gestational diabetes

17 weeks.

I’m beginning to realize that what is intended to be a story about post-HELLP pregnancy may very well end up mostly being a story about pregnancy with gestational diabetes. I guess if I help somebody along the way, it’ll be worth it.

I went to my OB earlier this week, and was told that since I’ve been unable to control my fasting blood sugars I would have to begin medication. She gave me a choice between injections and a pill. I chose the pill, because, let’s be real here: needles are awful. I endure enough pain as it is checking my blood sugars four times a day, and I really don’t want to add to that! So, she prescribed Glyburide for me. I took it for the first time last night, and my fasting blood sugar this morning was not improved. At all. In fact, it’s exactly the same that it’s been all week. We’re not talking scary, I’m-gonna-die-in-a-diabetic-coma blood sugar, so don’t get all worked up. But just knowing that my body isn’t working the way it should, and despite my best efforts (working out, eating healthy, controlled portions) isn’t coming around at all, is extremely scary and frustrating.

And come on, let’s face it: Thanksgiving is this week! All I really want to do is eat stuffing and drink eggnog! Facing the truth that I can’t eat my weight in pie in a few days is devastating. Honestly, I’m tearing up at the thought.

I’ve never been particularly athletic, but I haven’t lived a sedentary life, either. I did theater for most of my life, which may not be as intense as training for the Olympics, but is fairly physically demanding. Up until a few months ago I always worked jobs that required me to be on my feet and briskly walking around all day. I love pie, eggnog, stuffing, and the occasional Big Mac, but I also love to snack on apples, carrots and peanut butter, and I drink so much water that I pee clear all day. I’m tall and slender and everyone who first meets me assumes that I’m a dancer or a runner or some sort of athlete and while it’s true that I’m not, I’m not unhealthy.

It doesn’t seem logical or fair that this should happen to me. So many women are overweight, sedentary, terrible eaters, soda drinkers, and so on. And yet so many of them go on to have completely “normal,” healthy pregnancies. Why me?

And then I slowly pull myself out of my pity-party. I remind myself that bad things happen to good people. God uses all situations for good. And while it’s easy to judge and think “life isn’t fair,” that’s the exact opposite of what is useful, good, and right.

…Right?