Ugh. On the wings of my oh-so-confident "we can do it" post, I have a day like today. I've been a mess.
It started out okay. Yes, your numbers were a little low when you woke up, but not awful. Grandma called to get your readings for the doctor just after breakfast. As I was giving them to her, you started to wrestle with your older brothers like you love to do. Somehow you fell and took a good bump to the head on the carpeted ground. You cried, I checked things over (still on the phone) and Kendra picked you up to hold you. A few seconds later, I noticed you go completely pale. Ghostly pale. Lips disappeared completely, blending into your white face. Your eyes dilated completely and rolled back, your body limp. I'm freaking out at this point and grabbed you. Grandma on the phone is giving directions, telling me to put your head down, to get your circulation going. Breathing, yes, but unresponsive, at least for a moment. I've seen this two or three times before with you (this being the worst so far), each time when you've hit your head. The hit has never been extremely hard, but I think the shock factor of it causes you to faint. This happened to my twin nephews when they were young too (which have now developed to very infrequent seizures). I don't think it is related to your diabetes at all. But it did wipe you out for a while afterward. You had to lay on the couch for a good half hour. So is this just another blessed genetic trait you've inherited? Am I supposed to put you in a glass box and tell everyone to stand back or else you might break? I think I'll have to talk to your pediatrician about it. I don't think I can handle one more scary thing with you or I'll scream! You have not helped Mommy's heart much today. Stop scaring me!
I think you have officially begun your honeymoon stage. Just the word should generate feelings of bliss and joy, right? So why do I dread this stage so much? Your numbers have been low, which should be a good thing for a diabetic. Truth is, lows frighten me. Especially since you are only 2. We've adjusted your ratios again in hopes that you won't drop too low. We also don't want you to creep up to the scary highs too. A happy middle ground is what we are seeking.
I've had an outpouring of support come through today. It couldn't have come on a better day, as is evidenced in the above paragraphs. I needed the words of encouragement from friends, neighbors, even complete strangers. I love it. I welcome it. Thank you to everyone. It's not sufficient, but thank you. I hope to repay the kindness someday, somehow.
Sleep sounds really good right now. So, please little T, no more fainting, no more lows. At least for tonight. Mommy is tired. I'll tackle the giants tomorrow, but for now, I welcome sleep.