I wrote this essay (originally published by Mom Babble) in 2015. I was just reading it today and reliving some of that enthusiasm for activity! And remember when I was running, pushing Mamie in that stroller every day? Well I figure I have one more year at home with Lizzie, and I'm ready to recapture some moments on the road and at the gym with her. <3 p="">
I'm Healthier Because of My Daughter(s)
Mamie laughs at the leaves falling on her stroller, complains when I tease them out of her mouth. This is our third walk around the neighborhood today, shooting for a goal of three miles. This toddler is my shield, a salve to soothe the awkwardness I would feel if I were out here alone.
I am no stranger to attempts at personal wellness. I have notebooks full of food logs, exercise logs, and blood sugar logs, stretching back a decade. I never imagined a baby’s motivating influence would trump every trick I had tried before. From the second she sparked into existence, my…
Nearly ten years ago, a doctor told me diabetes would kill me, it was just a matter of how soon. I couldn't see the benefit of his ugly, callous prediction. I couldn't see the benefit of being locked into a medical relationship with someone who saw me as a hopeless expiration date. I decided even with long waits and insurance hurdles, it would always be worth it to find doctors who are supportive and try to understand me as a person.
Today, I broke up with
I'm not convinced he's not a good doctor, but he's not a good fit for me. He has been seeing me for two months to help me prepare for another baby, but I don't think he knows anything about me. Our appointments last less than 5 minutes, he gives me vaguely shaming advice to lose weight, "start" exercising, stop being diabetic. He has never asked me whether I exercise, what I eat, what I do to control my diabetes. He has made assumptions about my lifestyle based on my appearance, …