I know; "normal" is a loaded word. What I mean by that, here, is: if my blood pressure stays where it needs to; if my type 1 diabetes behaves itself in a way that doesn't create a Snuffleupagus-sized baby (though I would totally be okay with her having his long, gorgeous eyelashes); if there are no indications that carrying Baby Girl to full-term would be detrimental to either of us, then a full-term pregnancy we shall have. There would be no reason to think otherwise.
And so far? My blood pressure is staying in range (the daily monitoring at home might even be helping it - less to stress about between appointments). While I tend to not share A1C results anymore online, I know that is something that many ladies who have pre-existing diabetes and want to become pregnant ask, so I might as well share for those curious: my first result after knowing I was pregnant was 7.1, and I've seen 6.8, 6.3, and now 6.1 this week. I'm not swelling up like a pufferfish (yet?). I've been gaining weight at a pace we're all happy with, and Baby Girl is moving around frequently. Thyroid levels? In check. Protein spilling into my urine? Nope. In fact, the only things I can complain about, post-prandials aside, is exhaustion and some mild heartburn (a fun new experience for me).
Fast forward, then, to the appointment I had last week with
Just as I was basking in the "yay, everything is okay!" feeling, the doctor concluded with, "Okay, so we're on point to deliver at 37 weeks!"
....
...excuse me, what?
"I was under the impression that if everything was going well, there was no reason to deliver early."
"With long-standing type 1, I want to get her out of there as soon as it's safe."
As soon as it's safe?
The words bounced around in my head for a moment before proceeding to prick at my heart. Because what he's implying is that, right now, she's not safe. That simply by having had type 1 diabetes as long as I have, despite it being reasonably well-controlled and free of major complications, her tiny apartment inside me is a danger zone. That no matter how hard I may work at it, no best effort is good enough to keep her cooking as long as she is intending to be. That, in my eyes, I can do nothing but fail to have the "normal" pregnancy I was hoping for.
I wanted to poke that doctor with something covered in bees.
He also offered his (unasked for) take on a couple of other items - that I start taking a baby aspirin daily to ward off high BP and eventual pre-eclampsia, and that the last bit of pregnancy "isn't actually insulin resistance", which he followed with some malarkey that I honestly just tuned out. I don't know what to think of this guy now - while I trust in his training and enjoy his sense of humor, what I do not trust is his confidence in calling the shots for a patient he only met a month ago, with limited knowledge of her medical history. (I also question his motive for wanting an early delivery, considering that the recent advice I've seen from the ACOG as well as from the professional organization's president himself, would directly contradict with that. Couple that with my control being "good" but "not too tight", and I fail to see where his concern can reasonably stem from.) I also question his advice on the baby aspirin, and am following up with the other members of my medical team before following through on that request. (I will say that when I relayed this all to my endo this morning, she raised the same eyebrow I did. At least I'm not alone.)
Everything seems a little more unsure now, and I don't like it.
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