I can be so bold sometimes. So bold in the face of things I do not know or understand. Pretending. That is how I get through some things.
I can pretend all day long I understand diabetes. And I know a lot- a lot more than I did three weeks ago- but I still do not know so much.
I know that people still do not understand that the only way I am able to control this, and help keep Eileen is 100% through my diet. No cheating. Cheating only hurts her.
I know that I am healthier for having been diagnosed and that by sticking to my diet and ignoring chocolate chip cookies, cheese dip, and Cheerios- I am making the last 7 weeks, the hardest 7 weeks of maintaining insulin resistance, better.
I know that I can make shrimp 10 different ways and it tastes different and delicious each time. With zero carbs.
I know I have to pack 9 cheese soy cracker cakes for a side to my sandwich for lunch wherever I go or Lay's potato chips will be harder to turn down.
Today though, I learned something new. I have a "high risk" pregnancy.
After such a fun and amazing ultrasound, Husband & I were on cloud nine leaving Christy's ultrasound room where we saw Eileen sucking her fingers- like I used to do- and flipping around. We saw her sweet hand wave to us from her little fishbowl and confirmed that she has my nose, but Husband's heart. We saw her little eyes fluttering and her practicing breathing. Her foot kicked, her little arms flexed, and she proved to us that, as both a Merry & a Cagle (and a little Brennan), she is resilient and gd-GD was not going to get her down.
...And then we walked across the hall...
"Step right this way, Mrs. Cagle. You will have to meet with Ms. Fran before Erin can see you."
Elated, we stepped into Ms. Fran's domain. And then the fun stopped.
Ms. Fran told me about A-bells, B-bells, and D-things...contractions and the woman's fetus behind the curtain next to me had a heart beat so loud that the more Ms. Fran talked the less I could concentrate and listen to, what I am sure were, very important words. As she continued, the more confused I became & the next thing I knew, there were two belts around my belly and cold gel covering a disk that listened to LMC's heartbeat with another monitoring movement. Feet in the air, strapped in... there I sat. For over twenty minutes. And Eileen hated it. She hated every second of it because as soon as the second disk hit my stomach, she started painfully kicking it.
And I cried about my diabetes for the first time in four weeks. A good cry, too-- one of those cries where you are too embarrassed to even let your husband see. I was behind curtains and silently sobbing because I was so scared. So scared of two little words I had not heard before about me- ever... High Risk.
I am many things- boisterous, emotional, silly, demanding, there are more- but my pride has suffered enough today- however, High Risk was never a place I considered myself.
So I cried. And Ms. Fran walked in and says, "Everyone cries, sweetie. It's just your baby's heartbeat. I know, Sugar... it makes you so happy."
No. It doesn't. I mean, it does, but I do not cry when I am happy. I laugh. A lot. And it comes out of no where and I laugh deep and hard, starting in my diaphragm. That is what I do when I am happy.
I cry when I am scared.
Husband would not wait outside the curtain- he came back there and sat with me, held my hand and promised that everything was fine while I hid my face behind a rough towel. He promised me that HE would tell me when he was nervous, and Husband keeps his promises. So, I put a little faith in Ms. Fran (IGOR as I shall refer to her, since I will be seeing her every week until LMC gets here), a little faith in Husband, and a whole lot of faith in Eileen.
It's all I can do. That and watch my food. And find that laughter from my diaphragm.