Adventures with Gestational Diabetes
3:20 PM"So do you want to have this baby today? Because I'm ready to send you to the hospital right now."
Atticus resting cuddling with my pregnant belly.
It's been almost two months since my sweet baby 2.0 was born and more than two months since my last post. It's time to give you his birth story. And this story starts with my maternal-fetal medicine doctor (i.e. the high risk doctor) telling me at 37 weeks that my baby was possibly in danger.
I went in for what was supposed to be my last ultrasound before the baby was born. Everything had been going swimmingly: baby was average weight, my diabetes was well under control, and I was tired but otherwise great. I still picked up Atticus and carried him around, despite my triplet-sized belly. I was feeling great and excited to see my baby in two weeks.
Two weeks. Not that very day. I was hand-sewing pieces of our bassinet together. The car seat wasn't in the car. I didn't have a hospital bag ready. Our house was slowly coming together, but there were still things that needed to be put somewhere. I needed to get a few things settled and finalized at work. I wanted to make freezer meals, stock up on groceries, and get a nursing bra.
There was also the small issue of still not having a name for this tiny creature.
Not to mention, Atticus was still helping me sort through the baby clothes.
In short, I wasn't ready for the baby yet. So when the doctor reviewed my ultrasound, saw my amniotic fluid was very, very low, and asked me, "So do you want to have this baby today? Because I'm ready to send you to the hospital right now," I was speechless for a few long seconds.
"Um, no thank you."
"Tomorrow? Thursday?"
"...Not really."
We just weren't ready. It was too early. And I'd been through almost this exact situation before with Atticus. At his 37 week ultrasound, his fluid was very low too. With Atticus, I went home, drank tankfuls of water, and came back to find my fluid levels were reading just fine and carried him to 39 weeks as planned.
After I discussed this with the doctor, she eased up-- just slightly. She scheduled me to come back in five days and gave me explicit instructions: Drink water all the time. Rest as much as possible. If I thought the baby wasn't moving enough, don't even waste time doing a kick count or calling the office, go directly to the hospital to have the baby. If I just felt like something wasn't right, go directly to the hospital to have the baby. In five days if my fluid levels weren't where she wanted them, go to the hospital to have the baby. Do not leave the follow-up ultrasound without calling the doctor at the hospital to get confirmation that I was either free to go home or to come to the hospital to have the baby.
Seeing the pattern here? I was going to have a baby soon.
Shit just got real.
So we went home and worked as hard as I could without straining myself. In other words, I dictated what needed to be done to Sean while I sat on the couch and sewed the bassinet and packed the hospital bag. I drank more water than any human should be expected to drink. Atticus watched a lot of PBS while I kept my feet up and paid even closer attention to Baby 2.0's movements.
So we went home and worked as hard as I could without straining myself. In other words, I dictated what needed to be done to Sean while I sat on the couch and sewed the bassinet and packed the hospital bag. I drank more water than any human should be expected to drink. Atticus watched a lot of PBS while I kept my feet up and paid even closer attention to Baby 2.0's movements.
We did lots of cuddling with George the monkey.
I was feeling pretty confident when I went back for my ultrasound. There was no way this kid was coming this week. This wasn't my first rodeo; everything was going to be fine and I was going to have my baby at 39 weeks, just like with Atticus.
Wrong.
One reason why women with gestational diabetes are monitored so closely is because the placenta--you know, the organ that supports your baby's life--starts to age prematurely. That means less oxygen, less blood flow, less amniotic fluid, less life support.
Mine was dying. Still working, but struggling.
Despite my best efforts, it really was time for the baby to make his appearance.
Now, I'm not trying to be a tease, but I'm leaving you with that cliffhanger for now. I don't want this post to become a novella.
Tune in later this week for the exciting conclusion of Ready or Not, Here He Comes!
Mine was dying. Still working, but struggling.
Despite my best efforts, it really was time for the baby to make his appearance.
Now, I'm not trying to be a tease, but I'm leaving you with that cliffhanger for now. I don't want this post to become a novella.
Tune in later this week for the exciting conclusion of Ready or Not, Here He Comes!
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