back to injectibles

I had my followup appt with the endocrinologist this morning. He was pleasantly surprised with my blood sugar levels over the past week, and I've lost about seven pounds. He said he was impressed with the control I had, and the progress I've made. I haven't met with the nutritionist yet, I have a GD class the next two Monday evenings, and I'm anticipating that my numbers will get even better after that.

Despite my progress, my numbers are still too high, especially in the morning. Since my numbers at lunch and dinner are just fine, there's really no way to control that with diet. And since my ER scare earlier this week, excercise is very limited.

So I'm back to injectibles - this time it's insulin. I'll take one shot before dinner, and one at bed time. They sent me home with two vials and a box full of syringes.

In my head, I know that this is not my fault. I know that I have done and will continue to do everything within my power to control this. My baby comes first, way before my desire for dessert or a glass of milk. I can do the shots - hell, I needed shots to get pregnant in the first place. I'm an old pro at the pinch-and-stick.

But I feel like such a failure. I *know* I'm not, but I *feel* like I am.

I'm so sick of my body failing me. It couldn't get pregnant on its own, needed intervention and help. Now, it's responding to the pregnancy like this. It's all the same issue - PCOS affects blood sugar, or vice versa, and it comes as no surprise that I ended up with GD. I knew that going in. I didn't know it would be this severe. And yes, it's still manageable and not as bad as some, but it's only going to get worse as the pregnancy progresses.

I know I'll be fine. I know the baby will be fine. I know I can do this.

In the waiting room at the doctor's office, a young woman kept shooting me dirty looks. I assume it was an IF issue. I was sitting there, all pregnant and looking at my Baby Bargains book, making notes for my registry. And the room was crowded, the only place to sit was in her line of sight. I wanted to tell her, "Don't judge me, I worked hard for this." But I've been there, and I know how it feels. I wanted to tell her that, just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean that I'm not still dealing with IF. But she wouldn't have appreciated it, and probably wouldn't have understood.

I'm just so sick of fighting my IF. It's the same issue here, just manifesting itself in a different way. But having a baby was "supposed" to heal this. Instead, IF just finds new and creative ways to keep wounding me. And I know I'll come up against these issues throughout my life, in one form or another. And it still sucks.