Oh Me, Oh My!

Gathering, Growing

2011-01-08T22:20:00.000-08:00

He's so big now. Over 10 months old.

Things have been good, hard, amazing, important. I went back to work full time when he was a little over 5 months old . . . I only feel now as if I'm catching my breath, figuring out how to do this (while trying to figure out a better way) . . . Having him has made so many things so clear, yet I'm still struggling to make a reality out of these constant, small epiphanies. Soon enough. It's a new year, and there are new plans, new ways to grow and gather.

I feel so blessed that I have this strong, happy, beautiful, perfect little person in my life. I am tempted to make more like him (and for him). There are other, important things I need to do as well, things that will help me to become more myself again (but better, I hope). Here's to a new year, and all that's been amazing in this last one.

Some Final Thoughts on Managing Pregnancy With Type 1 Diabetes

2010-03-17T17:11:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-13T10:54:00.000-08:00

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

2010-03-02T08:56:00.000-08:00

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 . . .

2010-02-20T23:31:00.000-08:00

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!

2010-02-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

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.

2010-02-10T10:00:00.001-08:00

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

2010-02-06T14:44:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-03T08:17:00.001-08:00

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

2010-01-26T12:58:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-19T08:21:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-12T19:20:00.001-08:00

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

2010-01-04T09:29:00.000-08:00

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.

Seriously. Get in the pool.

2009-12-29T16:24:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Nickie, our awesome doula, I learned that this week the Berkeley YMCA is waiving its initiation fee (which is about $100). I've been dying to swim somewhere warm for at least a month. Just having a little of the weight off of my body for a little while each day seemed like such a luxury.

So, today, I got to swim in the shallow pool, which is basically for old ladies and pregnants, during the free swim hour at noon. It was great. The pool is heated to 90 degrees (a little too warm for me, actually), and it's really short in length. I'd swim a dozen laps and then stretch and crunch my belly, or do arm presses on the side of the pool, and stretches in the water. Or I'd just float on my back. It was all so nice. It's interesting, though, how quickly my stomach muscles feel strained. I was doing the breast stroke, and my stomach was stretched out more than usual, which may explain it. Crunching and compressing my stomach seemed to help work out the strainy pains, though.

While I was waiting to shower before doing my laps, this pretty older lady asked me my due date. Then she told me that she took the prenatal water exercise class at the Y when she was pregnant with her baby, and that she was still friends with those moms over 20 years later. I love stories like that! Here's hoping that some of the ladies I meet at prenatal yoga and swimming will remain friends for years to come.

The Holidays and After

2009-12-26T17:16:00.000-08:00

We had a lovely Christmas Eve dinner with Linda, Peter's mom, going trad German with lentil soup (delicious, made by Peter) cold cuts, cheese, and rolls, and a really yummy arugula, pomegranate, feta, orange, beet salad, which I was supposed to make, but Linda ended up making, because after I made a cake I fell asleep on the sofa. Yes, I'm starting to get more tired than usual again, not as bad as first trimester sleepiness, but still pretty tired. I'm hoping to avoid the grumpusing that I succumbed to during the first 12 weeks, though.

Oh! The cake! We'd gone to Chez Panisse on the 23rd, courtesy of the ever-and-always generous Linda, so I pulled out Chez Panisse Desserts and followed (kind of) its chocolate cake recipe. In case you're wondering, it involves 6 eggs (separated), more than a pound of butter (oh yeah), and a surprisingly minimal amount of sugar. I quadrupled the chocolate. And added three small grated zucchinis. The result? Super moist, dense, cannot-finish-a-skinny-piece-it's-so-rich chocolate cake. I whipped cream and served with raspberries. It was yummy.

Baking really centers me throughout this pregnancy. Granted, I can't eat hardly any of these baked goods, but my friends and co-workers sure love me. Well, Julia claims I'm trying to fatten her up (girl is skinny as a rail, it's true), and is excited that I will soon have a baby to cook for instead of her.

Linda left for LA bright and early on Christmas morning to see Moni and the grandkids, and Peter and I slept in, walked the dogs, and headed over to Kristin and Cameron's for Tom and Jerrys and sharing of the chocolate bird cake. Karen and Thaddeus met us there as well, and everyone enjoyed their Christmasy drinks and dense cake (except for me, but that is a-okay). The Tom and Jerrys did smell delicious, and reminded me of being at Karl's Bar (or was it another bar?) when I was four or five, when they'd serve the same drink.

Today we went to relatively flat Point Pinole and hiked for around five miles. It's not really a hike, given the flatness, it's a walk, and for me it's slightly slow walking at this point. Still, we did it in under 2 hours, which I thought was nothing to sniff at. I mean, look at the size of this belly. That's a lot to carry around at this point.
I'm about 7 1/2 months. There's still 9 weeks or so to go. I'm definitely feeling more awkward and cumbersome given the size of my belly. It's also weird to feel how the dude's movements have changed. I used to just be able to feel his kicks, more than anything, but now, I can feel him moving around a lot more, hands, legs, poky elbows and knees, all crawling around inside me. It's slightly creepy, but mostly fun to feel. He's definitely objecting to any bending from the waist, so I'm spending most of my time bending over with ballet-esque moves (sans the grace)or squatting low to the ground.

If we are blessed with a healthy baby and healthy birth recovery, as I hope we are, I am pretty confident I can handle everything from the get-go, save the patrolling and exercising of Ozzie and Haiko; okay, well, mostly of Haiko. He is crazy energetic. We spent half of the walk playing stick ball with him today, and the other half he ran around in giant circles for the rest of the walk. And he was only minimally tired. Then he puked in the car on the way back, but that is another story. Mostly I'm just worried about bundling up baby, me, and the dogs in March weather in Berkeley and getting the pups' ya-yas out to some degree. I guess we may be doing some Tilden loops. We'll see. I think that we're going to have to rely on the kindness of friends and neighbors, as well as increased dog walks from our lovely dog walker Ashley.

Making Difficulties For the Doctor (Or, Asserting My Right To Have the Opportunity to Labor Naturally)

2009-12-16T13:24:00.000-08:00

On Monday they measured the little dude's femur length to determine his size. He is tall. Taller than many babes his age, at 70% of the typical growth rate for 28 weeks. This isn't really any surprise; I am 5'8 and Peter is 6'1. We're going to have a tall kid. I asked Dr. Maier if his size had something to do with my diabetes (even though it has been in tight control). He said, from what he could tell, the dude "wasn't fat, he was just tall, you guys are just going to have tall, big babies."

Today, he's been kicking the hell out of me. I don't know how active most babies are supposed to be at this age (this is the week I start counting his kicks, to see how long it takes him to kick 10 times each day; most days he will kick 10 times in less than five minutes). He kicked me so hard and long today (probably 40 or 50 times in an hour) that I almost threw up. I cannot imagine what the little stinker will be up to at 36 weeks!

I had a frank discussion with Dr. Maier at our appointment on Monday about how much I do not want to be induced. I know they're going to pressure me to do so, especially because they want me to give birth a week before my due date(!) which seems cuckoo to me. At Kaiser, you can't choose your delivery doctor, which means you get whoever's on schedule when you go into labor (or are forced into labor). Knowing this, I asked if I could meet with the midwife team at Kaiser in the next month or so. Sure, Dr. Maier told me, but since I'm a diabetic, I will be the lowest priority for them. Ugh.

"Look," I told Dr. Maier. "I do not want to be underestimated simply because I am a diabetic. I think that you can agree with me that I have had a very easy and healthy pregnancy up to this point judging by anyone's standards, not just those for a diabetic. I just want to be given the chance to labor like a normal person."

"Okay, we'll get you a meeting with the midwives," Dr. Maier said.

"If I wasn't a diabetic I'd be having this baby at home," I added. "I'm kind of a hippie."

"I know," he said. I'm not sure exactly what part he knew. Probably all of it.

"See, I'm just afraid of getting pumped full of pitocin, and then the contractions either not coming on or coming on so hard and fast that the baby goes into fetal distress, and then we have to have a c-section."

"Elka, that's the last thing any of us want. And if you ask me, you're going to have no problem with your labor or birth. And you should know, this hospital has one of the lowest c-section rates in the Bay Area. We pride ourselves on that."

Still, even though this is good reassurance, I'm starting the acupuncture inducement at 37.5 weeks, twice a week, and following up with lot of sex (the prostaglandin in semen can soften the cervix) and nipple stimulation. Because I really want to see if my body can do this without the pitocin. And if it can't, or if for some reason little dude won't turn, and we have to have a c-section, that's fine too. We can't wait to meet him. But I'd like to simply be given the opportunity to do what most women take for granted.

(This is the message Dr. Maier left for us when he couldn't come to our German holiday party (his wife is from Germany, and a midwife): elka and peter vielen dank fuer die einladung aber leider konnen wir nicht kommen, weil Christiane arbeiten muss. vieliecht in naechsten Jahr.)

I like Dr. Maier.

When You're Preg and Diabetic, This is Not the Message You Want to See

2009-12-11T14:52:00.001-08:00

This is the lovely message I received at around 12:30 today when I tried to take my lunchtime insulin. My bloodsugar had been high for the past couple hours, and apparently no insulin was getting delivered to me or the little dude. This sort of thing, technical errors, etc., drive me nuts. I count on this little device to drip insulin into my body 24-7, and for it to suddenly konk out is not okay. It puts both me and the babe in danger.

