She gets me.

When you are a mom of a child with Type 1 diabetes all you have to do is meet another mom of a child with Type 1 diabetes and you instantly know, “She gets me.”

We live in a pretty large town. In our town there are several children living with Type 1 diabetes. I do not know them all, but I do know the two other boys that go to the same pool as us in the summer. I am friendly with the moms, but it is more than that. We share something that no other moms at that pool share. We are moms of boys with Type 1 diabetes, and we get each other.

We don’t sit together. We don’t eat lunch together. Our boys run in different circles. Some days we say hello, and some days it’s only a nod in the distance. But however great or small the communication is on any particular day, we all know the strong connection is still there.

As I walked into the pool this morning, children, towels, beach chair, cooler, meals, and snacks in tow, one of the other moms looked at me and yelled, “We just hit 38.” That’s it. Just three words and a number and my heart sank. I knew exactly what she meant and exactly how her mind was reeling thinking about the rest of her son’s day.

Not many people would understand, “We just hit 38.” If I yelled that out in Shop Rite people would surely begin whispering behind my back (more than they do already). And all this mom had to do was look at me and say these words and I knew.

I know because I live it. She didn’t have to explain that was a blood glucose number. A very dangerous glucose number at that. She didn’t have to explain that she was petrified that the glucose number wouldn’t stabilize and he would begin to have a seizure. She didn’t have to explain that with all the swimming and exercise from camp his numbers have been running on the lower side. She didn’t have to explain that he was eating Oreo cookies to treat the low and hopefully make him feel well enough to go on to camp for the day. She didn’t have to explain one single thing to me. I know it all because I live it.

When I go running to tend to my six year old for whatever reason, her eyes meet mine on the way back to my umbrella. She is checking to make sure everything is okay…really okay. Not in the same way that the other moms do either.

She is thinking if my son’s sugar is stable. She is thinking if my son’s pump is working properly. She is wondering if my son went too low where he needed assistance. She is thinking all the same things she thinks when she tends to her 10 year old son. She gets me. I don’t have to explain one single thing to her. She gets me. She knows it all. She lives it too.

Type 1 diabetes is a disgusting, annoying, terrible chronic illness that our son’s have to live with day in and day out. It is nice to know that just a few umbrellas down from mine there is someone else who knows exactly how I am feeling, without me uttering a single word.