(Betsey with her cousins from Florida Callie and Macklin at Christmas)Often times I plug away at my daily grind, aware of all my children and their whereabouts; be it at school, home with their daddy, or at friends' houses and I don't have a constant worry. There can be hours I go through my day and not think about blood sugars and how to better them and the daily duties of diabetes for Betsey.
I never, ever thought that day would come.
Ever.
And I selfishly like those hours of uninterrupted thoughts that tend to lend my mind to more "Meghan-specific" things like: When will I sit and sew again? Or, I can't wait to start school next month! Or, I wonder what I'll do on my Free-Friday this week?!
Meghan thoughts. Not Mommy thoughts. But thoughts for Meghan. Which hasn't happened in such a long time. 17 years really. And I like it. It's pleasant. And refreshing. And invigorating. Much like a shower after beaching it for 3-4 days straight sans showering - a secret love of mine.
I received a phone call today. The voicemail left for me was eerily similar to the voice I hear that I had almost 6 years ago now when I left a message for another type 1 mom after Betsey's diagnosis.
Panic. Fear. Disbelief. Sadness. Loneliness. Emptiness. Confusion. A sense of losing it. Any minute. On the cusp of falling apart.
A local mom called me because she had just left the hospital with her daughter, newly diagnosed type 1. Devastating.
It flooded back the feelings and emotions that I went through when Betsey was diagnosed and I actually logged on to re-read Betsey's diagnosis story. This mom was so fragile, just as I was. Her voice and her words were me, completely, as I tried to navigate my new world with diabetes in the forefront, knowing nothing. All the information the hospital tossed at me went in one ear and out the other because my main focus was survival. Survival for Betsey. Survival for me. Survival for my family.
I cried on the phone with her. I felt somewhat foolish and unguarded, but I couldn't refrain. Those few weeks trying to dissect diabetes and how to deal with it, were emotionally and physically exhausting, and talking to this Mom brought it all back. It's never far. My recent "Meghan Thoughts Moments" are great, and almost a vacation from my real life, but every once in a while it's reeled right back in and the emotion never gets less raw.
Diabetes Sucks!
It's always good when you can give it back. I feel fortunate that someone can reach out to me, as a mom with a child with diabetes, to commiserate with. To ask questions to. To reach out to. It's all I was looking for when Betsey was diagnosed. It's vital to your mental health. Your soul.
Just as I've realized my recent "Meghan Thoughts Moments" are. Good for my mental health. Good for my soul.
So with this, Christine - I want you to know, it'll be OK. And your daughter will be fine. And you will live again. And she will too. And oddly enough, you'll probably cry more than her. And that's a good thing. And I'm here for you.
xoxo
I never, ever thought that day would come.
Ever.
And I selfishly like those hours of uninterrupted thoughts that tend to lend my mind to more "Meghan-specific" things like: When will I sit and sew again? Or, I can't wait to start school next month! Or, I wonder what I'll do on my Free-Friday this week?!
Meghan thoughts. Not Mommy thoughts. But thoughts for Meghan. Which hasn't happened in such a long time. 17 years really. And I like it. It's pleasant. And refreshing. And invigorating. Much like a shower after beaching it for 3-4 days straight sans showering - a secret love of mine.
I received a phone call today. The voicemail left for me was eerily similar to the voice I hear that I had almost 6 years ago now when I left a message for another type 1 mom after Betsey's diagnosis.
Panic. Fear. Disbelief. Sadness. Loneliness. Emptiness. Confusion. A sense of losing it. Any minute. On the cusp of falling apart.
A local mom called me because she had just left the hospital with her daughter, newly diagnosed type 1. Devastating.
It flooded back the feelings and emotions that I went through when Betsey was diagnosed and I actually logged on to re-read Betsey's diagnosis story. This mom was so fragile, just as I was. Her voice and her words were me, completely, as I tried to navigate my new world with diabetes in the forefront, knowing nothing. All the information the hospital tossed at me went in one ear and out the other because my main focus was survival. Survival for Betsey. Survival for me. Survival for my family.
I cried on the phone with her. I felt somewhat foolish and unguarded, but I couldn't refrain. Those few weeks trying to dissect diabetes and how to deal with it, were emotionally and physically exhausting, and talking to this Mom brought it all back. It's never far. My recent "Meghan Thoughts Moments" are great, and almost a vacation from my real life, but every once in a while it's reeled right back in and the emotion never gets less raw.
Diabetes Sucks!
It's always good when you can give it back. I feel fortunate that someone can reach out to me, as a mom with a child with diabetes, to commiserate with. To ask questions to. To reach out to. It's all I was looking for when Betsey was diagnosed. It's vital to your mental health. Your soul.
Just as I've realized my recent "Meghan Thoughts Moments" are. Good for my mental health. Good for my soul.
So with this, Christine - I want you to know, it'll be OK. And your daughter will be fine. And you will live again. And she will too. And oddly enough, you'll probably cry more than her. And that's a good thing. And I'm here for you.
xoxo
Meghan,
ReplyDeleteI know exactly how you feel everytime someone close to us((classmate or neighbor) gets diagnosed the greiving starts all over again. Good Luck to you Christine and family -it does get better :)