Moving Right Along....

Does anyone else feel like time has sped up a bit? There just seems to be so much to do and not much time to even start, let alone complete everything. Time is never going to slow back down, is it?

So, for those of you who LOVE to hear about J here is a sad sad story...with some pictures! Though the pictures are kind of sad too.

It all started last Tuesday. I had a LONG day of work at TOSH (the orthopedic specialty hospital) and J had what I can only assume was an amazingly fun day with Grandma T and some of his Cousins. I got home from work, later than expected and much too tired for my own good. I set about to make dinner, I pulled out the George Foreman Grill, the grill did not come out of the cupboard easily, I had to tug a bit harder than expected and when it did free itself, and my arms flew backwards with great force, the Grill hit something. I guess I should have been prepared, or more aware at least, and known that there was a little guy, who missed me all day, standing right behind me. Sadly he was right in the path of the grill, and he got WHACKED in the face.

He started to scream and I quickly picked him up, begging his forgiveness and telling him how sorry I was and how I didn't mean to hurt him. I felt really bad. It only got worse. I had been holding him tightly, his face against my shoulder and I pulled him away so I could assess any damage that had been done and AAAAAHHHHHH he was bleeding from the mouth. You could easily see the gash on his upper lip, in the 30 seconds or so that I was holding him my sleeve had become covered in blood and he was continuing to bleed. The gash was about 3/4 of an inch long and looked "open" I told Ken I thought he needed stitches, 1 because the gash was on his face, 2 because of its length and 3 because it didn't seem to want to close on its own. We took him next door to our friendly neighborhood nurse and she agreed, he would most likely need stitches. So off to the Insta-care we went.

What happened? Well we learned that our local insta-care does not do facial stitches on children. They were nice enough to clean J off sufficiently to see that the GASH was more like a 1/2 inch scratch with a smaller gash in the middle. It was at this point that I realized something that I probably need to remember about J, because of the Von Willebrands, he bleeds a little more than the average child, and blood apparently makes me freak out and think things are worse than they really are. The Nurse said that she didn't believe he needed stitches and that he would be fine. We believed her. Here is what J looked like after we got back from the Insta-care.

It really doesn't look too horrible, right? I just hoped and prayed it wouldn't scar.
Little J went on with his week, enjoying the bounteous amounts of fruit in the house. (he even experienced his first watermelon overload tummy ache, I swear he at a quarter of that thing)

Here is a picture of J enjoying the peach he stole from his poor, poor mother!
Well, the sad ending to the story is that J now has a nice scar on his lip to remind his mother to be more careful in the kitchen.
Other people probably cant see it as well as I can, it makes me sad, but I guess boys like scars, right? (in this picture he is sad because I not only took away his milk so that I could get a picture of his lip, but I was also blocking his view of "Little Einsteins", talk about child abuse!)

So that is the sad story of J, and his scar.

Then there is me. So I told you all about the diet explained to me over the phone by the diabetic educator. I lost weight during the week prior to my actual visit with the diabetic educator and the nutritionist, this apparently was bad, and it was quickly discovered that the over the phone diet was missing quite a few things. After my 4+ hour class on diabetes I had a new, more reasonable and pretty easy to understand meal plan to follow and I was feeling pretty good. Well, I felt pretty good until the first time I had to test my own blood, and it was high, 160 when it should have been 120 or below. The next morning it was still high and as I had had a bad night, dreaming about my future of constantly pricking my fingers, I broke down and I broke down at a very inopportune moment for my sweet husband.

Here is why, how, and what happened. One of the things the diabetic educator talked about was the fact that women who get Gestational Diabetes are 60% more likely to get type 2 diabetes later in life. But wait, later in life is what I read on the Internet, so when she gave that statistic I had already heard it, until it registered that she had added to the information. "Excuse me, did you just say that we are more likely to get Type 2 within the next 5 to 10 years?" The quick response was "Yes, 5-10 year, especially for someone who has a family history of Type 2". Inside my head I screamed and I almost cried. So after a high blood sugar that evening, a bad nights sleep dreaming about my FUTURE, then another high fasting blood sugar, I was pretty sure that I was going to die an early death. And so in true Kate fashion, just minutes before Ken needed to leave for work, I exploded into tears. I felt so out of control, after all I had been eating according to the diet/meal plan that I had been given, I had AVOIDED SWEETS, why couldn't I just control my blood sugar, then on top of that I now had only 5-10 years to make the changes necessary, to lose the weight necessary to delay the onset of the disease that I didn't want. AAAAHHHH. Ken did his best to comfort me in the time he had and then we both went on with our day. Things got better. My after breakfast blood sugar was good and throughout the day I received several little tender mercies, my prayers were answered and the answer was that God knew what I was going through, he understood that I wanted control but I needed to understand that HE did have control and no matter what happened, it would happen in the way that he intended and I would be OK, in fact I would be better for it. And with that I went on with my day, and I didn't cry anymore.

It has almost been a week since that little breakdown, and I am still feeling Okay, I don't need to be in complete control, I just need to do what I CAN do and not worry about the things I CAN"T control, and God will make up the difference. He will give me peace in the midst of the storm. I believe that, I know that.

I saw my Doctor yesterday and discussed what the gestational diabetes means, as far as the delivery date of the baby. I am currently 34 weeks along, so I have 6 weeks left to prepare myself, emotionally and physically to deliver this baby right? Maybe not. Because the baby might be big, and because there is really no way to tell how big he is, my Doctor will check me in 4 weeks and if my cervix is at all favorable, she will want to induce me. Wow, 4 weeks is not that long, once again the opportunity to feel out of control, this time I handled it pretty well. The baby will come when it is the right time for him to come, God will see to that, all I have to do is prepare myself. I guess I better stop typing and start preparing.....