Defeat isn't real

Victories happen all over the world...every second of every day. People reach insurmountable goals and achieve greatness all the time. It's a fact.

In my opinion, defeat is non-existent. Defeat is something we tell ourselves when we feel like we are too tired...or too weak...or too small...or too...whatever. We tell ourselves these things and we whole-heartedly believe them in that moment. Other people might even tell us these things. They might scoff at our lofty dreams and snicker behind our backs at what they consider to be something silly. However, defeat is not real. Defeat is not an option. Defeat is non-existent. It's simply a moment in time where we must choose to continue on or wait a while longer and wallow in our setbacks.

In this life with diabetes, I feel defeated all the time. A strain of ugly blood sugar numbers...a failed pump site...a combo bolus gone awry. I feel like a failure when I see the effects of my mistakes all over my child's face...the dark circles under her eyes...the shaky hands of a low blood sugar...the tiny holes in her fingertips from countless blood sugar checks as I battle yet another high blood sugar. I see my own defeated feelings mirrored back at me in her eyes. I see it...and I feel it...but I am NOT it. I'm not defeated anymore.

I kicked ass at being her pancreas today. I have been battling high blood sugars for what seems like forever...due to seasons changing...the hormones of a ten year old body...the randomness of summer day schedules. I have felt like a failure a lot lately.

But not today.

Today I won. Today we won.

Today was a victory of epic proportions in my eyes.

So I am writing this to acknowledge those of you out there who might have been feeling the weight of defeat...and those of you who won today as well. I raise my glass to you and smile in silent victory...together. It's a quiet victory on the outside as we sit here after midnight...but it's a sweet victory. A hard fought win. I'm proud of you for sticking it out. We may stand in solidarity in the wee hours of the morning...meters and lancets in hand...squeezing blood from our babies fingertips...but we stand as one together in spirit always and forever...and for that I'm greatful.

Our shoes

So, I haven't blogged in a while. As we were driving to the beach today, I started thinking about it actually. I wonder if I've said all I need to say about diabetes for now? I wonder if my heart and my mind has somehow found some sort of peace with it finally? I wonder if I've just gotten to the point on this journey where more of my mind is focused on living and making memories with my kid...that I just don't really focus on the diabetes aspect of things as much anymore?

I mean I still think about the numbers...I'm sure I always will. I still get that panicked tightening in my chest when she has a dangerously low blood sugar...like she happened to have this evening in the deodorant aisle at the grocery store...and I had to open a bottle of soda and hand it to her...haul her into the cart because she could barely walk...and quickly finish our job of checking out and getting home. I still feel it. I still don't like it. I still worry.

But it's just not always at the forefront of my mind anymore.

LIFE is.

LIVING is.

I look back at how far we've come and how long we've been on this journey and I'm amazed that we've made it. I'm amazed that we've survived the insanity. I'm proud of us.

I look forward and...yes...I worry...I wonder what sort of obstacles we will encounter up ahead and how many times my heart will skip a beat at an ugly number...how many more site changes she has yet to endure...how much longer we will have to wait for that elusive cure. I look ahead and I wonder.

Yet, for now....right here...in this moment...I'm ok. We're ok. We are living and laughing and learning. I stand here at this spot on our path and look below at my feet and I see acceptance. I see strength. I see two feet firmly planted below me...and her two feet beside me. Our shoes are worn and slightly tattered....but they are still bright...still sturdy...and they still have plenty of miles left in them.