I'm Still Around

Many times I've wondered if I should keep blogging. Infertility and pregnancy tinged with diabetes provided a great momentum and I always had sufficient material.

Motherhood has given me another batch of experiences, but I haven't wanted to chronicle them in the same public way.

I'm still working on my proposal for my book about type 1 and pregnancy, which was the original reason I started blogging -- to build a platform.

I miss the feedback from people who looked to my blog for information about pregnancy, about diabetes, or just for whatever it is they found when they stopped by.

So here I am after several months of quiet here at Managing the Sweetness Within.

Baby L is doing great. So great that I always feel like knocking wood, crossing my fingers and wondering when the shoe is going to drop. Yet, it's that fear of what could go wrong that makes me appreciate how terrific my son is. He'll be nine months next week.

I've thought about what it would be like if he were diagnosed with diabetes. And while I wouldn't be happy, I keep telling myself that if he were, he'd have me as an advocate, someone who could relate to how it feels to prick one's finger, to inject oneself daily, to constantly count carbs and figure out insulin ratios. We'd be in it together. And while I honestly hope that never happens, I do feel at least I can honestly understand what he'd go through if it ever does.

After 8.5 months, I finally gave up pumping breast milk. Early on, I was committed to giving him as much as I could because of my (exaggerated? maybe) fears that any formula would eventually give him diabetes and make him less intelligent. But low supply, despite doing everything I could to jack it up, meant my kid's been eating (predigested) formula from early on. At the high point, he probably ate about half breast milk, half formula, and in the final days, he was lucky to get a bottle a week. And this is despite daily regular pump sessions with whatever herbs, drugs, water, or whatever I could do to up the ante.

I've come to realize that my kid eating a lot of formula has been fine for him. He's only had a few runny noses since birth, hasn't been really sick, and is now chowing down organic stage 2 foods by the spoonful. He seems bright and smart, and seriously, after reading this post by a blogger who's perspective I find refreshing, I'm more pleased that he's super sociable. I mean, he'll certainly do well in life being social, friendly and well-liked, just in case he's not the kid with the highest IQ.

Diabetes-wise, the numbers have been up and down, and my weight has continued to be about 40 pounds away from Yummy Mummy. I've started talking to a therapist who deals with diabetic issues to find out what my deal is about food. As in, why I can't seem to just eat smaller portions and be happy with them. Instead, I eat a lot of what I like, then cover for it with more insulin, and the weight never peels off. It's the opposite of the diabulimia trend I keep reading about. I'd never do that--I value my eyesight and kidney function far more than looking thin. Instead, I just keep eating and bolusing, and the weight doesn't budge. It's not rocket science--and I'm trying to figure out if it's just basic diabetes resentment about being told what and how much to eat, or something else.

I had a trigger thumb release about a week ago. Basically, my right thumb has been frozen since the summer, along with some other major wrist pain I chalked up to picking up a baby all the time. A trip to a hand surgeon brought me a few cortisone shots, which helped some, but my thumb didn't ever move. It was basically frozen straight, so I had what the doc called a minor outpatient procedure at my local hospital (where Baby L was born) to cut into the thumb and release a part of the thumb that helps the tendons move properly. I've had other diabetic pals have every single finger done, and my surgeon brother told me he'd have the procedure done himself in a second if it was happening to him, so I had no hesitation about having it done.

I still have stitches in my thumb that will come out next week, and taking a novocaine shot in the thumb definitely hurt, but I can now move my thumb again and am glad it's behind me. Chalk up yet another surgical procedure for a treatable, likely-related-to-diabetes-but-who-knows, issue. I'm just glad it was actually treatable.

In fact, when the nurse was taking my information before the procedure, the answers to the questions about drinking, smoking, and doing drugs were quick. When she asked about prior surgeries, I was like, you might want to sit down for this one.

I guess I don't mind having such a weird list of surgeries and other medical procedures (c-section, eyes lasered, thryoid removed, odd sarcoma removed from my abdomen) so long as they've all resulted in good things. I mean, the sarcoma was found to be mostly benign and hasn't returned. My vision was unaffected by the laser treatment. My thumb works fine now. And my fabulous napping son was worth any procedure (and there were certainly plenty of them) to get to this point.