i drank some very good beer…(okay, that was homer, not me)
i was diagnosed as hypoglycemic. due to my eating disorder. but at the time, it didn’t seem serious serious, even though my doctor said something like “if you don’t get it under control, you’ll be diabetic within five years.”
so i went to death by chocolate that night and intelligently chose the chocolate mousse with strawberries. as we were walking back to the car, we j-walked a six-lane street in coquitlam and i passed out halfway between the second and third lanes. apparently people just honked at me as my newly-engaged fiance tried to pick me up and drag me out of traffic’s harm/temper tantrum.
after that, i started drinking diet coke. i found out quickly what could pop my sugar back up when i was crashing; i also found out what would raise my sugar and cause an even bigger crash.
when i first got pregnant, i quit some meds and had the worst 24-hour morning sickness. i also quit intentionally restricting my food, since i really could only keep down chocolate milk, oranges and lipton’s onion soup for three months. i lost 6 lbs. then i felt normal-ish and the appetite kicked in.
since i’ve been nursing, i’ve stayed off of the diet foods, light or lowfat anything and i’ve honestly for the last few months been clawing to keep the weight on – i especially don’t want to drop below my pre-pregnancy weight of 105 lbs., which is where i am sitting, currently.
at one point, i was eating three power bars a day, three decaf white mochas with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, dessert after my double-portioned dinner, breakfast a snack and lunch at the same times as zoë (we share) and then normally some sort of snack between her first nap and dinner. when i say snack, i mean a meal, basically. like, i’ll do a bagel with pb and a banana and a granola bar and some juice. that used to be a day or more’s food. ugh.
the innate calorie counter in me is astounded that i generally consume somewhere around 3-5,000 calories a day. it used to be between 200 and 1,000 on a really special occassion. i do go for three walks a day with zoë. i do hardcore play for half an hour at home and also for an hour or two at playtime. i do climb a lot of stairs.
i’m mildly pissed off that i dieted to extremes – to hospitalizations – to get where i was before zoë and now that she’s been around for awhile, i’m exactly the same size as i was whence getting knocked up. what the fuck was all of that energy for, anyways, if was going to be one of those chicks? (it’s okay if you’re currently thinking that you hate those chicks. i hated them too. i still do.)
i dress more modestly now. i have stretch marks and not totally-shrunk back tummy skin and let’s be honest, my nipples are never not erect and the twins sag bit now, maybe creating the illusion of authenticity. my body shape has changed a bit. nothing i really care about. at least until bikini season in 2-4 more months.
the point of this was to say that recently, i’ve been getting crazy dizzy spells, have been shaky and have verged on blackouts a coupla times. my speech gets choppy, my ADD is more prevalent (but that could be stress), and i’m always hungry and thirsty. my circulation is more fucked than usual, my legs fall asleep if not in motion or with my knees bent at a 90-degree angle. add to that my mood swings (period induced, or due to lack of sleep, maybe) and insatiable sweet tooth and i think we have a problem.
at least i near-doubled the amount of time the doc gave me.