So, since this happened at work, and I didn't have an extra infusion set on me, I had to race home (or, as race-worthy one can get on public transit), and then phone my insulin pump nurse to arrange prescriptions for long lasting insulin in case my pump was truly dead, and also phone MiniMed, the pump company, to see what the hell was up. The good news is that it doesn't look like it was a problem with my pump, just a problem with my infusion set. I've changed the infusion set, and my bloodsugar is back down to the low 100s, which both the little guy and I feel much more comfortable with.

The plan, I guess, is to just keep a very close eye on things (checking bloodsugars every two hours, middle of the night, etc.) and make sure that both the pump and the infusion set are behaving themselves.

Ah! The drama of the pregnant diabetic!

Here he is, by the way, the little guy (and me):

The Body, How It Changes (and also: Why I am Thankful For My Disease)

2009-12-04T11:47:00.001-08:00

Blargh. The belly is getting more unruly, and all of the little muscles in my groin/stomach/pelvis are starting to soften. A lot. Yesterday on the Reformer in Pilates class I actually had to get off the machine and stop during these inner thigh exercises. They're the ones where you put one foot on the bar and then slide the other leg back and forth on the rolling platform while standing up. They used to kill my inner thighs, now they are not as hard, or, at least, they didn't used to be so hard until this week. But apparently now my inner thigh muscles are softening so the baby can slip out easier (not that it's going to be easy). And it kind of sucks. I feel like a weakling.

Other body things include an insanely itchy lower belly/chest. I know it's because of the expanding tissue and stretching skin, but nothing seems to help. I also left my super-expensive organic belly balm somewhere in Washington state, so I'm back to using organic baby oil on my belly and boobs. Perhaps it'll magically show up again, hopefully.

Peter with his clown hair and Elka making her pouty face because she thought camera had not taken a picture. But it had. Whidbey Island, November, 2009.

And . . . what else? I have to pee constantly, but then I barely pee when I go to the bathroom. I'm sure this will get worse. I'm getting more worried about twisting something or hurting myself due to the softening muscles and joints. Apparently Nickie, our doula, wrenched her back when she was pregnant getting up from peeing! Everytime Haiko yanks me on his leash I think whoo! close one!

I'm sure there are plenty of other random petty complaints, but my biggest realization throughout this pregnancy is that I just am not okay with complaining about this pregnancy! It is a gift, pure and simple. I went into it with so much trepidation and fear, thanks in part to the medical community's underestimation of my ability to be healthy, and to carry a baby healthfully, thanks to my disease. But I am so healthy right now! My acupuncturist moved my appointments back to every two weeks, because I am so healthy. She checked my pulse points on Tuesday, smiled, and said, "There's nothing as beautiful as a healthy, strong, pregnant woman." That meant a lot to me.

So here's the thing: my disease has made me appreciate my pregnancy so much more. I am, in many ways, thankful for it. I don't take a moment of this pregnancy for granted. When the little guy kicks me hard, I am thankful that he is so strong, and that I am able to provide a home for him in my body that is welcoming, healthy, and safe, for the first 40 weeks of his life. It is hard for me to listen to healthy women complain about their pregnancies. I know that it is hard for everyone on some level, and everyone has issues, but this ability to carry a child, in spite of all its chaos and difficulty and hardship, is a gift, pure and simple. And for those of us who have a disease, who have had heartbreak trying to get pregnant or stay pregnant, every moment is a prayer answered.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-30T13:15:00.000-08:00

We drove up to Whidbey Island for Thanksgiving. Yes, from Berkeley. We drove straight there on Wednesday, which was stupid and something we will not do again. I mean, I am kind of a fan of the crazy all-in-one-shot road trip adventure, but with two dogs in the back of the car and a little kicker in my belly, it was a little more complicated than usual. Still, we mostly enjoyed ourselves, save for four hours of stop-and-go gridlock around Salem, OR.
Once on Whidbey we occupied ourselves with dog walks on the beach, visits with friends and family, and multiple Scrabblings. Oh, and eating, of course. Lots of eating.

In general my bloodsugar behaved itself; there was a low, low bloodsugar on the beach Thanksgiving afternoon, which made my walk back up the staircase and the path kind of jostley and uncomfortably shaky, even with the help of part of a chocolate bar, but overall everything was fine.

I really enjoyed seeing Marylynne and Ron again, who I hadn't seen since the wedding. It was also great to meet Karen, my mother-in-law Linda's college roomie and BFF. She is my new thrift shopping comradess. And of course, it was awesome to spend more time bonding with Linda, Aaron, Otto, Lyne, and Moni. It was a really wonderful holiday.

We got to see Lydia in Seattle on Friday night, and to meet her sis Sara and her hubby and baby Ivy, who nursed at the Greek restaurant happily (something that will likely be in our future as well). I asked Peter if the open-boob policy made him uncomfortable. "Of course not," he said. I should've known. He is the furthest thing from a gynophobe there is. Ivy was adorable, as was her mommy, as was their awesome coordinated Moby wrap/shawl combo. There is nothing cuter, I think, than seeing a baby poking her head out from between the buttons of a hand knitted shawl from her mommy's chest.

We stopped on the Oregon coast on the way back home for a stay at a dog-friendly hotel, with lots of gorgeous walking on the beach post- and pre-daylight. It was so beautiful. I was really glad we took the extra 2 hours to drive there and back.

One of my favorite parts of the Spoerl/Armstrong/etc holidays is the tradition of saying what we are all thankful for. It is really meaningful and wonderful, each time. Ron and Marylynne, who have been married for 27 years (Thanksgiving was their anniversary) talked about how they are more in love now than they have ever been, which is such a wonderful and hopeful thing to hear, as a younger couple. I talked about how I am thankful for renewal, physically (my body getting stronger through this pregnancy), emotionally (with my family, friends, and husband), and spiritually (with my outlook on the world).

What are you thankful for, and how was your holiday?

Diabetic Fun

2009-11-24T07:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was another of my every-three-weeks appointments. The cute nurse who always takes my vitals ushered me off to fill a cup with urine as soon as I arrived, and amazingly, as soon as I pulled my maternity jeans down, I peeled off my infusion set! Ugh. This has not happened in a long time.

I was pretty mad at myself, because I was having my annual review for work, and this meant that I had to go home (back to North Berkeley) after my appointment to re-do my entire infusion set, which would take another 45 minutes out of my work day, which might make me miss my annual review appointment. In the meantime, there was the issue of my body not getting any insulin whatsover delivered to it. Which was troubling.

Leave it to my awesome team to come up with a solution. Sharon, my insulin pump nurse, and Kimmy, my dietician, brushed off my concerns with a wave of their hands. "Oh, don't worry, we have extra sets." I'd just picked up insulin in the pharmacy, so I was able to borrow the rest of the medical equipment and get my pump working again. I also tried a new infusion set, the Silhouette, which inserts at an angle. This means it's easier to place on the side of my belly, out of the way of bumps.

But it's also meant for "extra lean adults" because its infusion depth is shallower than my standard infusion set. I am not extra lean. I have a giant belly (which is, as I type, shaking from a very kicky young man waking up) and a little more than usual fat on it thanks to the pregnancy. Still, it seems to be working great. And I like that the tool for inserting it was described in looks, by Kimmy, as a "Klingon ship" (we are secret Star Trek soul sisters, methinks).

During the appointment there was some discussion about being careful with not overexerting myself in yoga as far as my abdomen was concerned (no hernias, please), and also whether or not it was okay for me to continue to do upside-down positions (dolphin on the wall, handstands). Dr. Maier seems amused by me and said as long as I am not doing it for longer than the baby can hold its breath comfortably, should something get jostled or squished, then it is fine. I don't even do this very regularly, but it is something I enjoy that gives me an extra adrenalin rush that I crave from class, especially when I can't do things like twisted crow. Oh! And it turns out Sharon has taken class at Namaste with my friend and yoga teacher Kristin (she described Kristin as "that cute blond with the awesome bod"; Sharon is 67; I love that this is how she talks).

In other good news, at least on the ultrasound, it looks as if the baby is growing out of his Spoerl skull shape and into a more normal round Karl-Martin baby head shape. Wheeee! He's quite the cutie.

Oh, and in some really annoying news, apparently I have to go to Kaiser Walnut Creek twice a week starting at 34 weeks to get heartrate monitoring of the baby's reactions to uterine contractions, to make sure he can handle labor. This puts such a major crimp in my day, since it takes 40 minutes each way to get there, and this is time I could be spending yoga-ing, pilates-ing, walking dogs, working, baking, etc. Anything more interesting than non-stress tests. And I just think it's unnecessary. At this point it seems as if I am having a low-risk, easy pregnancy based on anyone's standards, not just those for a diabetic! I'm going to ask some other peeps about this and see what they think, and also see if I can get this reduced to once a week at the most.

Staying Healthy

2009-11-21T23:08:00.000-08:00

I'm 24 weeks, which means I have 4 months, more or less, to go in this prenatal adventure. The little guy has been kicking like crazy. Last night we went to see The Swell Season at the Paramount, and while I assumed that the little guy would kick through some of the louder songs, he seemed to really dig the violin solo that the fiddle player from The Frames did, as well as one of the quieter ballads. It was a great show, but I fell asleep through one of the songs, on Peter.

I think I've overdone it a bit. I had yoga Wednesday night, pilates on Thursday, and then another yoga class Friday before the concert. I can't make myself go to prenatal yoga yet; I just find it too slow and unchallenging. I'm sure that's going to change at some point. As it was, in regular class on Friday, I couldn't believe how solid my belly rested on my leg during pigeon pose, or how challenging moving from Warrior 2 to plank pose was. Of course, there's no cobra position at all, so I basically go through a modified upward dog to a downward dog, and modify any abdominal exercises with a kneeling boat pose, squats, or stretches.

