myspace-diabetes5I am a diabetic. Adult onset, diagnosed in my mid 30s. I suppose it was inevitable. My mother was diagnosed in her 30s, my brother in his late 20s, and I had gestational diabetes with one of my pregnancies. Just one of them, the middle one, which is fairly rare. That pregnancy resulted in my only son, who arrived weighing in just 4oz shy of 10 pounds. My girls were 7lb7oz and 7lb5oz. After he was born, I weighed 30 pounds less than I when I became pregnant (I was at least 20 pounds overweight going into it) just from the diet I was on and the exercise of being pregnant and chasing a two year old around.

Starting off as a pretty cuddly, big baby boy (we won’t mention his super cute double chins or thunder thighs here or he will be embarrassed); MacDougal grew to be an averaged weight toddler. He was still usually bigger than most kids his age, being tall and big-boned. Around age of 9-10 he became larger than the other kids his age. He was physically active, ate the same food as my other two, and was generally very healthy. He even played football from pee wee to freshman year in high school. But he was still a big boy. I know it bothered him and I know other kids taunted him, although he never complained. He had regular check ups and was often tested for diabetes, as I often reminded his pediatrician of the family history. He was never even considered borderline and he often would have growth spurts of height that would make him appear very healthy.

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