My name is Christine, I am 40 yrs old and I am a type 1 diabetic.
I thought it would be a good idea to tell my story, so othersmight be able to prevent it from happening to them.
Diabetes runs in my family and When I was pregnant with my last child, Caden, I found out 3 months before I had him that I had gestational diabetes. I only had to watch what I ate. I'm not your tyical canidate for diabetes as my Endocrinologist told me. I was not over weight and I ate pretty healthy, but as I learned the hard way diabetes does not care who you are, how you look or what you eat.
I had Caden on Feb. 10, 2005, he was about 5lbs 8oz or so. None of my kids were ever bigger then 5lb 13oz. I was induced with Caden due to infected hemorriods one week before my due date. Everything went fine with delivery and Caden was perfect.
I went home 2 days after I had him and did like any other normal new mom, took care of her new baby. I seen my OB 6 weeks later and was good to go. I never seen my Endocrinologist again. I thought my GD was gone and that was it, nothing more to due, right? So I went on with my life, a year later we moved to a new state for now ex-husbands job. Every now and then I would notice my eyes had a hard time focusing on things that were in the distance, this has never happened to me before, but I played it off as my eyesight might not be as good as before. I only needed glasses for reading.
Again, I noticed I was more tired then before, very depressed. I thought it was due to my marriage and the problems I was having, not being happy and really missing my home and family. I would get these really bad headaches from my eyes and it started to become harder to drive at night as the headlights would hurt my eyes. I finally broke down and had my eyes checked in late 2008. Everything was fine, my vision was still the same, only reading glasses.
My marriage was at the end, my husband put in for a postion back in his home state and left me and the kids. I was stuck in a house that was going into forclosure, no job, no way to pay bills, or pay for day care so I could work. I had only 1 (one) friend who lived about 20 minutes from me and 1 (one) friend who lived at least 30 minutes away. Neither of them were really able to help me out. So I had not choice, but to go back to my husband. I tried to make it work, but when you are no longer in-love with someone it does not matter how hard to try, it just is not going to work.
So we seperated in April of 09, we had paid almost 1 yr of rent up front, so I did not have to worry about paying rent and I still had access to our bank account, which I used to pay bills. When I am stressed out or upset, I don't eat. So I was living on one or two meals a day and a lot of coffee. I lost over 20 lbs in just 2 months. I noticed my eyes getting blurry again on and off and the headaches they caused. I also started to notice the frequent bathroom trips during the middle of the night, it was like I was pregnant again, (although that was totally impossible), and I was thristy a lot more as well. Not any drink would do it for me, it had to be either water or unsweet iced tea and it had to be ICE cold. I would wake up during the middle of the night so thirsty.
I talked to my mom about all of these symptoms I was having and she had no clue what it could be, she thought maybe depression and stress due to me going through the seperation and now custody. I finally had to get a job in Oct. I knew I could get a waitressing job fast and at least have cash on hand when ever I worked. I thought my tips would be pretty good. Someone suggested going to Cracker Barrel, because you can do really good in tips and they are always hiring. So I went and applied and got the job.
It was nice to get out and meet new people. I made some friends and in a couple of months. I started going out after work with these new friends to Applebee's to have a bite to eat and maybe a drink. I got a bunch of people to go out with me for my birthday. There was one guy at work, who I thought was cute, he was funny and seemed like a really nice guy. Well, we all went to Applebee's for my birthday, including this guy. We sat and talked at the bar. It felt really good to be getting out. For so long I felt like I was missing out on life and that I was not attractive anymore. My ex made me feel like I was only there for one thing and that was sex. He said he could not keep his hands off me, but I seen it differently. I felt like I was a piece of meat and was groped all the time, I did not feel like a woman and it actually brought back the memory of when I was molested.
Hanging out with these new friends and some of them being guys, they would flirt with me and I have to admit, it felt so good. I liked feeling like I was a sexy woman, who guys found attractive. What girl would not feel good with getting attention? So, on this night the one guy from work decided he would get a little frisky and rub on my thigh, I was wearing a short school girl skirt, yeah I know I was asking for it, lol. Nothing happened. I went home alone, which I was fine with. I start texting him the next few days. My daughter, Sierra, was in a musical thing at school, so I asked this guy if he would like to come with me and he said sure. It was nice, he was really good with Sierra and Caden. He took us to dinner afterwards and even drew our names on a napkin with a heart around it, I still have it. The date was Dec. 15, 2009. It was when we first started dating.
His name is Daniel, and he has gone through a lot with me in these almost past 2 years. My divorce and custody battle, he has been great with my kids and Sierra really took to him. Daniel reminds me a lot of my step father Sid, who passed away in Jun of 96. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him and think of him. I always wanted to be with someone just like him and Daniel is pretty darn close. He is always happy and up beat, he looks at life as the glass being half full. He made me feel good about myself and is still teaching me to let go of all this angry I have bottled up inside of me. I know it has not always been easy to put up with me, I am very stubborn and pigheaded.
