I’m told thats normal, but I don’t like it.
Yesterday at my OB apt my doctor and I decided that I should monitor my blood sugar because I’ve had some wonky test results. I was already limiting my sugar for that reason, but I still ended up with some strange results.
This morning my fasting level was much higher than it should have been. An hour after breakfast it was much higher than it should have been.
So then my mind started racing. I started telling myself that I need to prepare myself for the fact that my labor isn’t going to be the way I want it. That I’m just going to have to face the fact that I’m going to need an IV. And then I started thinking about how much pain my hand is already in and that it just doesn’t seem right that on one of the most beautiful days of my life I’m going to have to worry about my stupid hand when I know there is plenty of other pain to worry about. And then I started thinking about how important it is to relax during contractions and thinking that there is no way I’m going to be able to relax at all. And that got me started thinking about the possibility of needing a c-section.
I was spiraling.
To be honest with you, I’m still spiraling.
Luckily, at this point I was the only one in the office and I was able to sit in the bathroom for a minute for a good cry, then text my mom and tell her I was frustrated, and then wash my face and get back to work.
I was able to hold it in when people asked me about whether or not I’ve found a place to live once Evelyn is born (the answer is still no).
I was able to hold it in when someone brought in cupcakes which would not have looked delicious to me except I knew they were forbidden.
I was able to hold it in even though I was sooo hungry but afraid to eat anything.
Then one of the doctors I work for wanted to talk to me about my hand. He felt that I hadn’t used up my options and that my doctor wasn’t working hard enough to find a solution. He had me try on a different type of brace and asked me to try working with it on for awhile and tell him how it went.
That’s when I lost it.
I didn’t have any hope in the new brace. I was frustrated that my hand pain had caused me to not be able to do my job to the best of my ability. I was attracting unwanted attention from my co-workers. Every few minutes I was being asked if the brace was helping, and it wasn’t. In fact, it was doing just what the others had done- caused my fingers to hurt more.
And so, with half the people I work with standing by my desk, I started to cry. And they all told me that it was just the pregnancy hormones and that God loves me and that I’m in the home stretch and Evelyn will be here soon. But I needed them to not talk to me about those things. I didn’t want to cry in front of them and my emotions were too close to the surface for them to be able to say anything that would make me stop.
Thats when I took another, longer, bathroom break.
I kept wearing the brace for an hour because I didn’t want my employers to think I was giving up easily and because I was being watched and didn’t want to be asked about it. I wanted to go home, but something in me needed to hold out and last just that much longer.
So I told the doctor his brace hurt my hand, he took it back and told me that next time I’m pregnant I need to gain less weight and that between pregnancies I need to work really hard to lose a lot of weight.
And you know what? That didn’t make me feel better.
But taking off the brace felt better, leaving work immediately after that felt better, and having an outlet to write this down feels better.
While these last 6 weeks are going to be really hard, I know that I couldn’t have a better reward for enduring them.
And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Its official, today I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. It could be worse, and I’m dealing with things much better than I was yesterday, but it still really stinks.
Read Full Post »