I was an IDM (Infant to a Diabetic Mother).
It's no secret I was born to a mother with diabetes, but it's only recently that I discovered there is a medical acronym for an infant born to a person with diabetes: IDM, Infant to a Diabetic Mother.
The Children’s Hospital of PhiladelphiaWhen I was born, I came out with a host of challenges: crooked feet, extra and missing vertebrae, small for my size being five weeks early, risk for high temperature, jaundice, and low blood sugar. I was quickly put in intensive care, given an IV, placed in an incubator. In medical terms, I had hypoglycemia.
I'm very lucky in seeing there is a detailed day-by-day account of my birth. My Mom kept a journal, a running log. But in it, there is no connection to my condition with diabetes. I clearly had some of the top complications of an infant born to a birthing mother with diabetes.
My insulin was likely compensating for higher-than-normal amounts of glucose — blood sugar — I got from Mom through the placenta. She hadn't made insulin for over a decade at this point, being diagnosed with diabetes type 1 at 15. She relied on injections of lab-made insulin. Even with good management, frequent monitoring and well-timed injections (something Mom was doing with syringe self-injections in 1988) her blood sugar was likely high — marking the need for my body to generate more insulin.
So, when I came out, my insulin production was too much — while leaving the life support of my Mom's body, I suddenly didn't have as much glucose to shuttle around. I was out of the glucose storm. This resulted in my insulin crashing my own blood sugar low.
This is commonly known in medical circles, but I was unaware how common or know it was until recently. Pregnancy is hard — even more so if you have diabetes. It's easier to manage diabetes now, compared to the late 80s in rural Wyoming where Mom had me. But Mom pushed through despite her challenges — many might have not embarked on such an adventure. I pulled through those mysterious first few hours and days.
If I had been conceived decades later, perhaps I would have come out with less complications. But then again, if I had been born decades earlier, I might have not have ever made it.
If I hadn't had the mother that I did, who wanted a baby more than anything and didn't want diabetes to stop her, I definitely wouldn't have been here, or been so loved. I believe Mom did the best she could in the context she was in. Perhaps her blood sugars could have been lower during pregnancy — most certainly — but Mom wasn't purposely making it hard. She was fighting her worse tendencies of letting blood sugar ride high within her while also working hard to keep it low with minimal tools, little in way of support.
It was the love though that broke through. "Very cute, very sweet," Mom wrote at the end of the long list of medical challenges. I only exist because of her love; her deep desire to bring me into existence, her deep desire to ignore advice against pregnancy, to face the challenges of managing blood sugar.
The Children’s Hospital of PhiladelphiaBeing here in 2024, this story also reminds me we should give more women access to medical care, medical education, and child-labor care. Knowing creates calmness. Love creates calmness — I advocate for more systems that generate both.
P.S.
A couple other related things to check out:
Another study on this:
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And Cory Doctorow's thoughts on optimism. Why hope is a better option over optimism.
Cory Doctorow
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