Throughout my diabetic life, I've dealt with a series of funny (not ha ha) body immunity issues, and since getting a cold virus a few weeks ago, this cycle has returned. It may also have something to do with my return to acupuncture, since acupuncture works something powerful on me, and always seems to stir up some crap in my immune system on the way to strengthening it.

Anyway, the cycle goes something like this: As a long-term type 1 diabetic, I have a somewhat not-so-awesome immune system to begin with. This is exacerbated by pregnancy, though thus far I have had a mainly awesome and low-risk and very active pregnancy. Still, after getting sick, I went through symptoms of my typical immune system fallout, which usually consists, in no particular order, of cold sore, UTI, and yeast infection.

Luckily, this time, there was no UTI. In the past I've successfully warded them off, usually, with lots of chugging of water and unfiltered, unsweetened cranberry juice, along with horsetail (which contains silica, but is unsafe to take for pregnancy).

That's the thing: with the yeast infection, too, my typical option was eliminated. For years, I've taken boric acid for yeast infections (amazing, cheap, and effective, usually clears it up within a day). However, this is not a good remedy while pregnant, as it can, from what I understand, weaken the lining of the uterus. And I refuse to use OTC meds. So, what I found effective this time was taking all simple carbs out of my diet, eating lots of probiotics, and then rinsing the lady parts (externally) with a mixture of apple cider vinegar, tea tree oil, and water. It cleared things up within a few days.

Ah, and I did get the cold sore, too. I have it now. I would post pictures for you if it wasn't grossing me out so much. I hate getting cold sores. I feel like they overtake my face completely. Yick. Elly gave me some natural product that seems to be working well on it, and I'm trying to get lots of sleep, up my lysine, and stay healthy.

We start our prenatal classes at Birthways in a week or so, and I'm excited to look forward towards this part of the learning process. I have an eye on the labor experience, and every week nearer makes me more adamant that I do not want to be induced, and wonder how my doctors are going to react to the diabetic refusing medical interventions. I am just working hard to remain strong, active, and centered, and hope that this will help guide me through a natural birth with the little one.

One happy spot this week was a visit from a massage therapist who specializes in prenatal massage. She told me that I have excellent posture for a pregnant woman of 24 weeks, and that I am not arching my back as many women do. I totally contribute this to long walks in the hills, pilates, and yoga practice. My massage therapist, who is a tiny, sinewy, athletic woman, also told me that I am in much better shape than she was before she gave birth, and predicted for me a natural, quick, and easy labor.

I do not want to count on such predictions, but they give me a great feeling of assurance and happiness even so. And I am working hard to make sure that the rest of the pregnancy, the birth, and our life with the little guy, will be one of health, happiness, and discovery.

Baby Showers Rock (When Cool Ladies Like These Frequent Them)!

2009-11-16T16:26:00.000-08:00

This is mostly a photo post, but I wanted to simply say that I feel so honored to have so many wonderful women in my life. From my mom and auntie-in-law and mother-in-law and sister who threw this party, to the fabulous 30 or so lady friends who showed up to help craft and celebrate the arrival in February or March of the little boy, I am so lucky and blessed to have such wonderful Bay Area friends in my life. Thank you for coming and sharing the day with me!

Elly cautions Haiko to stay away from the sandos, pre-party.

Mom and Elly. Elly loves to throw parties in cute aprons (cute apron courtesy of Mom).

Mom poses with Linda, my mom-in-law, who's working on the pony head for the little boy's huge collage.

Vickie, Linda, Laurel, and Kristin on the deck.

Michele, Wendy, and Hyland craft in the baby's room. I swear it is not this bright green in person!

The horse's neck, collage in progress, thanks to many ladies' hands.

Jen and Ginger

The second crafting area.

Part of the amazing spread of food that Elly, Linda, Mom, and Vickie put together.

A beautiful day, and a beautiful view from the deck.

More crafting in the dining room.

Even the anti-crafters didn't seem to mind this project too much.

Thank you for the beautiful flowers, Grandma and Aunt Kathy!

I'm going to post after pictures of our craft project soon, either when I hang the entire piece (or, I should say, its eight pieces) up, or when I lay it out again on the floor. Till then, you'll just have to wonder at the finished product!

OMG We Went Out on a Weeknight

2009-11-13T10:02:00.000-08:00

Peter picked me up from BART on Wednesday, since, as a city employee, he had Veteran's Day off. He'd taken the pups for a 7-mile ramble, and they were nicely tuckered out for the evening.

"What are we doing tonight?" he asked.

"I was thinking that we go see Kristin's dress rehearsal for the Devil-Ettes show at Cafe Van Kleef," I said.

"And Burma Superstar for dinner!" he said, which was what my thoughts were, too. We high-fived over our gastronomical synchronicity.

And so we went out. On a weeknight. At almost 6 months pregnant. It was fun, and the food at Burma Superstar, especially the fiery beef, was super delicious. I also really enjoyed the housemade lemon mint tea. Which, as I pointed out to Peter, we can make from our backyard garden. But, as Peter pointed out, "cannot replicate the effect given our lack of a cute clear glass teapot."

From there we went to Van Kleef's and I had a delicious pint glass of club soda and fresh squeezed ruby red grapefruit juice, and we watched the ladies of the Devil-Ettes bounce and shake and boogie. Since it was such a tight fit in there, they were about six inches from us. Peter didn't mind.

Granted, we left the bar at 9:30, but still, it was a night out! On the way to the car we ran into Adam Hatch and his girlfriend, and it was a total Oakland flashback. When I first moved back to Oakland after grad school I worked for Adam's construction company while waiting to get more freelance writing jobs. That's where I also worked with Pat Spurgeon (a little bit of Oakland indie music trivia). My friend Jen used to go out with Adam at that time (2004), and we were deep in the Oakland arts and music scene, what with Kitchen Sink, LoBot gallery, throwing warehouse parties, and Mama Buzz. It was good times, and I miss them a lot. I especially miss living with Armstead, Carla, Jen, and Elly, and the three dogs, in a big Victorian in West Oakland. Those were tough, penny-pinching, awesome days, and I really cherish them.

And now, for something completely different:

I Miss Horses

2009-11-05T18:37:00.001-08:00

I've been working on a project that reflects it. You'll find more about it soon, and super soon if you're coming to the baby shower on Sunday!

In the meantime, I think about when I can ride again, and how much I love the work that rescue organizations like The Humane Society and NorCal Equine Rescue are doing. I plan on adopting a horse from NorCal when I can finally get my own pony.

Also, Pat Parelli pretty much rocks.

I Hate Being Sick

2009-10-30T15:32:00.001-07:00

So, Tuesday night I woke up at 3 in the morning or so with a raging sore throat. Blech. I hate being sick! By the morning I was hacking up gross things, congested, and experiencing a killer headache in the back of my skull, running down my neck. I was freaked out about the h1n1, but didn't think that I had it. Moreso, I was pissed that my five-months-straight of perfect health had been marred.

On Wednesday I went to a new acupuncturist, who's just down the street in Kensington, and she basically rocked my world. I'm excited to work with her through the pregnancy. She also took my bp and it was 120/76, so I think my mom was right, and I do have a bit of "white coat syndrome."

Later that afternoon I went to Kaiser, because they're ka-razy about any pregnant diabetics with flu symptoms, and insist on seeing them. They gave me a strep test, told me to watch for fever, but figured it was likely a virus. I checked my test results this afternoon and they're all normal, and my a1c, which I had done yesterday, too, is the lowest it has ever been in my diabetic life, at 6.4%!! Last time it was 6.8, which is still pretty awesome, but now it is even more incredible. Yay!
I'm also excited to make this!

Last Night I Puffed Up

2009-10-26T11:37:00.001-07:00

I think it was likely because I spent all day on my feet in these very unsupportive sandals. Which was a bad idea. Sandals for bike riding. Sandals for book browsing. Sandals for thrift shopping. Sandals for grocery shopping. Sandals for baking brownies and roasting squash and garlic.(I have been on a massive baking kick and have no control over my baking habits, though luckily, control over my eating of baked goods.)

My ankles got a bit puffy, noticeable enough for Peter to see, and I went to bed early and laid around with my feet up for a few hours. Dinner was really late for us, like 9 pm, and by that time my bloodsugar had plummeted to 44, which sucked, and made my bloodsugar a bit high this morning because I went to bed immediately after eating.

I may be going a bit overboard on the exercise? It is one of the only things that makes me feel like I am really impacting my pregnancy in a positive way. I do the other things: take my vitamins and check my bloodsugars and eat well, but the exercise really makes me feel good. So this is what we did this weekend (me and baby boy that is):

Friday night: 1 1/2 hours of Forrest yoga. Little guy kicked the hardest I've felt him kick; my hand was right on my stomach as I was resting from half-wheel, and boom! I felt him kick right over my hand! I also am excited because when I do modified Warrior 2 pose, I can finally twist my hand around to grab my thigh instead of my shirt. Progress!

Saturday: The big ol' hike of 6+ miles, as described in prior blog post.

Sunday: Biking 9 miles to and from Karen and Thaddeus's for Karen's birthday brunch. Yes, exercise was negated somewhat by delicious bacon-caramelized onion-pumpkin quiche, but dang, yum!

And today I biked to Macarthur BART and will bike back home, so that's 10 miles of biking. Hoo-ee.

