This morning I made myself a promise. Today is the last day I eat whatever I want. Tomorrow I go back to the rules I made for myself when I was pregnant, and I'll see how fast I can bring my blood sugar down this time.
I've known since March 2025 that my numbers were bad. My doctor's office ran tests, and they came back in the diabetic range. They wanted me to come back, but I didn't go. They half thought the tests were wrong, because they had no medical history for me. It was my first visit since moving back from Sweden, where I had lived for 16 years.
That day I told myself I would change and follow my rules again. But I wasn't ready.
The year before, my dad died of cancer. It was an awful experience that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, and I was with him for his last week. Afterwards I didn't grieve. I threw myself into a new education and tried to forget. I think the grief stayed inside, eating at me. I hate crying, so I try not to, and I try to be strong.
So I followed my rules on and off. That really doesn't work when you eat candy and Danish pastries in between, maybe just to escape from the world for a while.
I still haven't really grieved, but the pain is easier now. So I've promised myself to try again. To keep myself accountable, I'm using this blog. I'll share the ups and the downs, because hey, I'm not perfect, and I will slip up.
Today my blood sugar was 15.7mmol (283 mg/dL) after a roll with cheese, two slices of chocolate cake, and nothing to drink but Pepsi Max and coffee. Now, as I write this two and a half hours later, it's 10.2mmol (184 mg/dL) and slowly coming down.
Tomorrow, day one.
P.S. Bread is the thing I miss most. When the craving hits, I make my Simple Chaffles instead.
This is my personal story, not medical advice. Please talk to your doctor or midwife before changing anything, especially if you are pregnant or take medication.
← Back to the blog
