I'm feeling a bit off this week. Strike that. More than a bit.
I have a nagging feeling that this first half of February might forever be like this, so I might as well start getting used to it, right? There are just times of the year that are more emotionally loaded. This time has steamer trunk sized baggage. I try to stay positive and all that, but it's hard to fight the urge to get sucked in to a bad place right now.
I know that it's temporary, and that no one is going to suffer too much if I hang out in my hole for a few days. In fact, in a lot of ways, it's probably just better for me to avoid other humans when I'm like this. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I got a reminder of something I didn't particularly want to be reminded of a few nights ago, and it's put me into a bit of a tailspin.
I will be okay. I'll be fine. It's what I do. Just take whatever I say with a grain of salt for a few days....trust me.
I spent all morning at the doctor with my son, who shall henceforth be known as limbo boy. His blood sugar issues are still around, the swings on the pendulum are getting bigger, and there's nothing official about a diagnosis that says that he might someday be diagnosed but isn't yet. We could be here, in limbo land for months. We could be here for years.
There is no crystal ball for this stuff.
I talked to his nurse practitioner about the fears I have about sending him out into a world that has no idea what to do with him, the world where even his doctors and parents don't know what is wrong. She tried her best to reassure me, knowing that there is nothing at all reassuring about being in this place we reside in right now.
So, now, we wait. Again. We keep testing. Again. We watch and listen and worry. Again.
Diabetes, you can suck it.
For the first time in my tenure as mother, I wanted to keep my baby home from school today. I won't say which baby and I won't go into details as too many people around these parts read this, but believe me when I say that kids are horrible little monsters to each other sometimes.
As mothers, we want so badly to make things right for them. We want to heal their injuries and solve their mysteries and right their wrongs. We want to tuck them under our wing and bring them in close and protect them from all the evil in the world.
But we can't.
We can't make people kind. We can't cure diseases. We can't mend relationships for them. We can't make the things they struggle with magically disappear.
We can listen though. We can hold them when they cry. We can help them try to navigate this cruel world. We can promise them that we'll always be in their corner. We can engage the adults who care for them at school, tell them what is going on. Trust that we have another set of eyes and ears for watching and listening, another set of wings for tucking if need be.
This morning was hard, being a parent always is it seems. Sending them off into a world that scares me is bad enough, but sending them into one that they are afraid of hurts more.
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