So today was bloodwork day. For those of you not in the know, I have to take Emma every three months to get bloodwork done before her diabetes clinic appointment. They do some mystical magical tests on the blood they squeeze out of her finger and come up with something called an a1c result. It is the measurement of what her average blood sugar number was for the past three months. Ok, it's not really magical...but it is mystical to me because I've never really googled how the heck they do the test or what the process is of analyzing her blood. It's been explained to me once, in simple terms, but I can't recall how to explain it at the moment because I am running on four hours sleep...because my husband is a snorer...but that's beside the point...perhaps a tale for another day.
Anyhoo, I took her to the lab in the hospital and the technician lady that took her blood noticed all of the calluses on Emma's fingertips and all of the tiny holes from five years worth of needles being jabbed into them. She looked at my daughters face...looked at me with sadness in her eyes. It wasnt pity...just sadness...and she remarked how brave and strong Emma is to endure this everyday. It was a moment I have witnessed quite a few times over the years honestly. I'm always left feeling a mixture of pride and sadness. Pride at the reality of it all...my daughter is brave...she is strong...she is remarkable in dealing with this disease day in and day out in the manner that she does. Sad at the reality of it all...sad that the tiny holes and calluses are even there...sad that they are noticeable and a daily reminder of the fact that she has to have needles jabbed into her tiny innocent so young and so strong fingertips every single day.
Once again, I'm left with a torn in two feeling about diabetes.
Something happened this evening though that made me feel whole. I took Emma to the park near our house after dinner to play. She brought her scooter along and rode ahead of me on the path. I saw her hair flying behind her and smiled...she's a kid...she was doing something every kid does...flying along on her scooter to the park. We decided to check out the skate park area and I asked her if she wanted to ride her scooter on it. She said that she was scared because she had never done it before, but wanted to check it out anyway. We sat down on the edge of the bowl and watched all of the teenage boys riding around doing tricks. Emma wanted to try it more than anything in the world at the moment but she was worried that she wouldn't be able to get back out of the bowl once she rode in. I told her, that if she wanted to try it, she should try it....don't worry about getting back out...I would help her if she needed help. No sooner did I say those words, and she was off and into the bowl...scootering around...laughing and proud of herself for not falling. I sat there on the edge of the bowl watching my daughter....riding her scooter over top of bright and colourful graffiti...a smile on her face brighter than the setting sun behind me. Her shadow riding along behind her. I saw the teenage boys looking over at her and smiling. I don't know what they were thinking...but in that moment I saw them look at her and appear surprised that this little 9 year old girl was riding in there all by herself...smiling...smiling at another kid having fun.
I saw my daughter having fun. She was being a kid. I felt whole and happy and complete and diabetes had absolutely nothing to do with the scene that was playing out before me. I was proud. Proud of her willingness to try something new. Proud of her ability to jump right in to the unknown without a second thought.
In that particular moment, I was just a proud mom enjoying a summer evening with my kid. The most beautiful things in life happen during those in between moments...those unplanned stops along the way...that's where the good stuff happens...that's where life is lived and true happiness is discovered...right in the middle of the in between.