Friday, June 10, 2011

We can do this. YOU can do this.

The worry began the day my first son was born. Let's face it, worry and babies go hand in hand.

But that was the kind of worry you could head off with cautiousness. It was the kind of worry that you didn't stay up at night with.

The new kind of worry...the helpless kind...well that came the day J was diagnosed.

Seeing him on the table in the emergency room with a swarm of doctors and nurses shouting orders and worried acronyms...well that is when I found out what I was made of.

At the tender age of 24...I hadn't found my center yet...and when it came to worry, I was spineless...or at the very least, a rookie.

Once I saw my baby seizing...well, I had to leave. I was hysterical. I could not be there.

I spent hours in the waiting room sobbing and pleading with God. The guilt I felt for not being by my baby's side still haunts me to this day.

As time went on, I wasn't much better. I remember when J had an ear infection a few months later, and we were in the emergency room flirting with ketoacidocis. (Back in the day, Baby + Ear Infection + Crappy Insulin = Hospital.) J was admitted and my mother in law came because I just couldn't be alone.

I remember so vividly sitting on the chair in the room clutching my legs, watching my mother in law stroke J's cheek over and over and over again. She was so calm.

She was an angel if ever there was one.

And there I was sitting across the room...consumed. CONSUMED in worry.

I wondered that night if I could ever handle these situations with such loving grace as my sweet mother in law. She was always so level about everything. She took things as they came, and never complained.

That night in the hospital, all I could think about is I wanted it to be over. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to die in a worry coma. It took every ounce of strength I had to console my baby who muttered over and over and over all night long that he just wanted to be home too. I wondered if I was cut out for this. Could I be a "good" mother to a child with diabetes? Could I raise him to be strong when I couldn't even be strong myself?

Man, I think if you would have told me that night that eventually I would have three boys who have diabetes...I'm sure I would have died on the spot with worry palpitations.

I look back at myself then, like watching an old movie, and I want to hug myself. I didn't believe in myself then.

I want to tell me that I am strong enough. That I CAN do this.

I was so scared and alone. I wish I had the DOC then to hold my hand and give me the strength that it gives me now.

You can do this are powerful words. And now there is a powerful project that I am proud to be a part of.

Wonderfully is called the, You Can Do This project. (I'm in this video and have my cry face on for my 2 seconds of glory, so no judging!)

It is being launched on June 15th. All you need to do is video yourself, or blog if you aren't comfortable taping yourself, and tell the world your story and what you have learned, or even just what you have lived.

Your story needs to be heard. Your story MEANS something.

Knowing we are not alone in all this is the biggest/best gift the world can give.

This project hands that to you in a big red bow.

Please visit Kim's blog, Texting My Pancreas to learn more...

And then start taping.

Because together, we can stenghten our backbone, we can find our axis and balance the worry within our lives.

We can do this!

Share the project with everyone you know. Let's make this huge! Let's let the world know that THEY can do this!

For all the mothers sitting in the hospital with their babies...I'll tape for you.

For all the parents who are reading this blog and having a hard time right now...I'm doing this for you.

For all of you that have buoyed me up in the hardest of times, (bloggers, readers & commenters, that's you!)...I will participate in this project in honor of you.

I pray I can give back even a small measure of what you have given me.

Together, we CAN do this!


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