MY tired is nothing compared to HER tired

Sometimes I get tired
Tired of the numbers. Tired of the routine. Tired of the finger pokes. Tired of the insulin...the carbs...the ratios...the basals...the needles...the blood...the site changes...tired of the whole thing. I get tired of the late nights. The early mornings. The alarms on the pump for a low battery. The fact that I have to carry around so many supplies and treats and juiceboxes with me everywhere I go. The monotony. The never endingness. The guessing. The trial and error. The fact that I have to be patient and wait for a few days to see if I can find a pattern in her blood sugar numbers. The variables. The INSANE amount of things that affect blood sugars.
Sometimes I get tired of the worry. The watching the clock. The waiting. The sick feeling that invades my body and takes over every single thought in my brain when I am battling a low blood sugar that just won't seem to come up. The frustration at high blood sugars that come out of no where....no rhyme or reason...no valid reason as to why it should have appeared on the screen of the blood sugar meter...mocking me...shouting at me.
Sometimes I get tired of the ignorance. The countless times where I have felt like a broken record explaining over and over and over again that my child did nothing to cause this disease...that yes she can eat that cookie...that yes I know you think you would never be able to stick a needle in YOUR child's body. Sometimes I get tired of the pity in your eyes when you ask me if I'm ok...if she's ok...if she's better now...if her blood sugars are more stable finally...if she will grow out of it...and even when you tell me it could be worse. Yes I know it could be worse......but knowing that does not make it any better...knowing that does not make it any easier to deal with...knowing that doesn't make me feel like I should be ok with what we have been dealt.
Sometimes I get tired of always having to fight...to stand up...to speak out...to advocate...to stand up in front of a crowd and share my story...to open up and fight off that shyness and that feeling of my blood rushing to my cheeks as the eyes are all pointed in my direction...listening to my voice...listening to me talk about our demons. Sometimes I get tired of the stigma that comes with being a D-Mom. The stigma that sometimes seems like a tattoo across my forehead....that I did this...it's my fault...I must have done something....I must be exaggerating...I must be making it seem like it's worse than it really is. Sometimes I feel guilty for being tired.

Sometimes I get tired of being tired.
Sometimes I just want to stop.
Sometimes I just want to lay my head down on my pillow and sleep.
Sometimes I get tired of it.

And then I realize that my moments of being tired are numbered. My days of having the opportunity to be not only someone else's pancreas.......but my DAUGHTER'S pancreas.......are winding down. My chance at laying the groundwork and the foundation for her to live a long and healthy happy life....is running out. Right now MY tired is nothing compared to the tired she will have to endure for the rest of her life. MY tired is but a mere blip in the grand scheme of things. MY tired has an ending. MY tired has a finish line. MY tired is not forever.
HER tired? Well......HER tired will continue on long after I am gone from this world. One day soon, MY tired will become HER tired and she will have to carry that burden and that load and that exhaustion each and every single day for the rest of her days....or until a cure is found.

MY tired is nothing compared to HER tired.