As I sit here typing this, I am totally and completely full of panic....my stomach is twisted and tense, I can't stop biting my bottom lip (a la Kristen Stewart in Twilight...lolol), I have never been this scared before in my life. I just dropped Emma off at school. Today is pump start day (everytime I say that, I feel like I should have some guy standing behind me blasting a trumpet or something) and we went to the hospital first thing this morning for her to get hooked up. As usual, I pulled out my best "material" and tried to make Emma laugh the whole way there just to ease some of her stress and fear. Little did she know that I was freaking out on the inside too. That is yet one more thing diabetes has taught me...how to be funny and make her laugh while on the inside I feel like I am one slight breeze away from slipping off the edge into crazy town. Anyway, we parked the car and made our way inside. As we walked along, I glanced down at Emma. I was taking a mental image of her in that particular moment in time...I wanted to remember what she looked like...i wanted to remember what my little girl...my heart...my soul...my reason for breathing...looked like for the last time without a pump attached to her. (UGH...here come the tears...it's hard to type with tears falling and blurring my vision!) It all came crashing down on me that I would never again see her without the pump. I would never again see her looking the same way. From this moment on, she would always have tubing attached to her and a pump clipped to her belt. It makes my whole heart hurt.
We walked into the nurses office and sat down in the same chairs we sat in when I had to give her her first insulin pen injection on the day she was diagnosed. What a full circle moment for me...nearly 3 years ago I sat there feeling the exact same fear and worry and stress. I talked with the nurse and prepared the infusion set with shaking hands. I was aware that Emma was watching me very carefully...I felt like she was trying to see if I was scared too...I felt an enormous amount of pressure to take a deep breath and steady my hands just so I could put her mind at ease and make her realize that her Mommy was confident (even though I wasn't) and that her Mommy would make all of this ok.
Emma barely shed a tear when I put the infusion set on. In fact the thing that bothered her the most was the sticky skin-tac stuff I had to use on her belly...she didn't like how her shirt kept sticking to it. I know I have said it many times before, but she is my hero. I looked at her standing there...pump attached now...and I realized that I will probably live the rest of my days here on this Earth and not ever come close to having as much strength and bravery as she does. She is amazing to me. I never knew what it meant to really love or to really be proud or to really admire someone until I had her.
We left the hospital giving each other high fives and giggling about random things we usually talk about. We went home and I gave her lunch...she bolused herself...it felt so strange to me to not give her a needle. In fact it still feels strange to me...i feel like I have forgotten to do something...I feel like I am doing something wrong. It is definitely going to be a hard habit to break in not giving needles. I LOVE not giving them to her, but it will be hard to let that go. When lunch was finished I drove her to school and dropped her off. I explained and stressed to her how important it is to make sure to pay attention to her body and catch the possible lows and highs. I told her how important it is that she needs to speak up and tell her teacher or another adult immediately if she feels "off'. I kissed her sweet little face goodbye and told her how much I love her and how much I am proud of her. I watched her run off on the playground to join her friends at lunch recess. And now here I sit...having an inner battle with myself...trying to fight off the terror and worry...tell myself that it will be ok...she will be fine...worried that she won't be...worried that she will be low and pass out...worried that something horrible will happen and the last kiss goodbye I gave her was actually the last one....I love the pump, but I hate diabetes...I hate what it does to us and I hate how it makes me feel when she's not with me. I hate being scared and feeling like I have no control over anything. Ugh....here I sit watching the clock keep moving ahead...slowly....
I can do this...I can do this...I have to do this...I have to do this...I WILL do this...my baby will be fine.