The Sugar

I found out early last week that I have "the sugar" --- also known as diabetes. Sometimes just referred to as "having sugar." Family history and a childish love for Pop-Tarts caught up to me, and I developed gestational diabetes. The good news is that it goes away with the placenta, which is what's blocking my body's effective use of insulin. The bad news is that I'm a milk-and-cookies kind of gal and along with smoking, sushi, red wine, and various other vices, I'm now off the sweets too. And I have to test my blood sugar 4 times a day.

However, the difference with having to change my diet now is that I felt miserable. No sooner did the aggravated back injury start to mend did I fall into a sugar stupor. I knew for a couple weeks before the diagnosis that I was diabetic. My thirst was insatiable, and a butterscotch-chip muffin during a morning meeting literally had me hallucinating. I was tired all the time, peeing all the time, and simply out of sorts.

Now, I feel better. Cheating last night and eating both Pop-Tarts and a huge glass of milk caused me to sleep poorly last night, have a hard time waking up this morning, and have a too-high fasting blood sugar reading of 109 when I woke up. Despite my sweet tooth, it's just not worth it.

Beyond even how I feel is the impact on Annika. High levels of glucose in my blood cause high levels in hers, but she can't benefit from my insulin and has to make her own. All that extra insulin is like a growth hormone for the fetus in utero, and she can pack on even more weight than she's already going to in these final weeks.

And honestly, that was the hardest part of finding out about the diabetes. I know I'm going to be fine, but I felt this tremendous guilt about not having eaten better, and having potentially put her at risk. I barely held it together that first day at work before coming home and crying bitterly, and I couldn't talk about the baby for a couple days without choking right up. With everything that's gone on this year, I seriously felt like I couldn't handle one more thing. But it had to be managed, and managing the condition is making a difference for both of us.