Now I wouldn't say being on the pump is exactly 'normal' to those living without juvenile diabetes. To me, normal is sleeping in on Saturday morning, roasting marshmallows with my kids and not fearing that the golden puff would even touch my lips, much less swallowing it, and the freedom to not panic when my husband isn't home exactly at six for dinner.
I was three months pregnant with my first son when my diabetes educator, Sue, a pump user herself, suggested the idea. I was already on three shots a day and was told it could go up to as many as eight shots. Back in the early eighties, the pump had a bad rap. There was a high rate of infection associated with its use, among other problems. A doctor that once visited Camp Ho Mita Koda bluntly stated that under no circumstances should anyone ever go on a pump. I looked at Sue as if she had lost her mind.
I left her office that day with a video and an information pack. When I got home, I read one paragraph in the pamphlet and decided to try it. The paragraph told a story about a woman who slept until ten a.m., drank a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper, went to her parents house for a family gathering, and while waiting for a late brunch, she played volleyball. Nothing extraordinary unless you live with diabetes. With those few sentences, I envisioned a completely new life.
Looking back now, I suppose I should have waited until after my son was born. My pregnancy wasn't perfect and, at times, I wished I hadn't started on the pump. Almost a year later, I got pregnant with my second son and wow, what a difference! I'd had the time to really adjust to the pump, fine-tune it, if you will, and the experience paid off. My second son came early due to my high blood pressure, but if not for that, it would have been perfect. Although at one point, my A1C was 5.9, the norm was 6.5 throughout the eight months.
