Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

I don’t even know what the title of this blog posts really means, but that is exactly how I feel right now.

On Friday I spent the better part of the afternoon and early evening back in labor and delivery. I was having 7-8 contractions per hour before I went in but they magically stopped when I laid down on the hospital bed. They checked me and ran some tests and right now it appears that when I’m sitting or standing, baby is pressing on my cervix. The solution? A maternity support belt. It’s really uncomfortable but if it helps, I’ll wear it.

On Monday morning I was thankful to have made it far enough along in this pregnancy to sit through the dreaded glucose tolerance test. During those 2 hours, I tried not to think of the pain in my mouth. Yes, in addition to pregnancy-related ailments, my front tooth – chipped very badly as a child and since undergone many composites – started throbbing and causing pain up into my nose.

While I was waiting to see the dentist, I got the phone call that my glucose results were abnormal and I have gestational diabetes. So while I sat in the dentist’s chair I tried not to cry because my tooth hurt and I once again failed my baby.

Tooth diagnosis is pending until after delivery unless it gets worse but I will likely need a root canal and have to take an antibiotic now in case there’s an infection.

While I sat in Costco waiting for my testing kit I tried not to cry but could barely see the pharmacist through my puffy eyes when he explained how to test my blood sugar. You know what the worst part of this diagnosis is? That I was told I have gestational diabetes, but besides being told to test four times per day, no one has told me what I’m supposed to do.

Yes, there’s a class I’m supposed to take next week but in the meantime I am left to figure it out on my own. Since I’m a librarian, I know how to find reliable information but nevertheless, I feel like I swimming under water without oxygen.

I am constantly apologizing to my baby and my husband for failing them. What did I do wrong that all of this is happening? Yes, I’m four years older this time around. But what am I doing wrong? Nothing, my husband tells me. It’s not your fault.

And yet here I am, at 25 weeks, praying I make it to 38 weeks, wondering, guilt ridden and scared out of my mind.


7 thoughts on “Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

  1. That sucks. I’m so sorry. But hey, even if it feels like you’re “failing” your loved ones (which is a totally legitimate feeling), to me it doesn’t look that way at all — you obviously love them and care about them a lot! I wish you and your baby and family good luck.

    • Oh, also — this may be too late, but possibly worth a shot: If there’s any chance the glucose test results were really close, can you ask to take it again? If so, walk around while you’re waiting. I had to chase C around during my wait time and I passed; later, I heard from a nurse that being active will help lower the result. (More knowledgeable medical practitioners are welcome to correct this if I’m wrong, of course!)

      • The results were in fact really close and I have asked for the test to be retaken. Dr. says even if the numbers are slightly abnormal, I must be monitored by maternal fetal medicine and test blood sugar. It’s like I’m really good at failing a little.

  2. You AREN’T doing anything wrong, you just aren’t. Everything that CAN be done, you’re already doing. What more can you expect of yourself? Think about what your body is already going through, of course, OF COURSE it’s going to take a toll. You’re not doing anything wrong, you’re growing a person inside your own body. And that’s pretty spectacular in and of itself.

  3. I would have felt very alone and floundering, too, if no one told me some at least some initial guidelines for the gestational diabetes. Yes, you are educated and can do the research–but, it would have been nice to not be left alone on this, even if just temporarily. We try to do everything so *right* every moment when we are pregnant. An acknowledgement of that effort and concern would have been helpful.


    Kate @ BJJ, Law, and Living

  4. Of course you feel like a failure. It would be inhuman not to.

    I’m trying to imagine what would be of comfort to me, were I in your shoes, and not much comes to mind. All I can say is – you don’t need to focus on unclenching, or relaxing, or forgiving yourself, or anything. Just exist for now. You don’t have to live the whole rest of your life in this minute. Live this minute, then the next minute, then the next one. You will get to the other side of this. It is hard to know how that will look, and as a researcher it’s probably tough for you not to be able to look up the answer. But you, and your baby, will get there, and together you will figure it all out. I am beaming all of the love and prayer I can muster directly to that little darling you are carrying with you, with a little to spare just for you and your husband. You are not alone.

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