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We found 8 result(s) that match your search "c-section":

Part 3 of a 4 part series. See part 1 and part 2

As night turned into day, the nurse cranked up the pitocin little by little, but I didn't feel a thing. The monitor didn't register many contractions either. In fact, the contractions I had felt at home for two days were much stronger.
Around 11 a.m., yet another OB from the group practice came in to check me. I was 4 cm dilated. She used the hook to break my water. All hell broke lose. The room started to turn over backwards. I was screaming, crying, gasping. I thought I was going to die. My husband held my hand and told me to breathe. I told him where he could shove it. (READ MORE)

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Part 4 of a 4 part series. See part 1, part 2 and part 3.

In the operating room, I was laid on my back and the world started to spin again. I didn't know what was wrong. I had a shooting pain in my shoulder blade and could barely breathe. I was dizzy and nauseous. I felt something was horribly wrong. Was my blood sugar low? No. Was my blood pressure low? No. I was flailing my arms and legs, I could not lay still. The doctors had to sedate me. (READ MORE)

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I thought it was a miracle. The day after Danny was born, my diabetes suddenly disappeared. I no longer had to test a dozen times a day. And the few times I did test, my blood sugar was perfect. Not low, not high, but normal. In that magic 70 to 120 non-diabetic range. My meter looked like those in the commercials. It was wonderful, but it didn't last long.
For the first few weeks at home with the boy, I was able to ignore my diabetes. Granted I didn't eat with abandon or anything, but it sure was nice not to worry about it. Not to have it be the first thought in the morning or the last thought before bed. To go a whole day-a whole week even-without once testing my blood sugar, estimating a carb count or taking insulin. Diabetes was but a fleeting thought.
Granted I had plenty of other things to think about. Getting to know my son. Healing from a C-section. Figuring out how to breastfeed. Managing on little or no sleep. Nature had to give me a break somewhere. (READ MORE)

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Kerri asked in my comments how my diabetes reacted post-delivery.
It was amazing. I was up to 38 units of insulin a day, as well as 2000 mg of Metformin (aka Glucophage). The morning I was scheduled for my c-section (for non-diabetes reasons) I did not take my insulin per instructions. I couldn't eat anyway because of the surgery. My diabetes team wanted me at 110-120 bgl pre-surgery, so I actually had to have a little glucose in my IV drip 2 hours before surgery because I had dropped into the 90's.
I did not need another drop of insulin while in the hospital. I haven't needed it since except for a few dietary indiscretions. (READ MORE)

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When my husband and I decided to start a family, we knew my diabetes would be an issue. As a health writer, I spent months researching the topic before actually getting down to work. I read every book on the subject and followed every internet link. I figured I know just about everything there is to know to be prepared for the nine months ahead.
For the most part, I take great care of myself-too good if you ask some of my doctors-yet all of my research and obsessive control could never prepare me for the challenges of a diabetic pregnancy.
That's why I'm so grateful to have found a website devote entirely to women like me. On the forums at Diabetic Mommy, women of all types of diabetes in all stages of motherhood from all over the world share wisdom, advice, laughter and tears with one another. (READ MORE)

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They say if you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans. Well, my birth plan must have had Him in stitches.
After nine months of cramming for the "final exam," I had developed a good picture of what I wanted my son's birth to be like, and drew up a birth plan as instructed in Lamaze class. I knew flexibility was key, but I didn't realize it was the only thing I could count on.
The plan was to try to go as naturally as possible, with the option of pain meds if needed. I wanted mobility, a birthing ball, comfort techniques and the labor positions we had practiced for weeks. I wanted to let gravity do its job. (READ MORE)

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I've made it to the homestretch. As of this Friday, we're full term, 37 weeks. From there it's only three weeks or less to go.
I've also made it to the hardest and most unpredictable stage thus far, and possibly one of the most crucial. And I'm completely running out of steam to keep it up. Baby better come soon!
Hormones are a crazy thing. From day one of pregnancy, I've been on quite a rollercoaster ride. In the early days, before I even knew I was pregnant, I was blindsided by highs, especially fasting. (READ MORE)

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Partly, anyway. My doctor took me off insulin last Thursday. Since then, my dose of Metformin has doubled to 1,000 mg twice a day, and my blood sugar soared to new heights. I gave the experient a good week, and it failed miserably.
At first, I felt like it was my fault. I hadn't put forth 100 percent effort to avoid white flour, sugar, corn syrup and the like. Actually, I was doing a really bad job at it. I could feel my diet and blood sugar spiraling out of control and felt helpless to stop it. The more I tried to stay away from the bad foods, the more they called my name. I came to realize it was that insane high blood sugar hunger screaming to be fed like some monster. (READ MORE)

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