Monday, November 18, 2013

Cry Baby

Cry Baby


As I’ve mentioned before and as any D-parent has felt, today has been one of those emotional cry-baby days.  I’m not exactly sure why.  I cannot explain why sometimes a thought can pass through my head unscathed, and on another day, the same thought brings me to tears.  Fatigue and stress probably play a huge role, but those go hand-in-hand with Diabetes. Today was really no different.

On Mondays, Aiden has Runner’s Club after school.  Every Monday, I go to the school and either run with him or sit on the sidelines and wait for him.  The teacher who runs Runner’s Club has been trained by the school nurse as an Unlicensed Diabetes Care Assistant (or whatever they’re called), but when I met him, he looked like a deer in the headlights and seemed incredibly relieved when I told him I would be there most of the time.  It’s what Aiden wants to do; I want him to be able to do it; and, I want him to be safe and everyone comfortable.  So, on Mondays, we run.  Sideline pancreas, right here.

For whatever reason today, as he was participating in RC, I started thinking of upcoming things in the next couple of weeks.  As soon as Thanksgiving is over, it’s time to go have their A1Cs drawn.  The quarter after that….  That’s what got me.  The quarter after that…’s been TWO YEARS since Aiden’s diagnosis.  Two years.  Two. Freakin’. Years.  Two years of shots, insulin, highs, lows, meters, strips, appointments, pumps, A1Cs, glucose…you name it.  Two Years already?  Two Long Years.

Tears just started falling as I relived again how scared and helpless I felt those two years ago.  I watched him running with his peers, and I thought of how he could’ve been taken from me.  I thought of all that Diabetes demands. The sleep deprivation, the stress, the fact that I am the only parent who HAS to be there…because of Diabetes.  Then, I felt a little silly for crying again and tried to dab my eyes on my jacket.

When I got home, a glimpse in the mirror caused more tears.  I’m tired.  My eyes tell on me.  This is so draining for a parent, physically and mentally.  It’s aged me tremendously inside and out.  There is not enough make-up to hide the circles or disguise the fatigue.

Finally, the twins had their Third Grade Program.  They don’t like being in the spotlight, so I was so proud of how they participated whole-heartedly on their program.  Asa kept doing the wrong hand motions, the opposite direction of his classmates, which made Jace and me giggle.  Aiden was trying hard to sing along and not look embarrassed.  They were so danged cute.  And…the tears fell again.  Drip, drip, drip.  Again, so humbled by the thought that I could have lost them both.  Humbled by the thought that any major screw-up on my part could hurt them, and they’re still vulnerable. So proud of how much they have grown and how handsome they are.  Proud of how much they have accomplished despite Diabetes tagging along. Sick to my stomach to think we have dealt with this for almost two years.  I dabbed my tears with my jacket.  Even when they drive me nuts, I cannot imagine my life without any of my children.

When they are grown, perhaps they can know and will understand the emotional toll this disease takes on this Mommy. Right now, I do not think it’s fair to burden them with that.  They have enough to think about.  As we walked out, Aiden said, “Were you crying?  I saw you wipe your eyes on your jacket.”  Great.  I’m busted.  How do I explain?

Before I could respond, wise-guy Asa covered for me and said, “She was probably crying…Boo hoo, those are my babies, boo hoo!”  Yep.  You got it, son!  Close enough.

Now, as I type, the tears are falling again.  Quietly sliding down my face.  I want to talk about it, but it will only make it worse. I don’t want the boys to see me cry; I don’t want to appear weak to my husband or any of them.

Being a parent is challenging.  Managing Diabetes can be an ass-kicker. Put the two together and it’s more than Hercules can bear some days. We are doing well, but it is hard.  And, it makes this Mommy cry.  Still.  And, I think it is normal.  I hope it is okay.

Time to go wash that jacket.


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