom Juli, who's a midwife, gave me an exam last night. Apparently I'm 1 cm dilated on the outer oss, and my cervix is low and centered, but not quite forward yet, and very soft. Julie asked me if my due date could possibly be off, since at 35 weeks I am already quite a bit ahead of the game as far as this goes. I don't think it could be, though, at least not by much . . . it could be that the little dude is just eager to get out into the world and go exploring with us, see what that barky puppy he's been hearing for the past many months actually looks like, get a glimpse of the East Bay Hills from an Ergo.

Juli also palpated my stomach again, and in her opinion, the babe isn't much more than 6 pounds. That's still big for his age, but not by much. And again, the mommies in my family all give birth to big old babies, so this isn't unexpected by any means. She also told me that I have a very open pelvis, which of course will help matters during labor.

Strangely, I've gotten another burst of endurance, and the belly, as big as it is, isn't bothering me too much. I've been taking long, brisk hikes, and though I haven't been swimming, I have been sewing and nesting like a right idiot. I've sewn two soft baby toys (one with jingle bells in it) and two portable, roll-up baby changing mats. I've also re-washed all of the baby clothes and all of the cloth diapers and organized them, gotten the babe's room together (though he will sleep with us for a long time, of course), and continued to try to get the house tidy and ready for his arrival.

We got good news from Nickie, our doula, last night, that Uli (the babe) is getting a limited edition vinyl copy of the new High on Fire record signed by Matt Pike, which made Peter nearly pee his pants with joy. I reminded him that the record was for Uli, not him, and Peter said that he would of course give Uli the record upon the occasion of his reaching adulthood. Pretty sweet. Due to this new news, we are considering an additional second middle name. But that's a top secret secret until we get the birth certificate signed!

My Baby, My Gigantasaurus

This is how you look when you find out that your 34-week baby is already nearly 8 pounds (and yes, this is how I dress now that I work from home, I apologize).

The little dude is now renamed the Gigantasaurus, given yesterday's NST and dr's appointment, where Dr. Maier did the ultrasound guesstimate on dude's height and weight. Right now he's measuring in at 37 weeks typical growth, even though he is only 34 weeks along. The estimated weight is 7 lb 13 oz, and the length is 21 inches. Yikes. There is a 15% error rate on these tests, so he could be 6 lbs 6 oz, or he could be bigger than the estimate. Yikes. Either way, this explains why I'm feeling so damn awkward. Since he went head down, my pelvic floor feels . . . strained, to put it politely. I can't imagine going on an 8 mile hike now. I am just slow, and sometimes it hurts.

So, we always knew that he was going to be a big guy, right? I mean, I'm a Type 1 diabetic, and even though I've had great control, diabetics still tend to have bigger babies. Add that to the fact that I was 10 pounds, my mom was around 10 pounds, and my sister was 10 1/2, and you can see why I'm concerned. I just don't want to have an 11 pound or up baby. I really don't. I want to have a natural birth, and I'd really like to avoid a c-section if at all possible, and my dr told me that when diabetics start to get to 10 pounds or so, they are pressured to have a c-section. Excuse my french, but fuck that. As Peter said, "They can pressure you all they want, but they can't make you do anything." Of course, I will absolutely have a c-section if it's a medical emergency, but not before that. Nickie already told me I have an amazingly roomy pelvis, and my mom told me that she hasn't noticed a difference giving birth to a 10 1/2 pounder vs. a 5 1/2 pounder (Grace and Forrest, the twins, were 5 1/2 and 6 1/2 pounds). So, those are two encouraging points.

And I know that all of the work I've been doing — hiking, pilates, acupuncture, yoga, swimming, good diet — will absolutely pay off after his birth even if I do have to have a c-section. It'll all work out. The good news is that everything with Gigantasaurus looks fabulous. He is firmly head down, he is kicking up a storm, and the first NST test showed him to be in awesome health, heartwise. Interestingly, I have gained zero weight in the past month, which means that while my limbs are looking a little thinner, my belly is looking hella big. Overall I've gained less than 30 pounds thus far, which I think is pretty good, weight wise, for the pregnancy.

I just need him to come out sooner than later. I've been telling Gigantasaurus that 37 to 38 weeks is a good time for him to come, since right now he could be averaging 1/2 a pound a week. That means he could be potentially close to or over 11 pounds if he goes to full term.

So, I'm going to probably start acupuncture inductions now at 36 weeks, if Meg, my acupuncturist, will allow it. And I'm feeling a little freaked out about getting everything done a few weeks sooner. We still need a carseat. We need to set up the nursery. I need to sew a diaper changing station for the top of the dresser, potentially refinish a dresser, sew a sheet for the cradle, see about getting a new bed frame made (that the dogs can fit beneath, space, space, space!) . . . still work 40 hours a week, and go to the clinic 2 to 3 times a week for NSTs and Dr. appointments, besides the acupuncture, swimming, pilates, dog duties, house duties, diabetes management, etc. Oy. And I know it's just going to get more hectic once Gigantasaurus arrives.

We're going to try to do a few fun things before babe arrives, including going to Commis for dinner, perhaps seeing Phedre at ACT, going to Davies to the orchestra . . . just a few things that will be hard to do with the baby, once he gets here.

Usually I eat eggs in the morning, but sometimes I have a hankering for something a little sweeter. So, since I'm on a low-carb diet, I thought I'd share this delicious low-carb smoothie recipe with any of you who need a quick yummy breakfast drink.

1/2 cup (5.5 g) plain organic yogurt
1/2 cup (6.5 g) frozen strawberries
1 scoop (2 g) low-carb vanilla protein powder
1 pkg stevia
a dash of vanilla

whir it all up and then transport it in an old cream jar on your way to walk the dogs in the rain!