In April of 2010 I got pregnant, Daniel and I moved in together, I had to move out of the house I was in because I could not afford the $1700 rent. So we moved into an apartment. I ended up having a miscarriage in June and I went for and ultrasound to make sure I had passed everything. My OB did a urine test for keytones and it was darker then the dark brown on the bottle. He sent me to the same Endocrinologist I had, when I GD in my last pregnacy. The earliest he was able to get me in was Sept 1st. So I go and they take my blood, and sure enough I was a type 2 diabetic. He put me on Glyburide, but said that if I got pregnant again then I would have to go on insulin. I asked him if he thought my diabetes cause my miscarriage. He said no, that he did not see how it could.
My blood sugars were any where from 250-400. I seen a nutritionist, who swamped me with all kinds of information, my head was spinning. I got depressed again because I did not know how in the world I was going to do all of the things she said I had to do. This was life changing. I mean the biggest thing that kept running through my mind was all the foods that I had to give up now. I love pasta, I'm 1/2 Italian for godsake. I love Italian loaf bread with dinner. I love all kinds of food. I did not eat unhealthy. I am not a big fan of fast foods and can go months (6 or more) without every stepping foot into a fast food place. I loved cooking with fresh foods and using fresh herbs. I hardly ever ate the skin on chicken, thanks to my aunt Sue. I remember long ago when she went on a Weight Watchers diet and told me that the skin on the chicken is fat and will cause you to get fat.
Mind you, I am one of those people who visualize everything, so when she told me this, I could just see the fat building up on my theighs, stomach and butt. Not how I wanted to look. So around age 20 or so, I stopped eating the skin and only had it once in a great while. I started to cook while I lived at home, because to me, my mom used waaaaayyyy too much oil to cook with then I liked and again, I visualized that fat building up. I guess it was good that I pictured things this way, because it made me want to eat better and healthier. I was also never a big soda drinker and I was not a big fan of pizza, thanks to my oldest son, Jacob's, dad. He ate pizza all the time and drank nothing but coke. I can only handle so much of the same food day in and day out for so long. Sweet tea is not a big thing in Connecticut like it is in the south. So I would drink coffee in the morning, sometime OJ or V8 juice and then it was mostly Unsweetend Iced tea for the rest of the day, other then water.
So even though I was not eating unhealthy, I still had to cut out a lot of bread, pasta, rice, potatoes, cake, pie, certain veggies and fruit. I know had to learn to count the carbs of everything I put into my mouth. I was only allowed so many calories a day. I never had to count my calories before. I didn't even know how to begin and when the nutritionist was telling me how to, it was like her lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. I was so lost and felt very overwhelmed with all the information she was trying to cram into my not working brain. Sure this was easy for her to understand, she went to school to learn this, what in the world makes this crazy lady think that my brain works like hers, and that I had some kind of understanding of calories, carbs and counting before hand is totally beyond me. Oh and did I mention I have a learning disablitly on top of all this. So my brain does not understand the information you want it to in the same way as most people.
I thought I was stressed before, this just made it even worse. I felt so helpless and at wits end that I wanted to take my own life. You know how they say, God never gives you more then you can handle? Well God is not in my shoes.
So to recap all that I had going on at this time, was my divorce, custody, work, dealing with the miscarriage, having a crappy lawyer who did not know what in the hell he was even doing, writing my own divorce case for court and custody case, dealing with Sierra who was going through her own problems and not wanting to go with her father, trying to help pay the rent and bills on a servers pay (which by the way was crap), and now all this diabetes crap as well. I have to honestly say that the ONLY thing that kept me from actually killing myself was my kids. I could not fathom the thought of them having to be raised by my ex and his mother.
My ex is an alcoholic and pot head, he was very good at putting himself and what he wanted before me and our kids, this was another big problem we had in our marriage and why it ended. His mother was good at turning her head the other way. She was all about keeping up the prefect image of we have no problems in this family. My ex's family is all about keeping up with the Jones'. I noticed a big difference in myself and how I would worry about the name brand of clothes I was wearing and if everyone seen that I was wearing Tommy Hilfiger, or drove a nice new SUV, had a nice house to live in. I never cared about these things before. It was all superficial and not who I was. My ex's mother, in my eyes was not a good mother. I mean who goes out and pays $2000 for a dog for their daughter instead of taking her to theapy, when she clearly needed it. My ex's sister was worse with drinking and pot then my ex was. She was very depressed and has been on depression medication since she was a teenager. I am sorry, but there comes a time when you have to say, you need more then just meds to deal with your problems. You need to talk to someone who can help you get through all this. A dog is not that person. Her kids are this way because she allows it and she also does not let them grow up. I swear if my ex would let her, she would still be wiping his a** for him.
So no, these are not the kind of people I wanted to raise my kids. I did not want my kids to become alcoholics and drug users. My life has not been easy and everytime I think I may be getting ahead, I get knocked back down again, but I am a fighter and I will contiune to fight for as long as I am alive.
More to come tomorrow, it is late now and Daniel is home from a long day at work (2 jobs), and I want to spend some time cuddling before he falls to sleep, which only takes him about 2 seconds to do, lol.