I spend a great portion of each day crying. I do my very best to do it when they aren't around. Rowan has enough on her plate without assuming responsibility for my tears. I cry when they're at school. I cry in the car doing errands. I cry at night when I know it's safe to do so again. I cry falling asleep.... I sometimes cry IN my sleep.
I cry for Rowan's present circumstances, I cry for her future. I cry for the uncertainty and the permanency of it all. I cry for a way of life being forever altered and gone.
I cry for having to hurt Rowan with daily injections. I cry for it being the only way to keep her alive. I cry for the quality of life she may or may not ever know. I cry for there not being a partner in my life that I can look to warily and say "Do you think you could get this one for me?". I cry that it's always me. Absolutely always.
I cry for being absolutely overwhelmed and under supported.
I cry knowing the many impacts Type 1 diabetes will have on Rowan's long term health, but I also cry for the uncertainty of what this is doing to me and my long term health. I cry for the head full of grey hair's that weren't here ten months ago. I cry freaking out that if this will suck the colour out of my hair, what else is it going to suck out of my life? I cry knowing it could very well one day take Rowan away. I cry knowing that I could never survive that, and then I cry for my other daughter who would be left behind picking up the broken pieces of a family.
I cry for the responsibility this has heaped on her. On both of them. The diabetic and the "Other Little Mother"
I cry in my heart when she's testing her glucose and people say to her "Oh, you're too young to be having to do that". I cry that she was never given the choice.
I cry knowing that one day, we will have become so accustomed to this new life, that the tears will no longer fall. I cry knowing that's going to take so tremendously long. I cry because we aren't anywhere there yet.
I cry for a million and one different reasons. Some huge, some small. But my tears are always the same size. Monumental.
Woman, Independent Parent, Artist, Advocate, Artifical Pancreas.... and EVERYTHING in between.
I am blessed to be parenting two beautiful girls, ages eight and eleven. My youngest nearly lost her life at age six (August 2010) to diabetic ketoacidosis: an often fatal consequences of undiagnosed type 1 diabetes. This is OUR journey: raw and sometimes, uncensored.
Thank you for visiting wishing good health and a cooperative pancreas to you and yours.
I am blessed to be parenting two beautiful girls, ages eight and eleven. My youngest nearly lost her life at age six (August 2010) to diabetic ketoacidosis: an often fatal consequences of undiagnosed type 1 diabetes. This is OUR journey: raw and sometimes, uncensored.
Thank you for visiting wishing good health and a cooperative pancreas to you and yours.
Showing posts with label Tears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tears. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
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