I called an emergency meeting with my endo last week. For the first time in my pregnancy, my blood sugar was out of my control. My fasting numbers, which I prided myself in keeping at the low end of the healthy range, suddenly shot above range and my post-meal readings were so erratic I actually threw out an insulin pen, convinced it was defective.

On MDI for the duration of my pregnancy, I did what I was told to do-upped my insulin-carb ratio, cut back on carbs, reviewed my food journal. I even checked to see if I'd consumed a bag of chocolate truffles in my sleep.

Clearly, I encountered the dreaded insulin resistance that plagues most type 2s and hits hard during the second half of pregnancy. I'd never had this problem before. Frantic, I posted on all my diabetes sites, begging for advice. The answer: Exercise more.

Already logging one 30-45 minute walk a day, I decided to add another, then another. It got a little better, but I felt robbed. For all that post-meal walking-in 90 degree heat, no less-I deserved a bowl of ice cream! But my dang bs wasn't low enough to justify it.

I sent my numbers to my endo, along with a note begging for advice. Normally, I email a question to my doctor and he gets back to me within a few hours. Two days later, I still hadn't heard back, so I called the office and they agreed to let see the LPN. Knowing that I will have to sit in the waiting room for at least an hour (sometimes three!), I'd never volunteer to come in unless it was important.

To backtrack, I'm pregnant, hormonal, and kind of crazy these days. I know that. These same hormones are messing with my blood sugar, and making me even crazier. Still, I feel professional help is warranted-and not the mental health variety.

The LPN reviews my readings for the last two months and tells me I'm freaking out over nothing. "Your numbers have been perfect all pregnancy, you have nothing to worry about."

I detail what it took to get there. I halved my carbs, doubled my insulin, tripled my workouts. She laughs and tells me I'm trying too hard. "You're putting too much thought into this. Honestly, you're just gestational and you're working harder than a type 1 on a pump. You don't need to."

I look over my chart. I haven't had a fasting number in range in a week and more than half my post-meal readings for the last month were high. I quickly correct her, I'm type 2 and I take this seriously because I want my baby to be healthy (and not huge). Still she belittled my condition and my efforts, and sent me out the door without any advice.

A few days later, I met with my wonderful dietitian, who assured me I'm not crazy, obsessed or doing too much. In fact, she shared other clients have gotten the same story from their doctors too. Apparently, type 2 diabetes isn't as serious as the media makes it out to be. Or at least that's what our busy doctors would like us to believe.

The bottom line: It doesn't matter what kind of diabetes you have, if your blood sugar is high, you're at risk for complications. Period.

Still, some days I can't help but wonder, have I crossed the line from conscientious diabetic to obsessive-compulsive?