I feel great though, and I don't feel like it's doing anything other than good things to the bod and the babe. My heart rate is fine, and I feel strong.

Thursday I am going to my first acupuncture appointment. I am very excited about this. It is a step in the right direction as far as my blood pressure and circulation and general health goes. And, our insurance covers 12 appointments!! YES.

(Bicycle image from Etsy seller OnlyGoodDreams.)

Lovely Day Hike

2009-10-25T08:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Peter, Haiko, Ozzie, and Zeus, a loaner dog friend, headed out to the Sunol Regional Wilderness in the East Bay for a hike. We'd opted out of backpacking this weekend in part due to the promise of brunch quiches prepared by Thaddeus and Karen (if Thaddeus and Karen ever offer to prepare food for you, you should always go; it is always a good time and great company and amazing food).

We did the Maguire Peaks loop at Sunol, which is pretty untraveled, and, with the inclusion of the last little peak scramble, is about 6.3 miles and 1500 feet of elevation. We saw two other people the entire hike, a sweet middle-aged couple who helped us to identify the scarlet gilia on the high peaks.

I dialed back my basal rate to 40% initially, since my after-lunch carb-loaded lunch (decaf iced latte, snickerdoodle, half a turkey sandwich) had given me a bloodsugar reading of 130. By the time we reached the near top of Maguire Peak, after ascending 1500 feet, my bloodsugar had plummeted to 50, which is way too low. I opted against taking any bolus insulin (food-covering insulin), and ate about 40 grams of carb (two fruit leathers and some graham crackers with peanut butter); then I dialed my basal back to 20 percent, and we headed back down the peak.

I know that my dietitian would say that this is way too little insulin for way too many carbs, but at this point I have a pretty good handle on how much energy my body burns on a hike like this (and I was proven correct when we reached the truck three miles later and my bloodsugar was a perfect 93). My breathing at elevation is getting pretty labored. I do a lot of deep, long breaths in and out of my mouth and keep a steady pace, and eventually we get there, but it's both fascinating and frustrating to see how the increase in blood in my body, as well as the baby pushing against my lung capacity, makes it more difficult to breathe.

One of the things that's fun now about hiking is that Peter has to carry almost everything. I don't think he would agree that this is fun, but he does like going on hikes (even if they are slow ones) with his pregnant wife.

Elly alerted me to a fascinating Dutch study about preeclampsia, which reminds me that the Dutch are much more progressive in their medical studies than we American are. Elly and I hung out on Friday night and went to Kristin's Forrest yoga class, which was an hour and a half of sweating and stretching and flexing. Elly had never been to one of Kristin's classes before and she was kicking herself for not going sooner. "I went from feeling terrible to joyful in about 10 minutes," she noted. It's true. I don't know what it is about Kristin, but she can put the joy back into the most overworked and miserable M.Arch student's life in mere minutes.

Getting Bigger Quicker

2009-10-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

Last night at yoga, I mentioned to Kristin, my teacher, that my stomach had increased in size a lot from the week prior. "Stand back," she said, taking a look. After a quick assessment, she concluded, "Wow! Yes it did!"

It's weird, because every morning this past week I could feel it was bigger as I got out of bed. My balance point had shifted during the night. I'm trying not to lean forward too much, and not arch my back. I'm trying to preserve my posture.

Yoga helps. A lot. Last night in class there was another pregnant lady who was about a month and a half ahead of me in her pregnancy. She was really strong and inspiring. It was also nice to have someone else there who had to do modifications as well. I took off my insulin pump in class last night, because it was 88 when I checked it beforehand. About 15 minutes into class I checked my bloodsugar and it had dropped to 44. Ugh. After a Clif bar and half a bottle of water I was back at it, and finished the rest of the hour strongly. It's amazing how much better it makes my entire body feel.

What also helps is walking around the hood. One of my new goals is to make it through the entire pregnancy and still be able to walk, without stopping, up each of the hidden staircases, including this one, Billie Jean, which is a loooooong staircase. I love walking all of the staircases and paths in this neighborhood; it's one of my favorite parts of living here.

I also need to scrounge up enough money to start acupuncture. I'm concerned a bit about preeclampsia, which diabetics are more prone to get, and want to do everything I possibly can to avoid it. Getting preeclampsia could cause bad complications with the baby, and would make it a lot harder to have a natural birth. Anyway. acupuncture has been shown to be helpful in lowering blood pressure and increasing circulation, which could help, and would be darn helpful for a diabetic pregnant like me in general.

Otherwise, things have been pretty good here. We're hoping to go on a backpacking trip this weekend, but may opt for a 6-8 mile day hike on Saturday and then biking to Karen and Thaddeus's for brunch on Sunday for exercise purposes. I have some sewing projects I should really get going on.

I'm getting excited about Mom and the twins coming out, and the upcoming baby shower. So many baby showers coming up! I'm still contemplating cribs and cradles and numerous other baby-related questions.

Oh? And the baby? He's good, I think. He's kicking a lot. It's fun to feel.

Weekend Updates

2009-10-19T16:22:00.001-07:00

This weekend we went to a puppy meet and greet organized by Pound Puppy Rescue, the rescue from which we adopted Haiko. It was so cool to meet five of his brothers and sisters, and to see them recognize each other. Seriously, the pups really did recognize each other from puppyhood, and played so well together.

It made me think a lot about genetics, and inherited traits. All of the pups have the same head cock that they do (confirmed by the other owners), they each have a tiny white tail tip, they all have the same head shape, and they all are rather submissive and sweet (Haiko the least of all of them though, he's a naughty little bossy boss). It also made me think Baby Boy Karl-Spoerl probably would like a sibling someday, too, so he can have somebody to compare and contrast his inherited weirdness with (which is what Elly and Ian and I do).

I bought this west elm Moroccan wool rug off of Craigslist this weekend. It's in perfect condition and was a lot cheaper than I could've found online (plus this particular pattern has been sold out for a while). I'm going to switch out the knobs on the bookshelf behind it, and get rid of that blue pillow, obvs. Thinking about making a little cuddle corner for baby and me and papa and pups with poufs, sheepskins, etc., and then there's the matter of a crib. I think it'll be a great room, really soothing and eclectic and odd (just like us, yay!).

I also don't like the majority of sheet choices out there for cribs, so I'm excited to think about getting some organic or vintage fabric and making my own crib sheets. This is a great tutorialthat shows you how.

Yesterday Peter and I spent at least three hours fixing up the garden. It was really hard work. The ivy had come in under one of the garden boxes, so we spent the majority of the time digging all of the soil out, separating ivy roots from the soil, laying down landscaping cloth, and then filling it back up again. We also pruned back a huge pile of ivy, planted all the containers and garden boxes, and one of the side boxes. And Peter picked up the yard of dog detritus, which was a big job in itself.

This is not what the garden looks like right now. I wish.

We planted flowers, carrots, beets, swiss chard, celery, herbs, two different lettuce mixes, and broccoli. Peter is very skeptical about the seeds actually germinating. But he shouldn't be. He should just look at my belly. Zoink!

Look Who's an Offbeat Mama

2009-10-19T11:23:00.000-07:00

Go here to read the post. Oh, and feel free to comment here, but don't feel obligated to comment too gushingly (heck, it's just little old me!) on the Offbeat Mama site. But on this here blog, heck, gush all you want.

Amnio Results Are In . . .

2009-10-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

I started to get freaked out this morning, knowing that today was the day they were supposed to call from Kaiser genetics. And if they don't call you during the day, it's their policy to call in the evening, to break the bad news when you're not at work. So, I was getting nervous by 10 am, which is really early to get nervous. But such is life with me.

And they called at noon, with good news! Baby has no indication for neural tube defects. He has 46 perfect chromosomes! He is okay! Not mutated! A perfectly normal baby. Well, as normal as he can get with me and Peter for genetic material. Which is not very normal at all.

Which means that this is probably what we can look forward to:

(T-shirt found at El Sobrante Thrift Town, as per usual.)

Getting My Fix

2009-10-12T12:51:00.001-07:00

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.

Popping and Locking

2009-10-06T07:43:00.000-07:00

I haven't told everyone at work yet about the baby,and I think that the only reason they haven't noticed is because a) I sit down a lot; b) I wear a coat into work; c) I wear a lot of empire waist dresses; and d) they probably assume I've just gotten really fat in the stomach and boobed out.

But as you can see, I've fully popped. Or, for 18 weeks, I've fully popped. I know I'm going to get a lot bigger, and at some point it will hard to grab things off the floor and get out of bed or do more difficult yoga poses.

It's weird to have the belly really showing, and to realize that there's finally obvious evidence that yes, I'm pregnant. No, it's not all in your head. My mom described the first trimester as "lots of hard work, with nothing to show for it." I was nauseous, bitchy, bone tired, and fretful during the first trimester. In the second, I'm still fretful about the results of the amnio, and the puppy jumping on my stomach (yes, this happened on Sunday, I freaked out), but moreover I am just basically calmer. And more energy-filled. And excited. And I've started rubbing my belly a lot. Because it's there.

For Michelle: My Latest Maternity Fashions

2009-10-03T19:33:00.001-07:00

Since I'm a fan of keeping my loyal few readers happy, here is a documentation of my latest maternity fashion, for Michelle D, as per her request.

Here we have a gorgeous batiked tablecloth that I discovered at a thrift shop in either the U.P. or Wisconsin in August. But I think it was in Wisconsin. It's a round tablecloth, and I knew that if I just took a middle circle cut out of it it would be the perfect burgeoning belly skirt. And isn't it sooooo pretty? It's now elasticized in the waist area, making for easy belly growth.

