One Month Later

One month anniversary. 

Though as I sit here, it seems pretty hard to believe. 

You are one month older.

Mom and Dad are unwillingly wiser

about this disease called diabetes.

30 days.

There have been many, many tears

panic attacks (for Mom)

over 100 insulin shots

highs

lows

never-ending record-keeping

and yet,

somehow we manage to find unscripted smiles

and frequent bouts of laughter.

Because try as it may

diabetes will never kill our spirit,

our love,

our determination to beat this thing.

Yes, there is no cure.

But that doesn't mean we will let it manage us.

We will never,

EVER

let it get the best of us.

Deal?

On a surprisingly brave day, I took you kids to Seven Peaks Water Park.

All five of you!

It was proof

that I can still do hard things.

And you know what?

It really wasn't that bad!

(I did have help, however, thanks to a good friend.)

Sure, I tested you about half a dozen times,

and your BG rode high the entire time for some baffling reason,

but we made it!

It was one small step forward,

hope for our future.

Wanna know the best part about the last horrendous month?

Watching how people have rallied around you,

particulary your older siblings.

Golly they love you.

Kendra has learned how to test your blood glucose level.

Alli has learned to count carbs.

Andrew will scoop you up and carry you to me when you fall.

And Colby, only five, has learned to watch for your lows.

One day as we drove in the car, Colby said with an edge of urgency,

"Mommy, Ty dwopped!  His wevows dwoopped!"

I looked in the rearview mirror to see you

drowsily drifting into a heavy sleep.

(He had clearly listened when we reviewed the signs.)

I knew I had just tested you and your "wevows" were fine,

but it brought a sudden lump in my throat

and tears to my eyes.

Like I said,

loved.

Now and always.

Diabetes or not

you are one special boy.