I had just returned from dropping the Monkeys off at school, stopping at the Y to cancel our membership (should have done that months ago), and grocery shopping for bread, which had of course turned into bread-tortillas-popcorn-toothbrushes-mouthwash-blistex-pickles&marshmallows grocery shopping. All of which we needed, just bread had been uppermost on my mind when we left the house this morning because we had used up every slice, including the heels languishing in the fridge for the last three weeks because no one wants to eat the heels. Then tortillas were added because I was sitting in the gathering space at the back of church, waiting for the preschool to open, and the daily Mass started with the priest remarking it is the Feast of Saint Juan Diego, which means Our Lady of Guadalupe. Since I was already planning to cook up some beef for supper, I figured we might as well attempt a Mexican theme, hence the tortillas.
Breakfast in stages? My husband was two hours into his first day teleworking, he'd decided to try it once a week for the next few months, and I looked at him in horror. Um, pounds?
However, he was eating a pear.
I'll admit I'm a bit sensitive right now. Yesterday at a doctor's appointment, the OB gave me a bit of a stern warning about gestational diabetes. Apparently my age, problems with yeast, and the fact that I've already had two well over nine pound babies puts this doctor on alert. (While pre-pregnancy weight is often cited as an issue, this is not the case for me.) The doctor grumbled that the glucose test was being given later than it should be -- next week -- "Talk to your colleagues," I shrugged. With a half-dozen OB's at this practice, there is some diversity of opinion.
However, what she said was enough to cause me to stop at the library on the way home and get a book on gestational diabetes. I might as well preemptively start educating myself. If the glucose test goes badly for my system, and then the three-hour test, I will have to take a nutrition class and probably have more than the usual number of doctor's appointments to monitor this pregnancy. I might as well start with some knowledge in my pocket. Then, if the one-hour test goes fine, so what? I've learned something new. Gotta keep those brain cells from totally rotting.
From the library I checked out a slim volume called "Gestational Diabetes: What to Expect" by the American Diabetes Association. I've read almost half of it, and already I am understanding some aspects of my previous pregnancies in a new light.
Monkey1 was 9 1/2 pounds, and Monkey2 was 9 3/4 pounds at birth. Big, fat babies.
Some time ago, one of my friends tried to explain to me that large weight babies were indicative of near-diabetes in the pregnant mom, and I could not understand what she was talking about. Some babies are just big! Now I have a better idea what she was trying to say. Let's work backwards, from the mother who has gestational diabetes (since that is the book I have):
"Macrosomia literally means 'large body' and refers to a baby who is larger than normal for its developmental age. Women with gestational diabetes whose blood glucose levels are higher than normal are more likely to have macrosomic babies. This occurs because the babies receive nourishment by absorbing glucose and other nutrients from the Mother's blood through the placenta. If your blood glucose levels are high, your nutrient levels will be much higher than normal, and the baby will receive more glucose than he or she needs.
When 'fed' the extra glucose, a baby tends to get fat. Because the baby does not have diabetes, it's pancreas will produce extra insulin to use all the blood glucose. The extra insulin the baby is forced to produce makes it grow bigger and fatter."
Bigger babies mean more trouble getting them out. Even before reading his book, I've wondered if Monkey2 got stuck heading the wrong way because of her size, and being breach, she was delivered by scheduled C-section.
Diagnosing gestational diabetes is done with a glucose test, or challenge, measuring one's blood sugar level, drinking something sugary, and then taking another measure of one's blood sugar. The level, a number, indicates normal processing or inability to process the glucose. What if someone passes the test, but marginally? This is the area of potential trouble; "you're fine" covers over, "with a few changes to your diet/exercise habits, things can go even better for you and the baby."
See, when Monkey2 was born, the hospital staff looked at her 9 3/4 pounds of glory and whisked her off for having low blood sugar. Because of her size, there was an assumption of her being fat on my extra insulin, which of course would drop once she was no longer connected to me. However, I have seen the hospital records, and there are no numbers to support what we were told at the time. I did not have gestational diabetes, according to the numbers, yet looking at my baby, this was the assumption. Obviously the science of this needs some work.
Learning about diabetes is interesting. So is nutrition. A daunting subject for me, because I'd much rather read Harry Potter with my kids than spend time on a grocery list, in my fridge and cupboards and stove, getting a balanced plate together. Something's on the plate, and it is not McDonald's, so we're good, right? Time to tweak into the "better" category, I think.
Sugar drink, one hour glucose test, in a week. I hope it's not that horrible orange flavor again.
No comments:
Post a Comment