Today my little man is 9 years old. Yes, 9. Can you believe it? For those who have been following along with this blog since the beginning, he was 3 when I started writing it.
It’s strange how certain events bring diabetes to the forefront. As I’ve said before, most days diabetes is way in the background. There are the “agghhhh!!!” moments from time to time; like night before last when I had to change his needle at 3:30 AM and he begged me not to as he stood there with sleep in his eyes. But, as usual, he took it all in stride. He let me change his needle and then lay down to sleep with his hips slightly askew as not to lay on the now tender spot where I had just jabbed him with a needle. While all that was not fun, it was just one of the many things that come up every day when you live with Type 1 diabetes.
But, today, the day that I celebrate bringing my child into this world, things seem a little harder, a little rawer somehow.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not feeling like doom and gloom today. It’s a happy day. Riley is elated. He is having a birthday party with his friends after school and a few of them are sleeping over tonight. He is really excited about the sleepover.
Tomorrow we will be having a family birthday party. That is when he will find out that we will be flying to Disney World next week for his birthday. I’m so excited about that and know that he is going to be thrilled about it.
I think what it comes down to is that you can never just be with this disease. Every birthday, every Christmas, every great family vacation, diabetes is there. It has to be factored into everything. And, while most days it’s second nature to do so, some days, like today, it’s just exhausting. I know the other parents of kids with Type 1 understand what I’m saying; like I said, not trying to be doom and gloom, just venting a little.
On the way to work every morning I have prayer time. I turn off my radio and just pray. Today I did my usual prayer for safely for my family. I prayed for those who have recently lost loved ones as well as those who are sick or having surgery today. And, I prayed a special prayer thanking God for letting Riley make it to 9. Morbid? Maybe. But, I know I am blessed that he didn’t die at diagnosis. I am blessed every single morning when I tiptoe into his room and see his little chest rising. And, most of all I am blessed that God chose me to be his mom.