September 23, 2008

We go to eleven.

Sunday marked the anniversary of the day I married my best friend- the person who thinks this nerdy girl is cool, who loves so freely and honestly, and who is without a doubt the most supportive and giving person in my life.

Over these past eleven years, we have weathered storms and celebrated huge victories. Shared inside jokes, and personal pain. We've laughed till our stomachs hurt, cried till tears would no longer fall, and held each others hand as we walk together through the very bumpy terrain of life.

I wouldn't change one single moment.

September 19, 2008

The reality of it.

Running away from the whole diabetes thing seems so appealing as of late. I'm sure anyone that's been affected by diabetes in it's many forms can commiserate with me. At around 4:30 the other morning, Noah crawled into bed with us, feeling low. Normally, I don't get worried when he's low- we just go through the motions of testing, juicing and re-checking in a robotic sort of way.

This time though, I could hear a whisper of fear in Noah's sleepy voice as my husband tested his blood glucose (it was tough even getting any blood...his fingers were so cold that morning) first once, only to get an error message, and then again. Not one to usually complain, Noah let down his guard down, and quietly exhaled, "I hate pricking my fingers"...

I hugged him close, and reassured him that it's okay to feel that way from time to time, and that we're so proud of him for putting up with all that he does every day.

Noah's frustration over that morning's testing didn't stay with him for long. He followed through with his day with his usual exuberance, and happiness that I love so much about him, but for me, that sinking sick feeling of not being able to "fix" my child wouldn't stop it's nagging. How I wish I could chase diabetes away, protect him from it, or take it on as my own. He never gets a break. His fingers and pump sites always hurt. He constantly has to plan, and put aside the spontaneity of youth. It worries me when the cracks in Noah's diabetes armor start to show. Even though it's been 3 years and counting, I still feel like like a diabetes newbie, and I don't always know the right things to say or do when it comes to helping him navigate life with d.

How do you push through the rough times?