Sunday, June 26, 2011

3 years ago today

3 years ago today Emma was diagnosed with diabetes. 3 years ago today I thought the tears would never stop falling from my eyes. 3 years ago today I thought that I would never stop mourning the loss of our carefree life. 3 years ago today I learned what it truly means to be scared.
I answered the phone call from the doctor telling me to go to the hospital with Emma immediately...and our lives were forever changed. It took that split second to turn my world upside down. I was so naive. Emma looked so normal to me. I was in denial. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and yet way deep down in my heart...I knew. Way down in that core part of my soul that few people ever get to see...I knew.
3 years ago today that innocent version of myself died. 3 years ago today that well-rested and virtually worry-free version of myself died. 3 years ago today I stole my 4 year old daughter's innocence when I uttered the words "Emma, you have diabetes" to her. 3 years ago today I injected my child for the first time...I stuck a needle in her arm and gave her the insulin that her little body could no longer make on it's own.
I learned that it is possible to turn sorrow into strength. I learned that there is absolutely nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for Emma. I learned that in the face of heartache and fear, I will still continue to heart will continue to beat. I learned that it beats for her. I realized that complete and total despair is no match for the love I have for Emma.
In these past 3 years, I found out that I am a lot stronger than I ever thought I was. I found out that even when my brain is telling me I've had enough and I just can't keep doing this anymore...I will still keep marching on. I know now that it is entirely possible to have a hero who is only 7 years old. I know now that it is entirely possible to admire a 7 year old and her bravery and strength more than any one else on the planet.
I've learned that it's ok to feel weak. It's ok to cry. It's ok to be angry. I've learned that tomorrow is a new day. The sun will once again rise. The clock keeps on ticking. I've learned that sleep is something to be cherished. It's ok to hope. It's ok to believe that a cure will come. I've learned the true meaning of patience. I've learned that I'm not a perfect pancreas substitute. Diabetes is not a black and white disease. We have learned to live in that gray area...we live in it and not only do we make it work, but we do it in style.
I've learned that it's tremendously important to not let diabetes define our lives. We were Mommy and daughter...Amy and Emma...long before diabetes came along, and we will continue to be Mommy and daughter long after diabetes is finally kicked out of our lives for good.
Happy D Anniversary to you my sweet girl. I held you in my arms 3 years ago today and told you that everything would be ok. I consoled you and wiped away your tears. I held your hand in mine as we walked out of those hospital doors beginning our new life with diabetes. I want you to know that even if you are 77 years old and there's still no cure, I will still hold you in my arms and promise you that everything will be ok...and I will mean it. I will still console you and kiss your tears away. I will still hold your hand in mine as we walk through this life. I will be there for you no matter what...simply because I love you.


  1. Oh, I have chills and tears! (and for some strange reason am thinking, great, now I have to shave my legs again tomorrow because chills always makes my hairs grow! WHAT?!?!)
    This is such a wonderful many poignant lines that just hit me and had my shaking my head in agreement.
    Thank you for sharing your heart and love for Emma. You are one amazing mom!

  2. Also, three years ago on this day you began your journey in which you've taught a whole lot of people about living with diabetes through your writing online and everyone who doesn't have diabetes in their family is better for having learned from you. You do a lot more than just take care of your daughter.

  3. very beautiful. Emma is lucky to have you as her pancreas and Mom.