Saturday, August 13, 2011

In Which Your Mama Whines a Whole Heck of a Lot

Dear Sprout,

This week has been exhausting, mentally. I am so happy that I was chosen to be your mommy, but I can't help but feel like my body is failing you. Failing us both.

We had an OB visit on Tuesday. I have kept my weight gain to a pretty good minimum, my asthma has been easily controlled, and you seem to be good and feisty. All in all, we're not doing terrible. My glucose numbers... those haven't managed to be under very good control at all. I went over the numbers with my doctor's and they just don't make any sense. I have been sticking to my diet and the same foods pretty much every day and the numbers are just wild and ever-changing.

So now, we are doing 4 shots of insulin every day. On top of poking myself 4 times a day to get my numbers. I am so sick of needles already. The next nine weeks will be eight needles every single day. Not to mention my new doctor schedule of twice a week, so they can hook me up to monitors to make sure you're doing ok in there.

I love you so incredibly much and I'm so happy we're doing everything possible to make your entry into this world as easy and healthy as possible. When I whine about this a little, it's not you, it's me. I had really hoped for a nice, easy pregnancy. I hardly sleep at night, unable to get comfortable. My tendinitis in my hip is becoming nearly unbearable. I spend more time in the bathroom than I care to admit.

The decision to stop with you, to have you be our only... that decision is becoming easier to stick with as the days progress. Please don't get me wrong, this is all so very, very worth the pokes and prods. You are so worth every bit of heartache I feel, every insecurity I have about my worthiness as a host body for you. I just don't know that I could put myself or your father through this again. Or you. I need to be healthy for you as your grow and going through these issues again would take away from what you need.

You are our miracle, our love and we can't wait to get to know you. These next nine weeks cannot come soon enough. Seriously. They can't. Let's do this!

I cannot express my love for you enough.
You are the second half of my heart.
Your mama

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