Recently I read an article about what diabetes looks like. It talked about different people of different ages, from children to pregnant women. It talked about how diabetes isn't the Big Mac meal and all the junk food people perceive with diabetes. It talked about having to give a 3 year old a shot every time they wanted to eat but not their sibling.....and that is when it hit me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. That has been our life for the last 7 years.
How did I forget the nightmare that's been my life for so long? Did I forget or did I just choose to not remember because it's too hard? It's too raw? Too painful to talk about?
The last 7 years flashed before my eyes and there it was, the memory of holding down my 1 year old for the first time in a hospital bed learning to give shots. Me and my husband both holding her down as the nurse explains how to pinch up the skin to give the injection, pushing in the insulin and then counting to 3 before pulling out the needle and placing my finger over the injection site. My daughter was just over a year at the time, she was screaming and crying and looking up at me with her big brown eyes wondering why mommy would hurt her like that. My heart was breaking inside but I knew I had to block that out and just do it. I did it and I did it at least 5 times a day every day after that. It was awful!! So awful!
I remember "milestones" like the first time she didn't fight me doing it, or the first time she didn't cry, her 100th shot, her 1000th shot, the day she had officially lived more life as a diabetic than a non diabetic. When did I choose to forget these things?? It turns out I never really did forget. It's just that Pain became such a normal part of our lives I forgot it was pain. It was normal.
I really have forgotten how horrible of a nightmare this is because I never wake up from it. I've quit counting finger sticks and shots and most importantly tears. I've quit counting sharps containers I've dropped off to the hospital, I've quit counting her "poke" scars.
I've quit counting the BAD!!! And I count the good!!
I count the days I'm lucky enough to be her mama, and the nights she still wants to snuggle me. We've seen more good days than bad, more happy memories than sad, more strength than weakness. We've had MORE!!! More hours, more days and years than some people ever get. For that I am grateful! I am grateful for the pain because if there is pain I know we are still alive.
Guest blogger Asia Higginson is a super Dmom who teaches us everyday what it means to fight a good fight.