It also has a ton of material in it, so it is super swingy. Yay!

This morning I went to prenatal yoga, where I was surrounded by lots of pregnant ladies. It was slow. And easy. And snoozeville. So I will continue going to other yoga and pilates classes, with modifications, and save the prenatal times for the third trimester. I did like the teacher though, and maybe I'll go to meet more pregnant ladies. That's always a plus, right?

Some Not-So-Unexpected News

2009-10-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

Well, yesterday was the amnio and major big ultrasound. Peter got me off on the even wrong-er foot by asking if we could stop for coffee on the way to the appointment.

"You want to drink coffee. While they stick a gigantic needle. In my placenta." I monotoned through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, I'd like some coffee," he said, oblivious.

"YOU CANNOT DRINK COFFEE DURING MY AMNIO. THAT IS UNSANITARY. AND WAY TOO CASUAL!!" I erupted.

"Jeez, okay, fine," he huffed.

I was wound up enough about the appointment. I was not a fan of getting a needle stuck in my belly, and little babe's chill space getting un-chilled by said needle. Peter's coffee request just put me over the top. Still, the amnio only took about thirty seconds, at the most, and Dr. Maier, who I adore, did the procedure. The ultrasound technician, Connie, cooed, "You are so good," as he did it.

"I bet you say that to all the doctors," he joked.

"No, I certainly do not," she said, in complete seriousness.

I didn't watch the needle go in, though Peter did, and seemed unaffected. I did, however, watch every second of the fifteen-minute ultrasound, which explains the crick in my neck. Which is how I learned this disappointing news:

My baby girl has a penis.

I'd started to suspect that she was a he a couple of weeks ago. I confessed as much to Elly in hushed, scandalized tones, to which she replied, "Ew, gross!" Still, I really was pulling for a baby girl. Peter, apparently, was not. When the coy baby finally uncrossed his legs and showed us his junk, Peter jumped up, pumped his fist, and yelled, "Yes!"

Connie noted, "Every father does that." I was still horrified.

I'm excited though. I'm a total tomboy, and I would be freaked about having a super girly girl. And we can try for a girl, if Peter's damnable sperm decides to cooperate with the gender of my choice.

The good, good news is that every single marker looked perfect. Four chambers of the heart were pumping away and beautifully so. The brain's two lobes looked great. The organs were all on the correct sides. There were 10 fingers and 10 toes. And he wriggled around a bunch. I am so proud that our baby is growing so well!

And doesn't he have a damn handsome profile?

We get the results back in two weeks, and I am praying that everything is fine. But I assume they could see anything super bad on the ultrasound . . . and baby seems healthy enough, and is doing fine, I think, from what I feel in my body and my heart.

I am very excited and thankful that baby is doing so well.

In other news, we had a visit from Zeus.

And I am really digging dressing like a sexless round person. This "Nina Marie Pour la Mama" denim jumper is from Sears, likely 1980 or so, and was discovered at the Bessemer, MI, St. VIncent de Paul in August. I was giddy with excitement about it. Pair it with striped knee socks and a striped shirt from Moni, and I look like a total nerdface. Hot stuff!

Oh, one final note: When I called Mom and told her the news, the twins were in the car, too (my seven year old siblings, Forrest and Grace). "Elka's having a boy!" Mom yelled to them. And all chaos erupted: Forrest made the exact same noises Peter had, lots of "Yes! Yes!"ing in a deep boy voice, while behind him I heard Grace wailing. She'd just sent me a pink onesie with a fuzzy leopard rhinestone-collared kitty on it. We both wanted a girl. Grace, you should know that my friend Jen's baby Ginger will happily wear the onesie, and they are both very excited about it.

Mom emailed me this morning to report that Forrest has named the baby Chester Spoerl. I don't think we're ready to commit to Chester, but we are taking suggestions for baby boy names, since I have very few good ideas. So let's hear em!

Pants Update

2009-09-29T16:54:00.000-07:00

They are tighter today. The same pair that have been tighter and tighter each week. No wonder. My upper stomach feels like a drum. It's all hard and stuff. Like I should knock on it. Also, last night I had a dream that Mark Wahlberg and I were in love. He had driven across the country with my dad, Elly, and Cameron in a van to see me. He had herpes though, so I couldn't commit. I told Peter about this dream this morning and he seemed uninterested. Perhaps because I referred to him as Marky Mark.

Our Totally Boring, Awesome Weekend

2009-09-28T16:21:00.000-07:00

When you spend one weekend backpacking in the wilderness, the next weekend is a necessary compromise of extreme domesticity. We did a four-mile hike on Sunday morning with the pups (where my heart rate is consistently 50 bpm above Peter's on hills, yay baby and smaller lung capacity); had brunch with a Virgin Mary at T-Rex; watched a matinee of Julia and Julie or whatever it's called, and had some good couple time. Oh, and I also participated in some sweet Battlestar Galactica board game party time at Karen and Thaddeus's. I was a CYLON!! A SECRET CYLON. So was Elly. Sisters stick together.

Here are some other exciting weekend updates.

1. The moon Saturday night was unbelievably beautiful and big and moody red. This picture doesn't begin to do it justice.

2. The shower is leaking again and will now require a massive plumbing job to repair it. Neither of us is excited about this, though the amount of water the leaky shower is wasting is making me anxious. There are three different crews of plumbers coming over on Thursday and Friday to offer estimates. Fun times!

3. I went to Thrift Town and couldn't resist buying teeny tiny onesies. And overalls. Oy. I am really not sure why anyone buys new baby clothes. The advantage of buying used is that a) they're cheap; and b) any sort of nasty chemicals that were used in the process of making the cotton or dying it have long been washed away. Yes, organic is probably better, but when you're confronted with 50 cent onesies that are perfectly serviceable, I will always choose thrifted over spendy orgo stuff. Cuz you can't keep a good thrifter down.

4. I rearranged the mantel. See? I told you. BORING.

5. Wait!! It gets MORE BORING. I totally spent two hours cleaning this horrible closet out. Perhaps now its contents will not collapse on poor Ashley the dog walker when she opens the door to retrieve leashes.

6. To complete his super Gay Pride rainbow hearts collar, Haiko coordinated with a matching heart ID tag.

7. Ozzie got a haircut. Because it was easier than trying to brush out all the burrs after the Sunday morning hike. She has chubbed out after the near-death incident, and is now on a diet.

8. I received a care package from Luci and Lydia, which included a horse head hair brush (disturbing and awesome), a post-partum Party Pants pad for recovering from pooping out baby in five months, and a garter-style homemade insulin pump sleeve that fits on my thigh. It is pretty bad ass, and Luci, who is so damn smart, drew little markered hearts on the TOP of the inside of the sleeve, so I know which direction to slip it on. Thanks ladies!

Don't say I didn't warn you. BORING. But really, this weekend was pretty damn fun, too. Even Peter will agree. I mean, hell, it was no weekend in the wilderness, but it was okay for being stuck at gross old home, right P Dids?

Wearing Pants Sucks, and Other Random Thoughts From Today

2009-09-23T14:48:00.000-07:00

I am 4 months pregnant and wearing pants already sucks.

I think I'm going to make some of these out of the left over doilies from the wedding.

I really want a glass of vino verde. I miss it like the dickens. I miss drinking it with Phyllis at Kitty's in Oakland.

I'm wondering if I should just pack up all my normal clothes in boxes for now.

Peter and I watched the first episode of the first season of The Wire and he reluctantly agreed it was awesome. He doesn't like proving me right sometimes.

I think we met our doula last night. Her name is Leila and she is awesome, exactly what I need in a doula. She won me over last night when she said, "I think in their heart of hearts, a lot of doulas are committed to only doing home births and wanting to be midwives. And that's great. But that's just not me." Peter likes her because she's cheaper than other doulas. But I like her because I just felt absolutely confident and reassured in her presence. And she's good with dealing with hospitals and medical interventions. Which is what I need in my doula.

I took on an extra freelance job and didn't feel like it killed me to do it; so maybe I should do a few more.

I finally paid off my back state taxes yesterday. Damnable freelancing income and taxable income. Maybe I shouldn't do freelancing anymore.

I had my first prenatal massage yesterday at home. It was heavenly. The lady who did it was brilliant with her hands. I actually fell asleep for part of it.

I feel so bloated today from wearing pants that I want to go lay on the floor in the office. Which would not go over well.

There was some flutter in my stomach last night that wasn't like a regular stretchy pain. Can that be the baby kicking? I think it might.

I want to go backpacking again soon.

Backpacking at 4 months Pregnant

2009-09-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

. . . Is still fun, but it's a little more tiring than usual! We went on a "mild" overnighter, only 4 1/2 miles each way, and 700 feet of elevation. Still at 8000 feet of elevation, it was pretty darn hard to breathe in the first place. "I have more blood in my body to oxygenate, and not enough oxygen!" I complained to Peter at one point. But in general there was little complaining. It was beautiful up there in the Sierras, and Emigrant Lake, our destination, was nearly empty of people. We met a sweet couple and their yellow lab, and that was it for fellow campers.

It got down to about 40 degrees at night, with winds around 45 to 50 mph whipping across the granite shelf where we were camped out. Poor little Haiko shivered until Peter put a fleece vest on him. I woke up twice in the night to drink about 40 ounces of water. It was so dry, and I wasn't the only one feeling it: the pups drank an entire pot of water as well at about 3 a.m.

