Growing up in a small hometown, I was shaped and defined by the fact that I was “the girl with diabetes.”
While I might secretly wish that Isabella understood how different her life would be without T1D, it’s days like this that I’m reminded that she is not defined by this disease.
Awareness. Evaluation. Adaptation. These are the walls that parents of children with diabetes must deal with.
I DO have a full life. Sure, there are handicaps that prevent me from being at full strength, but the life that I’ve made for my family and myself is full.
I’m teaching my children that the evidence of my disease will not prevent me from living life, enjoying the gifts of heat and water and sunshine that summer gives us.
I can’t sleep because I’m scared my son might die.
It’s funny; saying it that way. “A child with Autism.” As if it were something she elected to carry around with her.
You see, a 4 year old doesn’t understand that without insulin, you die. A 4 year old doesn’t understand words like “incurable” or “chronic”—but they do understand that needles hurt and finger pokes sting.
I hope that when you read some of these stories from the lives of people and families living with Type 1, they will help you understand our battle better.
For a parent of a preemie or a child with disabilities, it means the world.