My body

I failed my one-hour glucose test last Wednesday. I was supposed to get under 140 I think, the number was 160ish. So I had to go back for a three-hour test. I did it the next day and I failed again. I passed two tests and I failed two. I was a little worried going in for my 28 week check up on Wednesday because I noticed that the number that the scale showed has never ever been so high, not even at the end of my pregnancy with Lisa. I want to think that after being so sick for almost five months and not being able to keep much food down my body decided to hoard whatever I put in it. I have heard mixed opinions about this test. Some people who have failed have told me that the numbers don't mean much and that doctors and hospitals just want more money and will scare you to get you to go to the class and buy all the sugar testing supplies. The same people told me not to ignore it and be more careful about what I eat. Other people told me to take it very seriously. Of course right after my second test I started getting calls from the Gestational Diabetes Specialists at the hospital. They want me to go to a three-hour class, and make sure I bring my insurance information. I had noticed that I was getting bigger with this baby than I did with Lisa, and to be honest I really don't quite understand why. I guess your body is just different with each pregnancy. I cannot understand how come I am gaining so much weight when I barely have time to eat after I am done feeding Lisa. I do eat junk food once in a while, especially during the weekend when I go out with Mike and Lisa, but after coming back from the doctor wanting to get rid of junk food at home I realized that the only thing I had that would be considered junk or not so healthy was Nutella. I admit I eat maybe two or three whole grain toasts a day, but I still can't figure where is this weight and gestational diabetes coming from. I even stopped drinking the delicious mango juice from Costco that I love so much a while ago and only keep milk in our fridge.
I don't think I have the strength to go sugar free right now, but I am trying to only have something sugary once a day, for example if I have a strawberry jam toast that would be all the sugar I get during the day. I don't know if it would help as I think I really don't eat that terrible, but we will see. I wont listen to the people from the hospital and I will go to the class too. Hopefully this baby wont be huge. The nurses were telling me stories about very big ladies who claim to eat McDonalds and sweet all the time who would pass the test with flying colors, and the super fit ladies who would fail miserably. I'd better be in the cautious side.

I think its interesting that this happened this week, which has been particularly difficult. I am feeling really huge, and I also feel very frustrated because there is not much in my closet I can wear anymore. I feel like my legs are huge, my arms are huge, my face is huge... everything in me is huge. On Friday I read an article that made me feel so silly it made me cry. After reading it I felt like I had been complaining too much and that I needed to appreciate my body more and just try and keep it as healthy as I can, yes my huge and achy body. I still feel quite awful when I look in the mirror, but I quickly remind myself that there is a miracle happening inside, a miracle that I love already and will meet and very soon. When that miracle comes out the imperfections left behind will serve as a reminder of what my body is capable of. God gave me this body and I will do my best to take care of it because this imperfect body of mine makes miracles, perfect little miracles.


Here is the article,


Ntima Preusser

Military wife and new mother

An Ode to My Postpartum Body

Before I became pregnant, someone told me, "don't have a baby, babies ruin your body."

It has been over a year since Anabel began her life. This time last year she was a microscopic speck inside of me, and we were announcing our pregnancy. Between then and now, I have gained and lost 50 pounds. Four months after her birth, and my body still carries proof of her existence.

I have dark pools under my eyes. A valley where my belly button once was. Hips with a new amplitude that my teenage self wouldn't recognize. I have lines mapped across the mountains of stretched skin left over on my midsection. Lightning bolts on my sides proving I once was too small to contain all of the love that filled me. Lines indicating that my daughter once lived inside of me.

Do you realize the significance in that? Every limb, finger, toe... her heart, even, developed near the very place my own heart beats inside of my chest. Those mountains of skin are all I have left to prove that we were once one and not two.

How can I be ashamed of that?

I have so much to say about seeing my grandfather's eyes embedded into the sockets, and under the brows and lashes of her father's. I see the 17-year-old boy I fell in love with, and my grandpa as a child all at once every time she looks up at me. She even wears my ears and my chin. The two very things I cursed having the most growing up. Not much makes me feel more beautiful than seeing tiny renditions of those same features on Anabel, and realizing just how special they are.

My body grew that.
Not everybody has that privilege.

Sure my belly is a bit softer nowadays, but the way it moves when I jump up and down sends my girl into fits of giggles. And yeah, my hips are hardly as narrow as they used to be, but they sure know the perfect figure-8 motion to sway her to sleep. My 21-year-old hair is even beginning to gray, but not much soothes her more than my hair between her little fingers.

I am not something flawless in the eyes of society, or even close to what I once was physically, but my perfect girl sees me for who I am.

To her, I hang the moon.

She knows my heart -- she knew it long before we met.

And she loves me for it.

I cannot tell you how much worth and validation I feel because of that truth.

My body is only a vessel for my spirit. An incredible vessel. It is strong, well, abled and undefeated.

My body is full of life.
My body is powerful.
My body made me a mother.

If anything, I was ruined by the world before I knew her, and she made me whole again.

This post originally appeared on We Seek Joy

Some phone pictures.

I managed to do something to Lisa's hair. It lasted less than a minute. In case you were wondering why she always has wild hair. 

Our morning routine. We the girls chill for 20 min. before we go have breakfast

When Daddy makes it before Lisa goes to bed we read stories together. Lisa has to hold her blankets and the baby

Ella had a visit from two of the volunteer who used to walk her before we adopted her from a rescue group. Georgia Homeless Pets. She is a very spoiled girl, which make up for the fact that most people are scared of her since she behaves so bad on a leash. At least the volunteer know better. She is the sweetest

Lisa "reading" a book from the  Dr. Seuss collection Grandma and Grandpa Anthony sent her

Silly selfies

Ella also got an extra bed from her fans and Lisa loves it. So now they fight over it. Lisa wins every time

My beautiful nephew Roberto. I am so excited to see him again