'Twas My 9th Month of Pregnancy

Yep, it's here! As daylight savings time took place, I began my ninth month of pregnancy.

As this pregnancy comes to a close, I have really been reflecting lately on how amazing it is having this living, kicking little creature inside of me.

I also acknowledge (very willingly, don't get me wrong) that this will probably be the last time in my life I feel this sensation ever again -- the little fists hitting my public bone, the little feet dancing like waves inside my belly. I am 41, and this pregnancy wasn't even planned. There's always a chance I could have more children but I really don't wish to. This was a gift of a third child that I treasure but realistically don't want or need to happen yet again. But it's somehow bittersweet. I always wanted to repeat this experience of prenancy and early motherhood one last time, to savor its magic and its essence. My children are now 6 and 5, and it seems so long ago since they each came into our lives. I am thankful for the chance to repeat the miracle.

I also got inspired to write 'Twas My 9th Month of Pregnancy (loosely modeled on 'Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore.)

'Twas my 9th month of pregnancy, and all through the house
There was only one creature stirring, and it wasn't my spouse.

Baby items were strewn all around without a care,
In hopes that my older kids' new bedrooms would be painted and ready, no longer bare.

My family was nestled all snug in their beds
While I kept tossing and turning, trying to position my legs and my head.

And my husband in his underwear and me with my emotional crap
Had just settled down for an early spring nap

When deep in my belly there rose such a clatter
I sat up straight to see what was the matter..

Away to the bathroom I flew like a flash
To stay alert in the dark, to avoid any toilet splash

The itching of my belly, the cramps in my legs
Simply meant it was the 9th month of pregnancy, nothing more to dread

When what wandering thoughts in my head did appear
Enthusiasm, excitement, then sleepless nights and fear

Now, Benjamin! Now, Benjamin, Now Juliana my daughter
On, Victoria! On Victoria, will the doctor break my water?

To the top of the world! To be a mother of three!
I'll love my kids equally even if I have no time to pee

As dry leaves that before the hurricane fly,
I wonder when labor will start, & if it'll make me start to cry

But I go back to my maternity pillow, my long early spring nap
And realize thinking negatively is a pointless 'ol trap

I groan and I moan 'til I get the correct position in bed,
Laying down my sleepy little head.

There's only a few weeks of this tumolt, soon my legs will be spread
On a hospital table in front of a man or woman I didn't wed.

Pretty soon this will all be behind me and I'll remember these times well
And look for a way to live normally, despite the baby's frequent kvell.

Sugar, Sugar: Gestational Diabetes (continued)

It's been about 3 weeks since I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, and it's been, to say the least, a little bittersweet.


I met with a nutritionist and endocrinologist twice already, and have been checking my blood 6 sugar times daily, keeping meticulous logs of blood sugar levels and writing down everything I eat. So far things are more or less under control through changes I've made in my diet. No need for insulin, thank goodness.

But even so, it's a lot like walking a tightrope, and since I changed my diet, my ideas about food have really been challenged.

The obvious change is adding more proteins and veggies to my diet, and to reduce carbs and eliminate simple sugars. That's definitely part of it. But it's not that simple, especially when pregnant.

Portion size is really important, which means I have to eat 5 or 6 times per day, or every 2-3 hours (including late at night) to keep blood sugar levels on an even keel. What's more, if I wait too long between meals, I end up eating too much at the next meal, feeling full and uncomfortable (especially now in my 8th month of pregnancy!) and levels end up getting elevated because I get the carb craving.

The timing of eating certain foods is also critical. The breakfast meal has to be protein based, with just a touch of carbs. The carbs, of course, have to be whole grains. No cereal is allowed in the morning (now that's the antithesis of the American Special K morning!)and very little, if any fruit. Half a grapefruit seems to work ok, but other fruits just have too high a sugar content. Sometimes I even have some veggies for breakfast as a side dish, like steamed spinach or kale.

My nutritionist told me that fruit is a necessary part of my diet, but that fruit should generally be eaten as part of my snack regiment, not part of meals.


Eating late at night also has thrown me off -- I once went on a diet which restricted food after 6 p.m. Not in this case! Strangely enough, it's important to have a late night snack of carbs shortly before sleeping to keep blood ketone levels low or negative.

Ketones are substances that are made when the body breaks down fat for energy. Normally, your body gets the energy it needs from carbohydrate in your diet. But stored fat is broken down and ketones are made if your diet does not contain enough carbohydrates to supply the body with sugar (glucose) for energy or if your body cannot use blood sugar (glucose) properly. Hence, the need for carbs at night. Usually you'll find me at night munching on a bowl of Trader Joe's Os with milk, and I'll wake up with negative or minimal ketone levels.

