Sunday, August 17, 2014

Their Diabetes.

We’ve arrived in new territory.

I started this blog just over five years ago.  Five years ago my oldest was 14 years old.  J was 11.  B was 7.  L was 5.

Today, our lives are not what they were five years ago.  Not even close.

As I look down the dusty road behind us, I see an enormous amount of progress.  We’ve covered a lot of ground…five years ago isn’t even visible in the rear view mirror anymore. It’s more of a memory than a point of reference.

Things were harder for me then.  Diabetes-wise anyway.

Going from doing everything, all the time…to where I am now, blows my mind.

Case and point: This morning I woke up before the boys and checked their blood sugars as they lay asleep in their beds.  I grabbed one of the boy’s pumps to correct and couldn’t remember the last time I had it in my hands.  It had to be at least a few days before. 

Can you grasp the enormity of that?

Five years ago my hands were on those pumps upwards of ten times a day, each.  Easily.  Now, even though it’s like riding a bike, it felt a bit awkward to give him insulin.

It didn’t feel like my pump.  It felt like his pump.

As I sit here and collect my thoughts, and try to collect my emotions too, I realize that it doesn’t feel like my diabetes anymore either.

It feels like theirs.

Sure, I'm aware it was always theirs.  But for a season, I held the stewardship in my hands.  I stripped their burden bare and wore it on my chest.  Piece by piece they've taken that burden back from me.  They are heavy with responsibility now.

All the boys are doing their own set changes.  J has been doing the midnight checks for the past month.  The two youngest confirm carb counts with me, but when I’m at school, they count/SWAG on their own…and they’re doing a pretty amazing job at it.  The scale has tipped.  They are doing more of the work than me.

In fact, they are doing most of it.

It gives me pause to think where this blog will go in the next five years.  It’s been easy to blog about my diabetes…but now that it is theirs, things get a bit more complicated.

I can blog about my mistakes.  I can’t blog about theirs.  That isn’t my story to tell.

I can blog about my feelings about diabetes.  I can’t blog about theirs.  That isn’t my story to tell.

I can blog about my journey, but now that my boys are taking the lead…its time for them to climb their own mountains and tell their own tales.

No, I’m not going to stop blogging.  I have too much to say.

But my authority on teens and tweens with diabetes will be flimsy at best, as authority infers the power to make choices and enforce obedience.  My boys are old enough to make their own choices now, and we all know how easy it is to force teens into obedience…

I won’t go as far as to say I’ll be a spectator…but I’m a supporting player now. 

My job will be to encourage. 

To lift up. 

To rally. 

To enhearten. 

To praise. 

To buoy. 

To console. 

To applaud. 

And to fortify what’s been taught.

The road is bending and the scenery has become uncharted territory, but my boys fearlessly blaze their trails anyway.

Honestly, I’ve never been so proud of them as I am in this moment.


  1. Mi Meri,

    I have a blog for my son as well. He is six and right now I blog for him. I want him to see the things that were important to use when he was six and beyond. I read your blog today and I have to admit I am looking forward to the day when he can do everything him self but at the same time I am scared to death about the day he can do it himself. I totally understand that it is our story to tell for just a little while then it will be his story to tell. I wish I could take that burden from him and make it my story buy all I can do is be there to cheer him on and try to give him all of the knowledge that I have gained over the years. Try to deliver him to adulthood with the best health I can.

    Earlier this year his mother walked out on us for another man. I have to let him go to see her and it is frustrating that in the four years of her being part of the family that she never really learned how to take care of him properly. I look through his logs and see 300's, 400's and 500's all of the time. Sometimes for days. It is hard for me to hear that he doesn't want to go see her and begs me not to send him back. I try to remember that he is six and that he really doesn't know how to express himself right now. I think that he still loves her but he also knows that the other guy is the most important thing in her life. She gave up a lot to make that so.

    Sorry I didn't meant o get off on that tangent but this discussion does make me think more about him learning to take care of himself. I have really mixed emotions about handing off his care to him but I know he wants to do it as he already tries to convince the daycare and school administrators that he can do it all by himself at six. : )

    Thank you for sharing I do enjoy yor perspective on things,


  2. Meri!!!! I totally hear ya...from MINE to THEIRS is monumental! Life changing!! So, bitter sweet. Mostly, I feel bitter about it right now...ok, not bitter.....scared. Sad. Sad for the first time in a LONG time!!! Im hoping to feel proud like you soon.....its SO hard to filter through the emotions of what this all means. -Sigh-

    And to heart breaks for you, that's a VERY tough situation to be in. Im so sorry.....I hope you can soon find a balance for with your little one helping to lead in his care.

  3. So, what you're saying Meri is someday I too may be where you are at...WHOOOOOOO-HOOOOOO!!!
    Right now gettting all the details together for school is feeling overwhelming, but I know all will be fine.
    Thank you for being such an encouragement to me. Have a great week at school :)

  4. Our boy was 4 years old when he was diagnosed, he's now 12. We've gone from the heartbreaking reality of having to hold him down for those first few injections to this confident little guy who recently asked, "Should we up my overnight basal? I keep waking up high." There's this sense of panic - what if they do something wrong? - and it's not rooted in a lack of confidence in their ability, but some kind of fear that you've missed teaching them something.

    He is so much more brave than I was. These kids are nothing short of awesome.

    Thanks for this blog and the way you've shared. Wherever you end up taking this, the words you've left behind will help so many.


  5. You have always allowed your children to participate in their diabetes - That is such an amazing and wonderful gift!
    Owning D on their terms and taking more responsibly - And that's because of you. You have so much to teach others when it does to comes to raising children with diabetes - You teach me every day - And you share with me what my own parents would not - And I love you for it and learn from you, always.

    To encourage, lift up, rally, enhearten, praise, buoy, console and applaude. Monumental tasks, lady - Keep up the great work!! Xoxo

  6. It almost sounds like you're taking a moment to bask in the glow of well-earned accomplishments. I hope that's what you're doing. Those kids are handling things on their own because you showed them how.


Moderation now enabled, so comments will not immediately be seen.