Babymooning It in Gualala

Not to fall into a marketing trap or anything, but Peter and I took a babymoon the other weekend to beautiful Gualala. We stayed at Mar Vista Cottages, a wonderful homey spot on the coastline north of Gualala owned by Renata and Tom. Highlights included sitting in the pitch black in the outdoor soaking tub, listening to the rain come down and the frogs chirp as Peter drank wine and I drank copious amounts of water. And hiking 8 miles. And making delicious scrambles with the eggs from Mar Vista. And beachcombing. And visiting an odd general store manned by a parrot-impersonating bulldog named General. And many more lovely moments. This is mostly a picture entry, with some images from our stay.

The chickens produced like crazy, and we ate many, many deeply golden-yolked eggs.

A visit to the Sea Ranch Chapel.

I hate it when I take pictures with one squinty eye.

I loved the cottage (we stayed in cottage #5). It had a decidedly Scando/thrifted vibe. Peter declared it "very Elkan." I agreed, though said it was my style minus the weirdness. There were lots of embroidered, thrifted linens used for curtains, pretty little nature elements, etc.

Me and the babe on recently opened public coastline on a windy afternoon.

The beautiful Northern California coastline.

A view from our cottage.

Lola, the unofficial greeter of Mar Vista.

I'm Part of the Resistance

The insulin resistance, that is. Over the past few weeks, my body's resistance to the stuff that keeps me and the babe healthy has stubbornly dug its heels in, and refused to cooperate. I'd been warned that, due to pregnancy hormones, my insulin needs could double. However, at this point my needs are between tripling and quadrupling. If I don't exercise after I eat, my insulin is even more sluggish, and I often have to stack dosages. It's freaking me out, and making it very hard to manage things. I'm checking my bloodsugar about a dozen times a day, and constantly having to change ratios on my insulin pump. It's kind of the suck.
Because of my insulin resistance, my doctor has recommended that I work from home for the remainder of the pregnancy, so I can exercise after every meal. While this is for the best, I'm also a bit worried about becoming a recluse (so, if any Bay Area peeps want to stop by and exercise/work with me, please let me know). I plan on trying to swim close to every day, hike with the pups, and work on pilates/yoga/strength exercise at home at night. I have a plan, and I'm pushing on, but having my body refuse to cooperate has made things difficult, and more than a little scary. I worry that my bloodsugars will get out of control, that the baby will get too big, that I will have to be induced soon, soon, soon . . . . basically, I worry.

But I'm trying not to, you know? I'm trying to enjoy things, even as they're this hard right now. On Sunday Peter and I went on an 8 mile hike. We did it in a little over 3 hours, which, as far as I'm concerned, is damn good for a Type 1 diabetic mama-to-be who's 32 weeks pregnant. My body may not be cooperating with the insulin, but it is still capable. I have to concentrate on that.

The Badditude

I'm starting to feel pretty uncomfy, and this has contributed to my badditude of the past few days. What originally started it was a double whammy of a day last week: an emergency dental appointment and an emergency doctor's appointment.

See this little guy? He is in need of some major discipline, discipline that I feel incapable of issuing at this point in the pregnancy. He has made steady progress since we got him in June (a mere week before I found out I was pregnant with the little dude). He has been housetrained, learned how to sleep quietly (mostly) through the night, taken basic obedience classes, learned how to walk offleash, been well-socialized, and in general is a delightful pup. But he's still a pup, with lots and lots of energy.

I found this out the hard way last Wednesday when I took him and Ozzie on an offleash walk at the Bulb, and Haiko, distracted by his excitement over playing with another dog, ran straight into the back of my knees and flipped me on my back. Flat on my back. My back still hurts as I type this. I really need to make that massage therapy appointment, actually. Anyway, it hurt like hell. Plus it is really embarrassing to have to rock a little bit on your back and side to get up out of the mud after this happens. The other dog's owner asked me if I was okay, and between crying and hiding my face in shame over my manatee-like rocking return to an upright position, I managed to wave her away. Then I had to go to Walnut Creek to get another damn ultrasound to make sure that the placenta hadn't detached from the uterine wall and that the baby was still okay. It was pretty damn scary. Peter had left that early morning to go to Tahoe, so I felt doubly alone, having to deal with all of this by myself.

Luckily, the baby was okay, the placenta was attached still, and I am fine, save for the horrible backache. And I have started instituting a more disciplined, Cesar-like routine with the pup, including making him sit and wait for the door to be opened, no paws up on legs or furniture to get our attention, etc.

We really need to hire Tanja, but she is so expensive, and our money is rather dwindled at this point, especially with less coming in in rental income at the moment, and me soon going on maternity leave. This is important, though, so we need to find ways to budget for it.

So, the other double whammy of that Wednesday was my visit to the dentist. I have an extreme dental phobia. It has something to do with, perhaps, my very first dentist being a weirdo criminal who went to jail, my lack of flouride as a child, my father's refusal to let us have x-rays until we were, like, 12, and other assorted dental horrors over the past 20-some years. Whilst flossing my teeth on Tuesday evening, an entire filling popped out of a molar and flew across the bathroom. Awesome! So, I ovaried up and made an appointment with Peter's dentist. And guess what? It was okay. She was really nice. The first nice dentist I have had in years! I go back to her today for a cleaning, and then we're going to do many more horrible teethy things once the baby is born, including, possibly, Invisalign for my crooked teefs. I cannot even imagine having straight teefs. It is beyond my considerable imagination.

So, the badditude. It is here, but I don't want to get used to it. I want it to change. Maybe tonight's prenatal water exercise class at the Y will help. Or tomorrow's acupuncture. Or stretching my sore back. Something has to help. Because I don't want to do another 8 weeks with this badditude. Blech.