Gestational Diabetes and the Land of Confusion

You know, I thought I had a pretty good handle on gestational diabetes.  I mean, really, this isn’t my first go around.  I had gestational diabetes with Norton, and I managed to keep my numbers well in the normal range on a consistent basis.  This time, I’m learning that everything that worked with my gestational diabetes last time is just a great big ball of fail this time around.

Last time, the trick was figure out what I can eat.  Okay, great.  Once I established what I can eat without completely blowing my numbers (and even hot fudge sundaes from McDonald’s were fine), I was good to go for the rest of my pregnancy.  Truth be told, I didn’t have to do a whole lot of adjusting.

This time?  Ha.  Last week, my numbers were generally good, providing that I didn’t eat something stupid like half a pound of animal crackers.  Now the same foods that would give me lower numbers two hours after eating than I had before I ate are putting me in the high zone.  Foods that were just fine are giving me ridiculous numbers.  Taco soup gave me lower readings than my fasting numbers were.  And now, to make it even worse, I’m finding that I can’t even eat the same meals at different times.

My numbers for the last couple of days had been too high.  So, I figured I’d be smart.  I’d have breakfast for dinner.  Last night, I made pancakes (with whole wheat), turkey bacon, and eggs.  Lots of protein, so it should agree nicely with my readings.  And besides, that meal always gives me awesome numbers in the morning.  However, two hours after dinner, my test readings were high.

And to make it even more complex… I had just pancakes this morning, no protein since we were out of turkey bacon and I’m really not a big fan of eggs.  My numbers were still good.

So, clearly, I just can’t eat dinner.  Ever.  Which isn’t exactly healthy.

Food is going from something fun to something irritating.  At this point, I’m ready to give up and just tell them to put me on insulin and be done with it, because I’m not keeping it controlled.  Every time I get crappy readings, I feel like I’m failing.  It’s making me really, really crabby.  (Pills aren’t an option; the only thing that is used in Canada to treat gestational diabetes is diet and exercise… or insulin.  Metformin isn’t approved for management.  Lame.)

Oh, well.  I might as well just accept that I’m going to have to continue to stab myself at least three times a day for the next ten and a half weeks.  And then I’d better hope that I never end up with full blown type 2 diabetes, because this crap sucks.

About Suzi

Suzi is an American ex-pat living in British Columbia. She's a cloth diaper addict, wife, mom of three, and President of the Prince George chapter of Cloth for a Cause.

Comments

  1. I know this won’t sound comforting but I found that giving myself three shots a day became rather routine and I didn’t think much about it. It’s definitely not fun and I wasn’t thrilled to do it but it wasn’t as horrendous as I thought it would be. Still I hope that you are able to get things figured out without the shots. That darn food!

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