The other thing I've found is I need a glass of milk for added proteins during meals. I used to drink almond milk, which is also healthy, and has a lower sugar content than milk. However, it's protein level is significantly lower.

If anything, these dietary changes have challenged me to rethink the quality of my nutrition, and ideas I previously had about what is healthy eating. And that is always a good thing.

I Have Gestational Diabetes, Now What?

I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes in week 31 of the pregnancy -- and I'm already at week 33.

I had to do the typical glucose tolerance test, which required fasting all night and a good part of the morning, and drinking a small bottle of sickly sweet soda and having my blood sugar levels tested every hour for 3 hours. Apparently my readings did not make the cut of typically normal sugar level readings.

It was a bit unsettling at first, to receive a voice message from the nurse, and then to speak to one of the doctors in the practice, who immediately told me the levels were "out of normal range" and referred me to a specialist.

When I first heard the words "gestational diabetes," I thought of daily insulin injections, large babies and potential pregnancy complications. Then when I spoke with other moms, I found out that some of them had GD too, and were able to control it with diet and exercise, and never actually got to the insulin stage. They apparently eliminated the diabetes postpartum, which gave me even more hope.

To an extent, understanding the condition makes it more manageable. What's happening is that due to pregnancy hormones and other factors, my body is either not making enough insulin or my cells are not using it properly. This causes the glucose to build up in my blood, hence the high blood sugar readings.

I can't say having GD is the easiest thing in the world to live with, but it's not the worst either. I have to prick my finger 6 times daily to measure the blood glucose. I keep logs of these levels as well as what I eat daily, and see an epidemiologist and nutritionist every two weeks.

Sometimes monitoring the glucose can get confusing, if not somewhat contradictory. You attempt to lower glucose levels by lowering your carb intake, then find out that your carb intake has to be higher to keep the keytone levels in your blood low, and the baby's needs met. You try to eat less, but then find out that a GD patient has to eat more frequently to keep the levels stable -- every two to three hours, ideally, plus a late night snack.

Sounds a bit schizo I know, but since I have changed my diet, pretty much avoiding all simple sugars and starches, my moods have undeniably changed for the better! Although I occasionally get upset and start crying uncontrollably from time to time, provoked by causes sometimes out of left field, the instances are rarer. More and more I feel like I am on level train tracks versus a roller coaster. All things for good, I tell myself, and also, this too shall pass, G-d willing.

The Santa Secret

My kids are getting at the age where they are starting to catch on to the Santa secret. Especially my 6-year-old son Benjamin.

Every year our playgroup has its annual Christmas party at one of our houses and one of the dads dresses up like Santa. The costume is quite good, and this Santa actually convinces his followers that he commutes down the chimney, before thundering down the staircase with a giant sack of toys for the eager, wide-eyed children waiting below.

Last year Benji pulled me aside after the gift giving and said, "Mom, that's not really Santa Claus, it's Tulah's dad!" It was hard to deny the pressing truth. However, while we admitted that people do dress up as Santa Claus, we told him that the real Santa Claus only comes on Christmas Eve. He seemed to buy that, and still does as far as we can tell.

The hard part was having him keep hush about the Santa secret to the other children, who are his age and younger. My friend tried to bargain with Benjamin this year, admonishing him that Santa would not give him a gift if he spilled the beans. It worked to a point, but he did admit that he "tried to tell Tulah that Santa is her dad, but she wouldn't believe me. She said she knows her dad's eyes anywhere."

My 5-year old Juliana is seemingly more gullible, more naive about these things. Benji told her the Santa secret, which she relished, saying in her high-pitched singsong voice, "I know the Santa secret!"


Interestingly, Benji and Juliana surprised me. One night before Christmas as we drove home in cold twilight, Benji (the skeptic, the big brain) proudly announced, "I hear Santa's bells! I see Santa's sleigh, up there in the sky, look!" Juliana, as expected, oohed and ahhed at his proclamation.

When Benji and Julie raced to the tree on Christmas day, I was not sure what their reaction might be. They both jumped for joy of course, tearing off the wrapping paper like lions ripping apart their meat. "Santa came! Santa came!" they both cried in unison. Then there was the kicker. Juliana pulled me aside and said, "Mommy, I'm so glad Santa came. He even used our wrapping paper!"

So far, the Santa secret has only been partially revealed. Let's see what happense next year. For now the Santa magic still remains.

Help, I'm Leaking!

I'm 21 weeks pregnant and now I'm in the midst of the Mother of All Head Colds. Sick as a dog, body aches and pains, and what's worse coughing and sneezing my head off.
That only means one thing.

DEPENDS!

