Sunday, June 30, 2013

Happy Diaversary

I think about this blog daily.  In my runnings around, in my quiet moments, in the moments when I want to scream about the frustrations of diabetes knowing this may be the only safe outlets to my emotional ramblings.  Ty, tomorrow is your "diaversary".  July 1, the day that we discovered you had Type 1 Diabetes one year ago.  The day we took you to the hospital.  The day our lives changed.  There couldn't be a more fitting time, to resurrect this blog after an eight-month hiatus. 

Much has changed.  Much has stayed the same.  I just can't believe it has been a year.  Your diaversary.  The word is a weird word.  It underlines in red even now because, quite frankly, it's not a real word.  It's not all that easy to say either.  I joined a Facebook T1D support group right after your diagnosis and this word, "diaversary" is talked about quite frequently.  To many in the diabetic community it is a day of celebration. It is a day when parents take their T1D out for ice cream, given gifts, celebrated if you will, as a way to "stick it" to the disease. When I first heard it, and the traditions that many parents have started with their T1D, I'll be honest, I thought they were crazy.  Who wants to celebrate the day that brought so much heartache, tears, anger and change?  I don't!

It was as time passed, and the nearing of this one-year mark for you/us, that I began to understand.  This year that, in hindsight, I would never, EVER want to repeat.  It has been a year of so many questions, so many trainings of all things diabetic that I didn't want to do but I knew I HAD to, a year that put you in the hospital three different times, a year that felt like we were walking through thick, black slop, where as soon as I saw the other side of the riverbank and felt like we were making ground, the black sludge stopped us in our tracks and pulled us down for yet another reality check.  Yet, somehow, some way we trudged on, pulled ourselves up onto that lush green riverbank, surrounded by all that is living.  That's when I grab you up into my arms, squeeze you hard and kiss you all over your face, happy that we pulled through the muck together and that we too, are living.

I finally see the reasons to celebrate.  Tomorrow we celebrate you, your bravery and health. A year ago, you were a very, very sick little boy, lethargic, irritable, not wanting to eat anything but drink everything, losing weight by the minute and urinating through your diapers every 20 minutes. A year ago, part of you was dying, being killed off by your own little body. Doesn't make much sense, does it?  But guess what?  You made it!  You made it through your first year, which, from what I hear, is the toughest year to get through.  You've tolerated hundreds of shots, site changes, and finger pricks, which at your age is not small feat. You've grown 4.5 inches and put on over 12 pounds! You are playfully energetic (almost too much so!). You are a happy little boy, still drawing everyone in (yes even strangers) with your likable personality and charm. Your A1C has come down to 7.5 and the doctors and family members say you are a vision of health. 

So, how will we celebrate?  I decided to celebrate your special day differently.  I'm throwing a neighborhood dinner as a way to raise money for the upcoming JDRF Walk for the Cure.  All money raised will go toward research, in hopes that you and millions like you, will not have to live with this disease the rest of your life. All who are coming know you and love you and will come to celebrate your life with us. Lots of work to prepare for tomorrow and I'm hoping for a good enough turnout that I can make this our new tradition every July 1. What do you think? It will forever be a special day in our lives, not one to be mourned, but one to be celebrated. Yes, tomorrow Dad and I celebrate that you are still here with us because there were at least a few times this last year where we weren't so sure you'd be able to stay with us. 

So thanks for staying with us.

Happy 1 year Diaversary Ty-Ty.

Let's sit in the green a little while together.