Friday, August 23, 2013

Dia-blame, pregnancy edition

I haven't been doing a lot of posting about BabyH #2, and that's really just because there's been nothing of note to report. This time around, there's been no previa, my diabetes has been mostly cooperative, I'm not a disastrous mess of worry, and time's just been moving along. In this way, 29 weeks have passed pretty uneventfully. Until today's ultrasound appointment.

Boychik is clocking in at a whopping 4 lbs - 81st percentile for size. I know, I know - ultrasounds are hardly 100 percent accurate. And babies come in all shapes and sizes. And there's still 11 weeks to go. But I'm a Type 1 diabetic, and so those truths are apparently irrelevant. All the medical types see is the word DIABETIC plastered in flashing neon over a percentile number they've decided is too high.

Now, I won't say I don't appreciate the concern - macrosomia IS a well-documented issue in diabetic pregnancies, after all, and that complication isn't good for mom or baby. And I also won't say that I haven't also, ahem, exceeded the 50th percentile. In reality, by the end of this pregnancy, I'll have gained well beyond the 25-35 pound range recommended everywhere you look in all the pregnancy literature. But that's not the whole story.

I gained 50 lbs with my first pregnancy - again, well beyond the suggested 25-35 range. A whopping 50 lbs. in 37 weeks with L and she was born at 6 lbs, 7 oz. She is still a skinny, petite little thing and we've struggled to keep her on the weight chart for her entire life. And as of today, weight-wise I have gained LESS than what I did with her at 29 weeks. But did anyone ask? No. You see, I'm diabetic. That must be the only reason, the only thing to think about.

But surely that can't be the case, right? I'm whale-sized and my pancreas doesn't function - there can't be another factor, could there? Well, how about the fact that B was born early at a sturdy 8 lbs, 4 oz? Could that possibly be relevant? No. You see, I'm diabetic. That's the only possible reason, the only thing to think about.

So it's not a bad, inaccurate ultrasound day. Nor is it just the way my body grows a perfectly normal baby. Nor is it that his dad wasn't a pipsqueak, so maybe boyo won't be either. It's DIABETES. It's my DIABETIC PREGNANCY. I'm glad I have a high-risk team, I'm glad I have people watching over me and the boy to make sure we're all happy and healthy. But I'm incredibly frustrated that all anyone ever sees is the diabetes.

Screw that. I'm PISSED about it, and sick and tired of it, and just about ready to smack someone upside the head about it.


  1. You know "the drill" and how your body works better than anyone ... just tolerate their madness and opinions and keep on keepin' on ...

  2. I feel you, dude. I wish they'd consider the whole picture equally.

    You're doing great, FWIW.