Tuesday, January 14, 2014

GD Diaries Part 12: Sometimes (a lot of times) I cheat.

This post is part of a series on Gestational Diabetes. The posts were written in August - October, but are just now being published. While I was too upset and conflicted about this situation when I was first dealing with it, I want to share my experiences with other moms that may go through something similar. Check back for another installment every Tuesday! You can catch up here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

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As I'm writing this, I'm into my 37th week - full term, baby! Because of my scheduled c-section, I have less than two weeks of this pregnancy to go - the end is in sight!

Of course I am most looking forward to the new addition to our family, but the end of this pregnancy is also very welcome. And this also means that in a matter of weeks, GD will no longer be a part of my life - YAY!

But I do have a confession.

I went into this whole diagnoses with fear, anger, disappointment, sadness, and frustration - all of which had me reluctantly trying my hardest to avoid it getting worse and proving to the doctors that I really wasn't that bad. I succeeded - as they've all been impressed with me, and after 2 months of being very diligent, I was turning in perfect numbers, showing little to no weight gain, and baby was still growing and developing perfectly (and at exactly the same rate/size as his older brothers). I was very hard on myself through all of it - being overly strict, stressing about people finding out, and feeling really sad about missing out on all of the fall treats surrounding me. Matt convinced me that with numbers as good as mine and months of giving my body a HUGE break, I deserved to indulge in something once a week. We would kind of skillfully plan when I'd have said treat (it was usually on the weekend, either a Friday or Saturday night depending on which one of them I didn't have to test since I only had to do every other meal at this point). It was a great system, and I started to feel a little less deprived without doing myself any really damage.

But then.....well.

Have you ever been 9 months pregnant? Let me tell you what happens - it never fails. Your baby hits this stage of quickly putting on the pounds to gear up for birth, and it least in me, it as always triggered me to eat like food is about to disappear forever. And it's not good things I crave, either! It's sweets. It's chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, and cupcakes. And while I've been VERY good about keeping these things out of my house...I'm telling you, there are A LOT of opportunities to get my hands on them. It's the whole reason I was feeling left out on the fall treats to begin with. EVERYONE ELSE HAS THESE THINGS. And when you're very pregnant, everyone assumes you want them, and they offer them to you. So instead of saying no........I started saying yes. One time a week changed to 2-3 times a week.

And then I had a really bad day. One where the cravings were over the top, and I could think of nothing else. Something else happened on this very same day. I ran out of test strips for my glucometer. I totally mom-brain forgot that I was out of them - I thought I had another container, but I didn't. So I called to re-order them, but had to wait a couple days for my prescription to be filled. Sooo there I was, unable to test my blood sugar, with intense cravings for all the things I'd been intentionally skipping for far too long - and I caved. I totally and completely caved. I had ANYTHING I WANTED for a full 24 hours. I didn't hold back. I relished the freedom and the ease of just grabbing anything I wanted without thinking about what was in it or what I was eating with it or what time I was eating it. And this was SO very welcome, not only because I was indulging in all of the things I was craving, but (and this is horribly American and food-issue of me to say), I was finally able to say, "screw it, I am VERY pregnant and I feel ugly and gross - if I want to comfort myself with a giant spoon full of peanut butter with chocolate chips stuck in it, I'M GOING TO, THANKS".

I only had 1 day of being SO overly-indulgent, but it was a gateway, friends. I had a taste (quite literally) of eating EASY - as in, I could just grab and chew, rather than prepare and cook and assemble and clean my way to having breakfast. And again, terribly American of me - but let's face it. I'm 9 months pregnant. I am HUGE (or rather, the baby is), and I am TIRED. My previous energy from September is a passing memory at this point, and I want the fast track to sitting down, no matter what I'm doing. And since I'm scheduled, I don't want to go into labor early, either. I know some moms at this point would see the opportunity to induce labor and get this show on the road - but I'm in a unique place of hoping for the opposite. So, putting my feet up with one convenience food or another is speaking my love language right about now.

So I usually spend 2 of my meals being "good", one of them being a little lazier, and really not caring about my snacks in between. My biggest craving has been for peanut butter cups. They are all I think about! I told Matt I wish I could just have a plate full of them morning, noon, and night. One day, I was SO desperate for one (and we had none), so I made one. By melting chocolate chips into a very small glass bowl, and scooping peanut butter between the layers before freezing it and eating it with a spoon.

You think I'm kidding? Evidence:

No regrets.

Amazingly, despite sort of falling off the wagon a little, I haven't gained weight any more quickly. I gained 1 pound in 2 weeks, and it seems to be all of baby's. They typically grow about 1/2 pound a week in the last couple months of pregnancy (mine grow slightly more than that...like 3/4 or so). That being said, it was all baby's gain.

And, simply because I'm over the moon about it, I'll tell you - I'm way under where I thought I'd be weight-wise at this point. If you remember from my very first GD post, I typically end my pregnancies in the low 180's (while my normal weight is usually in the low 120's....yeah, I know, talk about a gain!). I was 182 the day Luke was born, and 185 the day Henry was born. I am 12 days away from giving birth, and I'm 176 right now. Even if I gained 2 pounds/week from now until the end (which is ridiculous and will not happen), I would still only be 180 (or slightly less). Lower than both of my previous non-GD pregnancies. Take that, Gestational Diabetes! My guess is that I'll be about 178-ish on this baby's birthday.

So anyways.

Despite my cheaty-cheat ways, there's a lot I'm still avoiding. For example, I do not touch with a ten foot pole:
  • Pop of any kind
  • Juice
  • Iced Capps from Timmy Ho's (which were my favorite in the 2nd trimester, boo)
  • White bread/rolls
  • Flour tortillas
  • Granulated sugar in my hot drinks (I use agave instead)
  • Overly-sugary fruits (like apples and melon)
  • White potatoes, in any form

And my guess is that this is the reason why my weight gain hasn't gotten out of control.

But I know it's bad. I shouldn't be doing things the way I've been doing them. I rationalize it by saying that I'm at the end anyway, and I deserve it after all of my hard work, and while many people would probably agree with me - I should be better. I also really don't know what they'll do with me in the hospital. Do I need to restrict what I eat there? Are they going to test me constantly there? These are questions I plan to ask at my next (and likely last) GD check up appointment this week, but I feel like I should prepare myself for the worst case scenario. Ya know, like, eggs and sub-par hospital meat 3 times a day and 4 or more finger pricks on the side. Like I won't be busy enough watching the clock for nursing purposes so the LC's don't belittle me for being a "terrible mother" for feeding my baby on demand instead of what the clock says (sorry, I get real bitter about that). I'm really hoping that's not the case, because I'll be honest - I've been looking forward to the freedom involved in just calling someone and saying "this is what I want to eat", followed by them bringing it to me AND cleaning it up. That part of the hospital stay feels like room service in a hotel when you're used to serving little hungry mouths constantly. If I have to be careful about what I'm ordering, or even have to order things I tend to think suck, that'll surely take some of the fun out of it. We'll see, I suppose.

Wish me luck! I am excited to share the end of my experience with GD with you - I sure hope it's a positive one!

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