Day: July 25, 2009

To my baby boy,

Two years ago this awful disease of Type 1 Diabetes invaded your body. Although I wish I could erase that day from my memory, it has remained a permanent fixture in my thoughts. You were so brave that day, walking into the unknown. As we walked 3 blocks to the hospital you actually skipped. The irony that you were skipping into the hospital that would give you news that would strip you of your innocence was not lost on me.

Yes you cried in the hospital. We both did. But from the moment you were diagnosed until this day 2 years later you remain the picture of strength. You are the bravest little boy I know. You don’t care about diabetes, it doesn’t get in your way, you are just you, perfect in every way.

Sure, you know you have diabetes, I mean, you do get your sugar checked over 10 times a day, but those are just bumps in your road. They are mere pit stops on the way to the diving board, or to the basketball court. Nothing about diabetes consumes you. You live every minute of every day to the absolute fullest.

I am in awe of how you take every thing in stride. From lows to highs to bad sites to bad insulin, you just roll with the punches. More like kicks in the face as I look at it, but regardless, you just deal and move on.

You are my hero. Not because you have diabetes, anyone can have diabetes, but how you own your diabetes. You are in charge of yourself, diabetes is merely something you have. You are NOT diabetes, you are a fantastic little boy. I thank the stars every day that I was the lucky woman chosen to be your mom.

You are my world. You are my heart. I would not be me if it were not for you.

I love you,

Mama

To my baby girl,

Two years ago you were just that, a baby. You were only a little over 2 years old when your big brother was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I left you for the first time in your short life to go and stay with him in the hospital. I don’t know what I cried about more, being in the hospital or being away from you. Our family had never been apart, and diabetes was getting in the way of that.

What a little trooper you were from the beginning. You instinctively knew in your heart when I had to help brother, that I was not ignoring you, I was just helping brother.

You are part of our team. You are so smart when it comes to brother’s diabetes. You know when he gets candy it is because his number is low. You are even starting to learn what numbers we strive to maintain. You are the smartest, most compassionate 4 year old that I know.

I know you give up a lot for brother’s diabetes too. I know you don’t understand diabetes and why sometimes brother needs to do some extra blood tests, or eat an extra snack, but not understanding does not hinder your compassion. You sit with us during the extra blood checks, you stay with us during the extra snacks, sometimes even having one yourself.

You are the best daughter anyone could ask for. I’ve known from the minute you were born and I found out that you were a girl that I was the luckiest mommy in the world  to be chosen to be your mama.

Your strength and conviction inspire me. You are the most self assured little girl. You are a no nonsense, very hysterical type of girl. I find you very amusing. You treat brother’s diabetes in the same way. You are very no nonsense about it, in fact, many of your babies have diabetes to. You have adopted an ‘it is what it is’ motto, and I know that will help you and your brother both in the long run.

I used to say you were born to be your brother’s co-pilot, and I still believe that. He needs you just as much as you need him. You make a great team. I love you little girl.

You are my world. You are my heart. I would not be me if it were not for you.

I love you,

Mama