I'm not quite there yet -- I thought this wasn't supposed to happen well into old age. But whenever I sneeze or cough, which is like, all the time, the flood gates burst open. Stayfree Maxipads don't always help either. Sometimes they're as useless as coffee filters.

Bladder control, hey, what's that?! Apparently this leakage is quite common in pregnant women, especially induced through sneezing, coughing or bouts of hysterical laughter.

Oh boy. Now I'm inspired to write a rap song about it:

Help! I'm Leaking (or I'm Not an Old Lady, This is Driving Me Crazy)

Whenever I'm coughin' or a sneezin'
You know it means I'm leakin'

Refrain: I'm not an old lady, this is drivin' me crazy.
This is supposed to happen at 80, not to a nice young lady!

Get me a diaper, or a windshield wiper
After you have babies, your bladder leaks like gravy

Refrain: I'm not an old lady, this is drivin' me crazy.
This is supposed to happen at 80, not to a nice young lady!

Stop the flood from spillin'
So this girl can be chillin

Refrain: I'm not an old lady, this is drivin' me crazy.
This is supposed to happen at 80, not to a nice young lady!

I want to stop feeling like a freak
And more like fresh meat!

Refrain: I'm not an old lady, this is drivin' me crazy.
This is supposed to happen at 80, not to a nice young lady

Such is the life of a pregnant woman. More to come...stay tuned!

Halfway along...are we there yet?

I finally reached my halfway point in the pregnancy. 20 weeks...yippee!
But does this mean I have to wait ALMOST FOUR MORE MONTHS till this is over?
My back is killing me, I can't sleep at night -- tossing and turning trying to get a decent position. It's hard to sit at an office chair for more than 20 minutes without feeling the baby pressing on my body, challenging my equilibrium and my back.
If I eat too much I expand like a balloon, and then feel so full I could burst. Can't complain too much about that, though, it's like a stomach valve -- natural weight control! I think I gained the most weight in the first trimester -- thank God for small things.
The cravings have subsided, but I still get pretty nauseous and queasy at times, even while sleeping.
Give me the strength!

Almost 13 Weeks: Hey, My Body's Changing

Yay! I reached the end of my first trimester.

I've been on the other side (the side of the second trimester) for almost a full week now.

The moodiness has subsided, but my body is going through lots of changes.
By 5 or 6 o'clock the idea of food (besides home-baked bread) makes me feel like puking. My stomach gets upset easily. I had a craving for milk late this afternoon, so I downed a glass of skim milk from the fridge. After I dropped off the kids at Tae Kwon Do, I stopped at a cafe to get some Nestle chocolate milk. I gulped that bottle down in record time.

Then my stomach started feeling weird. The noises. The cramping. Slowly but surely I was becoming Charlotte in the first Sex and the City movie, after accidentally sipping the shower water at the resort in Mexico.

About an hour later, I picked up the kids from Tae Kwon Do. Right outside the studio, I got a phone call from a girlfriend. We were gabbing about the pregnancy, and I told her about the morning sickness, the testing, and the baby's sex ("Yay! Another girl!" she cheered) among other things. I was careful to make sure no flatulence escaped in the presence of passersby, then let it rip when a particularly loud truck was making its way to the Jackie Robinson Expressway.

After we said goodbye, I raced to the basement of the martial arts studio, to that heavenly toilet god. I won't go into too much detail, but that milk beat the crap out of my system.


Then there's my body shape that keeps shifting more rapidly than playdough. On Friday night, two fun girlfriends took me out for dinner in Manhattan as a belated birthday present. I had my hair blowed out at the salon, put on my new $170 worth of Mac makeup and slipped on the funky little pregnancy skirt I got from Pea in the Pod maternity (overpriced but cuter than cute). I put on the pregnancy slimmer shorts and man, I did not look pregnant at all. My stomach was as flat as a board. I had to tell them I was pregnant, because even though I hinted at it a few weeks before, they wouldn't dare ask me because I didn't look a lick pregnant in my getup.
I was great at dinner, and even had half a glass of red wine. After dinner they took one look at my stomach and agreed, unanimously, "Yeah, you're pregnant."

We headed over to the CRT Lounge for 80s night and danced up a bit of a storm to favorites like the Human League's "Don't You Want Me," Young MC's "Bust a Move," Culture Club's "I'll Tumble For You," among many others. By 11 o'clock I was beat and had to sit down. That little baby was pressing on my stomach and making me breathless. Even my weak Shirley Temple couldn't get me grooving much longer.

Look, I'm glad I can groove and keep up with my normal routine and my fun adventures, after that whirlwind of a first trimester. But these times, my friends, they are a changin'!