I have another naked picture of Peter diving into Emigrant Lake, but I am restraining myself from using it, to save my mother from further eyeball anguish. I think it's probably hard to see so many pictures of a son-in-law naked in nature.

In general, my diabetes behaved itself. I ended up dialing my basal rate down to 12% while backpacking. Dr. Maier had advised me to limit my pack's weight to 30 pounds at the most, so I enjoyed a relatively light pack.
Still, I was dang tired. Also, it's getting harder to figure out where to situate my waist strap, given my belly and the infusion set for my insulin pump on said belly.

I would definitely recommend a "mild" backpacking trip for fellow pregnant ladies, at least at this point in my second trimester. There's some talk about some hut-to-hut snowshoeing or skiing, but we may have to see how I feel at that point in December . . . .

Another Day, Another Doctor's Appointment

2009-09-18T09:29:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I had another doctor’s appointment with Dr. Maier and Sharon Palmer, my pump specialist/baby nurse. They were displeased with my morning bloodsugar levels (which are usually in the 150s, which is a vast improvement over my pre-pump morning bloodsugars, but still too high). They wanted to up my basal rate again, and I balked at this. I eat too many carbs at night. That’s the issue. I got them to reluctantly agree to let me try my new less-carby night-time routine, email in bloodsugars, and then see what happens. Victory!

This is Dr. Maier. It’s a good thing that I like him, because I don’t have a lot of choice when it comes to perinatologists at Kaiser Walnut Creek. As I’ve noted here before, he has a very calming, confident, been-there, done-that presence which I find essential in a medical professional who is responsible for overseeing my own and my baby’s health. I made a joke yesterday about keeping the baby in a dog crate once it was born, since the puppy would’ve outgrown it by then, which I think he found humorous, but who knows, maybe I will soon be reported, prenatally, to Child Protective Services.

There’s some major stress happening in our life right now surrounding something minor that may turn into something major, legally, and it’s making me a little crazy. This, combined with constant money issues and the general hectic nature of life, combined with the constant monitoring of my diabetes, the doctor’s appointments, etc., is making my life a little damn hard.

The doctor’s appointments themselves take up a hell of a lot of time; it takes about 35 minutes to get there, then often it is an hour wait for Dr. Maier, and then it is about an hour to get into work in San Francisco, which means that there is about 3 hours, at a minimum of my day taken up, every couple weeks, with doctors appointments. It’s affecting work somewhat (I have to work at night now), and also my ability to feel, well, refreshed, rested, centered. I guess I just need a little more help right now, but you can only ask for help so many times before you start to feel like a nag and a bitch.

Last night Marlene and Lyne (grandcousin-in-law and step-mom-in-law) stayed over on their road trip down to LA. We went out to Fonda, a Mexican tapas restaurant, and enjoyed the warm evening on the patio, eating plantains and black beans and duck tacos and a beet grapefruit salad.

My bloodsugar, when I went to bed, was 97, and I had a feeling (as I did the night prior) that it was going to drop more, so I reduced my basal rate to 80%. Still, I woke up with a bloodsugar of 48 this morning. So this proves my point to the doctors: my basal rate is fine (perhaps a little too high) as long as I don’t overdo the carbs at night.

Oh, and this was my bloodsugar with a night-time snack of grapes, too. I guess that my dietician would say that I should’ve eaten some raw cashews, too, with my grape snack. So I’m not perfect, by any means. But I’m trying to get a little better.

We Painted.

2009-09-13T16:36:00.000-07:00

We used no-VOC Kelly Moore paint and Home Depot no-VOC primer. The color is Green Apple Peel. Peter hates painting but was a sport. This will be the baby's room, if s/he gets here safe and sound and healthy and everything goes a-okay. I have a really exciting/fun baby art project I'm going to do involving tiny metal whale statues and big black wooden frames and painting of scenery. You may see it on here sooner than later!

We listened to a bunch of podcasts: To the Best of Our Knowledge (2 1/2 episodes); Savage Love (1 episode, our tenants came in the door right when a rather embarrassing question was asked on the podcast involving prosthetic wieners); Wait Wait Don't Tell Me! (1 episode); This American Life (1 episode). So, that means we painted for about 5 hours start to finish both days. Not bad at all!

Not much else was accomplished this weekend. We told the nice brothers who own 900 Grayson that I was pregnant, because at almost 15 weeks it's now safe to spill the beans, I think. And they said, excitedly, "We thought so! We just didn't want to jinx anything." They are so cute. I adore their place.

We also met with Ozzie and Haiko's new dog walker. Her name is Ashley and she's super nice. Her puppy just died this week after eating something and getting really sick. Her puppy was at the ER vet, got blood plasma transfusions, and had brain issues (swelling, I think), and finally died. Poor Ashley. Poor puppy. She seemed really bummed. I think that they will all have a good time together, though, and I like that she goes to a variety of spots for the pups' enjoyment.

Speaking of enjoyment, here is Haiko not enjoying his banishment to the deck after getting a bath.

Some Things I've Been Obsessing About

2009-09-11T22:36:00.000-07:00

As Peter can attest, I've mostly been obsessing over cloth diapers. Diaper service vs. buying and washing your own, if our washing machine will deal with all of the diapers, inserts vs. normal diapers, gdiapers for travel, etc.

So here's a list. I guess partially it's easier to think about diapering and whatnot instead of being freaked out about amnio tests and results. We'll know everything in a month, and hopefully all fears will be assauged. In the meantime, here are some things that have been keeping my mind distracted and happy.

1. Wool soaker pads, like this one on Etsy for $8.

2. Woodworker Laura Rittenhouse's beautiful Silver Moon Crib.

3. Baby sign language! My cousin Hilde taught her son Graham how to sign and it was amazing to see him talk in full sentences this Summer, thanks to a combination of words and signs.

4. Gorgeous, design-forward, comforting, comfortable nurseries, like this room put together by Texas Hill Country mama Jade.

5. gDiapers, great for traveling, and now there's a cloth, instead of disposable (compostable, biodegradable), insert.

The Body

2009-09-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

I have a few observations about body changes for your reading pleasure. For your viewing pleasure, I have Peter's booty. My husband is so intent on capturing his nakedness in the wilderness that he has even ventured into video form (a pleasure you can experience upon reading this post in its entirety, lucky, lucky you).

1. My friend Chris asked me to talk more about my boobs on the blog, so here is some super sexy boob information. My nipples are so dry right now. Like I have nipple dandruff. They are flaky and white even with maximum lotion coverage.
2. Also, I am incredibly itchy on my breastbone and ribcage. I have to restrain myself from itching at night.
3. In addition to this fun stuff, I also seem to be developing more skin tags. They run on the Karl side of the family, so it's not like it's unexpected. I wonder if the pregnancy hormones are exacerbating their development.
4. I already have bleeding gums. Yay! Many pregnant women get bleeding gums, due to the increase in blood. Let's just say flossing sucks, and I am not looking forward to the needed dental cleaning coming up soon.
5. I spotted a stretch mark on my belly. Time to make more salve, or to bring in the big guns and get some of the organic mommy belly oil. My sister said that her friends used this other stuff, and when I looked it up it was so full of carcinogenic crap I couldn't believe any mom-to-be in her right mind would rub that shit right over where her baby was resting.
6. I don't get so desperately hungry as I did earlier, though I did eat two helpings of delicious taco salad last night. I am a beast when it comes to delicious taco salad! A beast I tell you!
7. I need to do a lot more hip openers. I'm doing more in pilates with Kristin, and I did some this morning while getting my face attacked by the puppy. It's only going to help in the future.
8. Peter needs to rub my feet and back more. This is imperative.
9. Trying to wear my favorite pair of jeans (well, the favorite pair that still fits me) is depressing and uncomfortable, and becoming increasingly difficult with each week. Also, they're really long as is, so when they fall down below my pokey-outy belly, they kind of drag on the ground.
10. I am kind of blissfully happy right now, in a very even keel way. I still have anxiety and worries and still sometimes blow up, but in general I'm all kind of barfingly chill and happy.

Peter would want you to know that this picture was taken before he lost his full 30 pounds. He thinks it is fat assy looking, but that didn't prevent him from refusing to pull it off the internets, so I say, fair game.

Updates

2009-09-10T15:13:00.001-07:00

Hello friends! Check out my belly! Get in mah belly! That is what Cameron and I said to each other when I went to prenatal pilates this morning. Then I did some pilates. This is my pilates outfit. It really shows how belly-licious I am right now. Of course, my belly's going to get much, much bigger. You can see my infusion set on the left side of the picture, on my belly. I used to think it was so gross, but now, I don't care. I really don't care about as much silly stuff anymore. I guess this is a side benefit of being knocked up and super high risk?

I had a genetics counseling session on Tuesday. Peter was still in Seattle and I was the only pregnant lady sans partner at the session, which depressed me and annoyed me. It's really not fun to sit there and listen to an hour-long PowerPoint presentation on chromosomal abnormalities and how messed up your little baby can be, especially when you are by yourself. I'm getting an amnio on my sister's birthday, October 1st, and Dr. Maier is doing it, which makes me feel much more comfortable than some rando doing it. Still, it is not something I look forward to. I look forward to (God willing) getting normal, healthy results back 10 days later, and not miscarrying. I know lots of my friends have done this test and it's been fine, but I still worry. Diabetics have more neural tube defects, as I've mentioned before, so it is really good to do this test. I think my test results put me outside of the statistical rates for more careless diabetics, but I still will feel better once I know that babe is a-okay.

