The waiting room buzzed with commotion.
Ross, my husband of six years, and I gripped hands. The nurse announced our names, and we paced toward the doctor's room after consulting a high-risk obstetrician about getting pregnant.
After months of discussing it, we decided to seek medical advice. I've been a Type 1 diabetic since I was 4 years old, I'm now 30, and any diabetic pregnancy is considered high-risk.
But I knew diabetic women who had successful pregnancies. Why should I be different?
Being different is the story of my life. I should have known better.
So with no good news, we left the doctor's office.
Two more doctors delivered the same blows. “No. If you get pregnant, you, and possibly the child, could die.”
What parent gambles on those odds?
Ross and I moved on, but with renewed strength. But the longing for a baby seeped into every aspect of life.
The pregnant women on the bus, complaining of aches and pains that I would never experience. The mothers at the park, swinging giggling children, pushing chattering babies in their jogging strollers.
Anyone with diabetes and who's expecting is turned over to a high-risk OB for all prenatal care, so last September we asked an endocrinologist, whom I see regularly anyway for my diabetes, if a natural pregnancy was even possible.
The response: It's perfectly possible. If anyone can do it, you can.
Shock, excitement, elation, confusion—so many emotions.
After the appointment I started a diabetic boot camp, of sorts.
I tested glucose levels more frequently; stuck to a strict schedule with eating, exercise and sleeping; and had appointments with every specialist imaginable along with test upon test and lab after lab.
By mid-October we were given the green light to try to get pregnant, but Ross and I expected a long journey.
Yet on Jan. 2 I held a pregnancy test in my trembling hands. I looked up at Ross and although I couldn't physically see his face, I searched him, not sure if I was dreaming.
He held me close, kissed my forehead, then my lips. “We're having a baby.”
And just like that, life changed.
I'm now 14 weeks pregnant, and both baby and I are doing well. I know Ross and I have created a fighter, just like me, just like us.
My doctors are constantly monitoring baby and me, which is what any pregnant diabetic must endure. There is no reason to believe that Sept. 12 will bring anything but happiness.
So prepare, readers, for more updates as the weeks chug along!