When I was ten years old, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It happened like this. We went on a family trip to the beach, and I came back with diabetes. Well, that is the short version of the story. The friends that we were with at the beach had a daughter with diabetes, and when my sugar was checked, it was obvious I was too. I always felt like that is when my life started. I can remember telling my mom, that I was glad it was me. If anyone in our family was going to have this, it had to be me; I was the only one tough enough. In a ten-year-old mind, I had an allergy to sugar.
As I grew I never considered having children very seriously. I figured my life would be like that well known movie, Steel Magnolias. It was much later when I decided that I loved someone enough to work out all the details of being a diabetic and pregnant. It was at this time, that I also associate with my committing my life to God, and surrendering to His control. Never in a million years, did I ever count on having the wonderful daughter I have today.
Tonight, I tucked in my sweet four year old, and prayed many thanks for her great health, her caring heart, and her precious smile. I am overwhelmed by the incredible gift that she is to me. The Lord has blessed me beyond what I deserve, and all honor and glory goes to God the father.
As the new school year approaches, I am a little melancholy over the fact that my precious baby will be in K4. The time has flown by so quickly. Each day I marvel at the new things she learns and even more so at the things she repeats. I think everyone should have children, because they are the fasted way to see your personal bad habits! She says things sometimes, and I have to stop and ask myself, “Do I really sound like that?” Then I never know whether to laugh or cry when she imitates wearing my insulin pump, or tells me, “Mama, I think I need juice because my blood sugar.” She also often has to check her sugar and constantly asks when she is going to get her insulin pump. Through the eyes of a four year old, I am sure that the buttons and alarms are fascinating!
Contrary to the sadness, I also feel the sweet relief of back to school. Back to school, means back to a regular routine! Growing up, I hated routine. As an adult I relish in it, I count on it, a routine makes my life and my blood sugars work best. In all honesty, I look forward to a few hours of silence. My child inherited my talking, and although it seems foreign to me, there are days, when I WISH for silence!
On Monday, we go to meet the teacher. I told her tonight I was going to take lots of pictures. I am notoriously bad at remembering to take pictures. Time is moving so quickly I want to remember these days, when she wants me to go with her and hold her hand. I fear the days of let me go are approaching us faster than I can imagine. For now, I will have to settle to be out on the gymnastics floor, with a scared kid, a chubby adult surrounded by 3 and 4 years olds, trying to do the splits!