Thursday, June 2, 2011

D-Mom Army

Yesterday I spent most of my day waiting in line. It was definitely not one of my more favorite activities to be doing. I had to go to a mass registration at Emma's gymnastics club. They do this once a year to give people who aren't current members the opportunity to join and sign up for classes. Which means that everyone and their brother's cousin's neighbor is standing out there in line trying to secure their desired spot in the class their kid wants. Well, I dropped Emma off and school and made my way over to the club feeling pretty confident that it wouldn't be that busy seeing as how it was a Wednesday morning and most people should have been at work. So, I turned the corner only to be bombarded with the sight of a lineup of cars and people worthy of rivaling a Greatful Dead concert lineup. Not impressed. I heaved a huge sigh of despair and parked the car and made my way to the back of the line. Some teenage boy coach walked up to me and gave me a number and a registration form to fill out....I was number 186...not good. For the next 2 1/2 hours I stood in line outside of the building shuffling along at the sloooowest pace possible without actually moving backwards. I forgot to grab a coffee, I hadn't showered yet, I was still half asleep, and I had nothing in the way of entertaining myself while I waited with the rest of the pathetic parents out there.
As usual, when I am bored and trying to find ways to pass the mind tends to wander. I stood there thinking about how happy I was that Emma wasn't standing there with me because waiting in long lines with a 7 year old is never fun, I had nothing in the way of snackage on me, and boredom and long lines tend to mess with her blood sugars. I thought about all of the things that I could've been doing at that point and all of the things I would have much rather been doing instead. In any case, time kept on ticking away as it always does...and I eventually made it inside the building. I handed in my registration form and secured our spot for her class. I made my way to the payment line.
While standing there I happened to glance over across the room and instantly recognized a woman standing all by herself. I knew her through JDRF. I knew her son has diabetes. I knew her face and I could not for the life of me remember her name! This is a common occurance for me these days with my lack of sleep, so I simply waved and when she waved back I said like the moron that I am, "I know you from JDRF, right?" She said yes and asked me how my daughter was. It was probably no longer than a 10 minute conversation.
I left there that day though feeling pretty amazed and completely forgetting about my irritation at having to stand in such a long line. I found it interesting and really special that there I was standing in a crowded room and my eyes zoned in on a woman who for all intents and purposes lives a life very similar to my own. She deals with the same things I do on a daily basis. She knows the terminology. She knows the drill. She "gets it". Same-same. It made me realize that I need to stop living in my own little neck of the woods so much. I need to realize that we are out there...we are everywhere...we are like a D-Mom army of sorts...battling it out every single day no matter what happens or how we feel or what needs to get done. We all have a common keep our kids as healthy as possible for when that cure is found. We all do it for the same reason...because we love our kids more than anything in the world.
I wonder if she left there that day feeling that same warmth and same-same feeling that I had. Diabetes is a horrible thing to say the least...but I am truly honoured and greatful to be a part of the D-Mom army.


  1. Me too. The army is comprised of the strongest and most courageous people I know. xo

  2. Hu-rah! (said in the most military sort of way!)
    I am proud to stand shoulder to shoulder on the front lines with this amazing group of moms, dads, and pwd!

  3. I bet she did feel the same!

    And I, too, am grateful for this wonderful, supportive, strong army!

  4. Those sorts of encounters always give me "warm-fuzzies". It's so nice to have that reminder that we're not alone. And I agree with Reyna...this army is indeed made up of the strongest, most courageous people!