Diabetes is by no means a black and white, cut and dry, true or false disease. There is no manual stating that if "x" happens...then do "y" and "z". There is nothing for certain...nothing set in stone...nothing that we can rely on 100% of the time. We as members of the diabetes family are forced to live in the gray area of life. Like it or not, we are made to guess on things that could affect the health and well-being of our child or ourselves if we are the ones that are diabetic. We walk around on a daily basis living in that foggy, blurry, uncertain land in the middle. Sure, as the days turn into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years...we are able to recognize patterns in how our bodies behave. We are able to guess with a little more confidence. We are able to make the more bolder moves and choose one of the options we are given with a bit more ease than in the beginning. That being said though, diabetes is still not a cut and dry disease. Things happen for no apparent reason. Wacky high blood sugars appear on our meters...mocking us...taunting us...making us feel like failures and leaving us sitting there scratching our heads and wondering where we went wrong. Diabetes is a fickle bastard sometimes and we are forced to just ride it out and deal with things as they are thrown at us. It's not fair, none of us asked for this life, all of us would trade places with our kiddos and take this disease from them in a heartbeat I am sure...but we can't. So here we sit, living in the grayness. Fortunately for all of us though there is one bright shining beacon of light breaking through that gray fog. We have each other. We have other D-Mom's all across the globe that are there for us. They are there to offer advice, give support, comfort us, and help dry our tears. We are all part of the same family now. I look around on Facebook (watched an amazing video tonight actually about this) and see pictures of my fellow D-Mom's and Dad's T1 kids. I read posts that their parents share about things they have accomplished, things they have done, things that make me laugh, things that make me cry. I look at the pictures of their sweet little faces and I see my own daughter. I see the bravery and the endurance that is needed to live this life. I see it and I am in awe of it. I am in awe of them. When I read about another T1 kiddo struggling with depression from this disease, my heart aches...I want to scoop him up in my arms and comfort him...dry his tears and make it all better. I want to hug his Mom and make it easier for her. When I see videos of a newly pumping little girl getting a site change, my heart swells with pride as I see her enduring this pain...and sharing her experience with the world and helping others trying to decide if the pump is right for them. I want to hug her Mom and look her in the eyes and let her know that I think she is amazing. I want her to know that her and her sweet girl are my heroes. When I read about another T1 kiddo trying out wearing a CGM (continuous glucose monitor) because he has had more than enough seizures from low blood sugars while he sleeps because his body will not wake him up to the low in time to drink juice and attempt to fix it, my eyes well up with tears. I want to give his Mom a hug and send her off to a nice quiet bedroom to sleep for as long as she needs to...and let me keep watch on his blood sugars and stay up all night to ensure he doesn't have another one. I want to help them. I want to fix it.
So here we all are shining on. Letting our light flow out into the gray befuddled mess that is our life. Our shared life. If you ever need my light to help you see clearly once again...I hope you know that I will always shine it your way...and I know you would do the same...because we are a family...and that's what families do.