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.