We went to see Ginger Crash Kennedy Loy last night. She is two weeks old and cute as a button. She held my pinky finger as she slept and Jen and Ross horrified Peter with vibrant stories about placentas. Fun! Has anyone else out there done placenta encapsulation? Maybe I only think that it's weird because I've only recently learned about it? I mean, it's not as weird as eating placentas, which I *do* think is way too hippie and weird for me and would not eat it. An old hippie friend of mine ate it with her grody sperm giver, and I haven't been able to separate their grodiness from this practice.

In other news, we are interviewing doulas next week! I'm really excited about meeting doulas! Yay!

The Girls Just Keep Getting Bigger

2009-09-03T21:56:00.000-07:00

Thank god for Jenny, who saved my boobies from wearing stretched out, ugly bras. We had lunch today, and afterwards she took me back to her house to fit me for several really nice bras that were now too big for her. I've already gone up a cup size, which is not very exciting to me at all. I know that Jen was excited about this aspect of pregnancy, but not me! I guess that if I were an A or B cup I'd likely be happy to go up a bit, but as it is I'm starting as a D cup. So I am more concerned about turning into some sort of circus side show freak lady.

Step right up! See the woman with the massive boobies! Bigger than her head!

Please, please boobies, stay kind of normal sized. I know I can't ask for small. But please.

So, Jenny works part-time at A La Folie, a lingerie shop where I once spent $400 when trying to impress P Ta Mon. This means that Jenny has lots of very nice bras, Wachaols and Prima Donnas, to share with her chest-expanding pal. Jenny recently lost a bunch of weight, which explains her bra loss. She seemed equally parts excited and sad when her bras fit me. She's glad they're going to a new home, but you can tell she was sad to say goodbye to her awesome bra friends. Dear Jenny, I hope you get some solace from knowing that I, and P Ta Mon, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

In other non-boob-related news, I really like the new Dwell shower curtain.

I really like this tattoo.

2009-09-02T16:56:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to get my first tattoo, on my upper arm, did (as in, get my hair did, but this time, get my tattoo did), for some time. And Ross would be my go-to guy (he's the tattooed daddy of Ginger Crash Kennedy Loy), since he did my awesome back tattoos, and I trust him. I guess I'm not that into sailing the high seas, so maybe this tattoo isn't quite appropriate, though I do like the idea of steering my own life. And I've been wanting a good cover-up, and this seems like a good compromise. Perhaps, when baby is all out and healthy, this will be my gift to myself? A new, bigger tattoo?

Peter did say no more tattoos, please, but I think that covering one up doesn't count as a new one.

(Image by James Merrell)

Yesterday's Doctor Appointment

2009-09-01T13:06:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my first post-12-weeks doctor's appointment. I am officially in my second trimester. Yay! Dr. Maier has his diabetes clinics on Monday mornings, which basically means that he runs crazy late and is super busy and there were some obese, unhealthy-looking pregnant women running around. Not to generalize about diabetics. Seriously though, it makes me happy that I am in pilates, and take so many power walks with the pups, to know that I'm doing good things for my baby and my body, too. After this pregnancy I am going to work really hard to get in super good shape, even with two dogs and a baby in tow. There was one very pretty, in-shape, 11-weeks-along lady in the waiting room who I chatted with. She's been a Type 1 for a year, and her carb grams-to-insulin ratio is already crazy low, half of what mine is. I can't imagine how sucky it will get if my carb grams go down more. Eating is hard enough right now as it is.

After waiting for an hour, reading some excellent New Yorker articles, I saw Kim, who downloaded all of my pump results. My bloodsugars have been a little wonky thanks to the Wisconsin trip and my recent craving for watermelon. Again, it's just getting increasingly difficult to tell when my bloodsugars go low. The other day while walking the pups my bloodsugar went down to 36(!!). I had 1 cookie in the car, but it was hella hard to make it back home. By the time I got home I was so low that I ate three more cookies and a glass of milk, and then was so exhausted I fell asleep, which did nothing to help me stabilize, and instead spiked my sugars.

So, in general things went well. I brought Kim, Sharon, and Dr. Maier plum jam that I canned from our Italian prune plum tree. Not that I'm trying to bribe them. In general they probably just think that I gorge myself on home canned sugary goods. Which isn't quite true. I do like Dad's maple syrup, but compared to most people, I hardly use any.

Ugh, this is getting off track. My appointment! No ultrasound, but I got to listen to the baby's heartbeat again. Dr. Maier poked me on my increasingly rounding and firm belly and said, "Yep, you're pregnant." I fond this rather endearing, but I can't really explain why. I hate it when people touch my stomach, likely because for so long it had bruises on it from needles, and now it has an infusion set stuck on it. But I'm getting used to people touching it now, and even kind of liking it, if it's one of my pals who's doing it.

The good news is that my test results still seem good, and that I've only gained four pounds in the first trimester, which is right on track. All of my weight seems to have gone to my boobs and my belly, which I guess makes sense, but doesn't make me feel very attractive. Just wait! Ha ha. Oy.

I need to make an appointment to talk to the genetic counselor about an amnio, something that I'm only feeling more anxious about thanks to an obsessive hour-long reading of amnio threads on Berkeley Parents' Network. Stupid, stupid move. I think reading pregnancy-related threads online is an absolutely bad idea. Still, I got sucked in. I guess that given my feelings about wanting a healthy baby, I really should absolutely have an amnio. Still, I don't like the idea of a needle disturbing my little babe's nest. I know it's a very quick procedure, miscarriage rates are incredibly low, and that it will in all likelihood be fine. And many of my friends have been very happy with their amnios. Still, it's something that is rustling around in my brain, perhaps too much.

In other news, before graduating from puppy class last night the puppy pooped on the middle of the classroom floor. Also, he dragged this log in through the back door. Which helps with stress relief.

Today I am 12 Weeks!

2009-08-28T07:51:00.001-07:00

I am out of the Highway to the Danger Zone/Kenny Loggins-type area of the pregnancy! Wheeee! I mean, things might still turn into all-out fuckery and badness, but still, this is a good milestone! Yay for baby and yay for me and Peter!

Yesterday at prenatal pilates Kristin said, "You've popped!" Peter has also noted this, when, upon checking me for leeches after swimming in Wisconsin, he said, "You look pregnant." Basically, this means I have a potbelly. Also, my boobs are big. Jenny has kindly offered me some bras in a bigger cup size and I am really needing them. Only two of my bras currently fit me, and I've been resorting to the Patagonia mono-boob sports top (I love them, but they are not so hot, sigh). I've already collected two bags of clothes that are too tight for my chest or my potbelly protrusion. They need to go in the garage until after baby is here, and then *hopefully*, with breastfeeding and exercise, I can fit back into them, and maybe even better. Mom told me not to count on breastfeeding making my boobs shrink, but it is a fever wish of mine. Smaller boobs, please!

I've discovered that two lovely friends are about 5 1/2 months on, and two other friends are about where I am in the process. Yay for baby-making friends! I also, sadly, found out recently that two friends-of-friends miscarried in the first seven weeks or so. As I've noted, I am kind of crazily afraid of miscarrying. But what will be will be, and I am going to carry on positively through this and hope for the best.

I had to call Medtronic today to harass them about sending my infusion sets for my insulin pump. I am down to two and that is getting skeerily low. They will be here on Monday. I will probably also have to rearrange the scheduling of pump sets when I have to start changing out sets every one to two days, as my doctor and care team recommend.

Wisconsin Vacay

2009-08-24T16:14:00.000-07:00

I just got back from 10 days in my homeland, and I have a few observations to make, I suppose about the trip and being in my first trimester and traveling and whatnot.
*Grace, my little sis, is great at yoga, and has amazing concentration and attention span. I love her to pieces.
* It is hard to take naps when you're staying at 5 different places over 9 nights. When I got the chance to take a nap one afternoon, I napped for four hours. Oy.
*Exercise is often a good substitute for naps. Though at one point I was in such a sleepy haze that I felt as if walking around Bayfield was going to destroy me. Ha ha. I was so tired I didn't even go to friend Kent's t-shirt shop to check out his fabulous '80s Keith Haring-esque style makeover (as described by Phyllis) thanks to his cradlerobber-aged boyfriend. That really means I'm tired.
*It's hard to be a diabetic, and plan for insulin pump random weirdness (two reservoirs were effed up and wouldn't work, ugh!) and still try to be a balanced pregnant lady.
*If you're low on insulin pump supplies, and cry in front of the Southwest gate, and tell them you are pregnant and a type 1 diabetic running out of supplies, they will buy you a ticket on another flight. Even if that flight takes 13 hours to get to San Francisco. Which is better than waiting another 24 hours to get home.

So, another thing I noted was that I want to try really hard, when we are lucky enough (if we are lucky enough) to be gifted with a healthy wee one, to be a United Parenting Team. I just realized that the good cop/bad cop routine is utterly ineffectual, and that we both need to be both lenient and disciplinary, but as a Borg-like entity. I also realized, again, how important it is to practice positive reinforcement. And to not say "sucks" in front of seven-year-old siblings. I've cut out the fucks, shits, etc., but the "sucks" and "craps" still pop out.

It's also really great to have a mom who's a prenatal nurse. She's basically on speed dial to answer any and all questions concerning number of times you pee in the day (uterus is pushing on bladder right now, apparently, but will lift soon and relieve the peeing needs temporarily), good baby name choices, pitocin concerns, natural births after being induced, etc. So, thanks Mom!

As Promised, Ultrasound Pictures

2009-08-11T09:39:00.000-07:00

So, here they are. I have labeled them with appropriate body parts. The 8 weeks one is super clear because it was a Doppler one (I think) that Nurse Ginsberg (who I love, she is funny and crass and cool) took. The amazing thing about this was that I could hear the baby's heartbeat! It made me tear up, and you all know that I am not very sentimental.

And here's the second one, taken yesterday. This one was taken with the regular ultrasound, which means a wand on my belly, instead of going up the vag, which I am thankful for (which is how they did the first one). But also, that's why it looks so blurry. Just in case you are wondering, an unacceptable response to the presentation of this photo is, "So, we're having a pile of crap?" Not that anyone said that. Ahem.

What's crazy is that I could already see the leg and arm buds a lot more developed than they were a week and a half ago. The little wriggler is growing soooo fast! And she wriggled all over while Dr. Maier had the ultrasound on my belly, which was awesome cool. Sharon, the prenatal diabetes nurse/counselor, who I think is almost as baby crazy as my prenatal nurse mom, cooed and clucked and said, "Isn't that AMAZING!!!!" Yes, it was pretty darn cool. Things seem to be progressing well. Let's just all cross our fingers and say our prayers that we get through the first trimester healthfully.

The baby is now about an inch long!

As for me, I feel more energetic than a few weeks ago, and not as nauseous. Either that, or I am just getting very used to feeling this tired/nauseous. I can't really tell right now which it is. What's interesting is that when I get hungry, I get ravenously hungry immediately and feel all crampy in the stomach and nauseous. I've never had such acute hunger pangs before. Other than that, so far I love my care team, and I love being active right now; it's helping a lot with my bloodsugars, energy levels, and mood in general.

This morning the bastard pups and I took a hike at the bulb for 45 minutes or so at 7 am, and played in the surf. Or at least Ozzie and I did. Haiko was afraid to go in. That's my life right now: pregnancy, dogs, fantasizing about the perfect chicken salad sandwich, and wishing I had the energy to sew up all the damn fabric on my ironing board. Pretty mundane, but it feels right.

2nd Doctor's Appointment

2009-08-10T15:16:00.000-07:00

Today I had my official second appointment with Dr. Maier, my perinatologist, who, to review, is basically an ob/gyn who works with mommies and babies who have some sort of loser complication or deficiency. In my case it is a) being 35 and b) being a 20-year type 1 diabetic. I am tired of thinking about all of the shit-ass complications that diabetic mommies have, not to mention their gestating wormies (as Elly would say) or wombies (as Magnolia would say), so I am practicing something that doesn't come very naturally to me, the Lutheran-rooted Midwesterner Berkeley transplant: optimism. I try to do as much as I can and think nice thoughts and get on with my life. Lately the nice thought has been "Baby, baby, baby, baby," which will not stop repeating itself in my head. It's like this obsessive stupid mantra. Imagine it being said by a benign Sendak-like monster on the hunt for a chicken salad sandwich, and that is about how it sounds in my head.

Anyway. Second appointment in WC today with Maier, Sharon, the pump specialist who works with diabetic moms, and Kimmy (I think that's her name), who is a dietician. They hrmed and hawed over my logbook and basal and bolus rates and ultimately upped by basal rates by .2 units/hour and reduced by carb/insulin ratio. We shall see. It is so horrible to sit there without any pants on while they go over my books and dicker with my insulin pump. They're very sweet, but it's unnerving. I've always been a bad test taker and this pregnancy feels a lot like a 9-month-long test; at least it does when I'm in the doctor's office.

Then I got to have my first ultrasound, and the wee babe is 9 1/2 weeks right now, about an inch long, and has little visible arm and leg buds. And, I got to see it move. The little wriggler moved and stretched and flexed and that was sure exciting.

I really like Dr. Maier. He has this kind of zen-like office presence; he's a man of few words but he makes me feel calm and taken care of, which is much preferable to chatted up and annoyed. My next appointment is 3 weeks from now. I will be officially at 12 weeks (blessings be, god willing) by then, so hopefully things will all be progressing perfectly and I will still be feeling as good as I do now.

Lots of exercise this past week, too, including my prenatal pilates class with Kristin (she's kicking my ass with a vengeance, and I love it) and several Tilden hikes with the dogs, as well as the normal hill walking and neighborhood strolls with the pups, which, thanks to the staircases, always gets my heart pumping. I need to start a yoga class and add a stretching routine into the morning hours. It's hard to do so, though, without getting mauled by the puppy.

Some Time to Reflect

2009-08-03T21:35:00.000-07:00

So, many many things have happened, mostly though it has been days and weeks of feeling cranky, nauseous, bloated, and dog tired. I've told some people, including my father (pictured here), who didn't let me tell him, but instead told me that I was having a little girl. I only mention this because my father is a little bit psychic, as he also dreamed that my cousin Hilde had a baby boy before he was told she was pregnant. And now Hilde has Graham, so . . . I guess more than anything, in these first 12 weeks, while I try not to worry about miscarriage and complications, I can take comfort in my father's psychic-baby-babble.

Mostly, I've been terrified about the Type 1 Diabetic pregnancy thing. Every time my bloodsugar goes up or down, I freak out a little about the baby, whether this bloodsugar wackness is affecting its growth, heartbeat, well being. I spent four hours on Friday at various Kaiser specialists, and it was all very good news. I have the first ultrasound photo, which I'll post soon, and got to hear the baby's heartbeat, which was freaking fantastic. And I also got tons of good news about my Super High Risk Pregnancy. Basically: I'm not so high risk. Why? Because my disease is pretty much under control, and my body is pretty dang healthy.

What does it all mean? A breakdown:

*I am, as of today, 8 weeks 3 days pregnant.
*Thanks to my peeing in a bottle, Kaiser pharm has determined I have A plus kidney function. This is awesome.
*My A1c is 6.8. If you have an a1c of under 7, Kaiser considers you to be only slightly higher risk than the normal population. I've read studies showing that if your A1c is under 6.9, you basically have a normal pregnancy. I'm hoping to get my a1c down even further, hopefully into the 5s, by the end of the pregnancy. (An A1c of 6.0 or less is considered normal for a non-diabetic, according to The Joslin Diabetes Center.)
*I tested negative for cystic fibrosis, HIV, various STDs, Hep something or other . . . basically, all my test results were rocking.
*Dr Maier, the perinatologist (high risk ob/gyn)is pretty great, thus far. He asked me, after checking his notes (we had a pre-consult back in December when he tried to Scare The Crap Out of Me) if I was taking extra folic acid, as my mother suggested. "I always try to do what my mother suggests," I replied. He smiled and replied, "Me too."
*My body is responding like crazy to exercise now. A brisk walk with Oz will drop my bloodsugar by like 80 points! That is nutso. I'm being more careful about taking less insulin when I exercise.
*I'm taking prenatal pilates with Kristin Goldsmith, aka KikiBomb, aka the most awesome sunshine presence in the world. It's great preparation for everything, and is helping me to remain patient and breathe through the pain (I absolutely hate the "frogs," and yes, Kristin, my inner thighs are the weakest part of my legs.)
*I'm pretty sure we're going to do an amnio. There are cardiac and neural tube defect issues for diabetic babies, and I want to make sure that we don't have a Down's baby as well. We're just hoping and praying and working towards having a healthy, beautiful baby.
*I really hope it's a girl. I have the best name for her.

So . . . .

2009-07-08T15:03:00.000-07:00

Peter was away on a backpacking trip all weekend. When I peed on the stick on the Fourth of July (in between watching Murphy's Romance, perhaps it is a secret dream of mine to date James Garner?), Peter was far off in the mountains somewhere, diving into glacial lakes and getting really smelly. I didn't even know what the pee stick lines meant, because I'd thrown away the box and directions, so I had to go down the hill to the Long's, which was almost closed up for fireworking, and get another test. I peed on the second stick and yep, it was the same result, and it seemed to mean I was with child. (Or, with Wormy, Elly has nicknamed it Wormy.)

It is way, way early days, and I am trying not to get ahead of myself, and trying to keep on the down low with it. I am just generally trying to be super casual. That's hard though as a diabetic pregnant lady. I'm testing my bloodsugar 10 times a day now (and will probably soon go on a CGM (continuous glucose monitor). I have put myself on a self-inflicted high-protein low-carb diet and am suffering caffeine withdrawal (from only 1 to 2 cups a day, oy). I gave away the red wine to Tom and Chelsea, to whom I also spilled the beans.

Anyway, when I finally told Pee Dizzles he was all jumpy giant sprite troll man excited, but I was already sleepy and grumpy and he smelled really bad from his trek in the woods. I kind of said something to the effect of, yes yes, let's not get too excited, little Wormy may wiggle away, gotta get through the next two months or so and then we'll cross our fingers and hope for the best. His excitement, however, could not be contained. He is way more excited about parenthood than I am, and I think it may have something to do with his general household role in general: court jester, occasional dishwasher, late-night meeting-goer. Seriously though, he helps a lot, but if I'm going to be absolutely realistic I know that it will fall on my shoulders more than his, this little Wormy-kins, both when it's in my belly and out of it.

He has very few questions thus far. This was his first. This morning.

"So . . . can we still have sex, when you're pregnant?"

"Yes, Peter. We can still have sex."

"Like in Knocked Up!"

"Yes, Peter, this entire pregnancy will be just like Knocked Up."

"Boobies."

He didn't actually say that last part, but if he were speaking with absolutely no filter, instead of the 1 percent filter he currently employs, he would have.

2009-07-07T12:42:00.000-07:00

So, yeah, funny story.

I'm apparently pregnant.

Wheeeeeee!