Today I choose to re-post a post I put up on my former blog, www.linesmyk.blogg.no, just after our Melodie was diagnosed with type 1 Diabetes. I still cry while reading this. The feelings are just as strong today as they were then.
So now I am going to tell you the truth. You may agree or disagree with me, either of which is perfectly fine, but this is my truth.
Children. Having children is the single worst thing you can ever, EVER do to yourself. Emotionally. Imagine it. You have created a tiny little person – a little you – who you will have to look after. Suddenly you’ve got two. You and little-you. Imagine if you have more than one. You have to look after you, little-you and even-littler-you.
I have two. And they are both the most amazing, fantastic, beautiful, charming girls in the world, and I love them so. So much it hurts.
Just think about it. With children your live becomes an emotional rollercoaster, one that I don’t think ever ends. I have spoken to grandparents, and although their children might not always play a big part in their everyday lives – they still manage to get spun around on the old Em’Rol.
It might start the day you find out you’re expecting. Maybe you’re happy, surprised, nervous, maybe even a little sad. Maybe everything at once. And then you go on for the rest of the pregnancy having hissy-fits at the mailman, or crying over spilt milk. Nervousness, excitement, happiness and fear are all emotions one can through. And there is so much more. Imagine the day you buy the first clothes. Come home, unpack it, look at it, touch it, imagine little baby in it. It is special. You might cry, laugh, shake your head or all of the above. It is intense.
Did you think the Em’Rol was intense being pregnant? HAH! The truth: It only just begun.
One day the little one sees daylight for the first time. If I were to start explaining the emotions that have gone through my system delivering my two little ones, I would never stop. It is crazy. Your life is filled with emotions, not just your own, but your little ones as well. And they have lots!
And as time goes, you become an emotional wreck! The first time with a runny nose, or a cough – call the nurse, mum, have the ambulance on speed-dial – just in case!
Worries. Endless worries. About pretty much everything.
Sleepness nights when they finally sleep, because you cannot keep your eyes off of them.
Words. Can not describe the level of proudness when words are spoken for the first time.
And the fact that you could not care less – and absolutely LOVE – about the sloppy, sandy, snotty kisses you receive.
Oh, and not to mention the oh, so mixed feelings the first time they reject you and choose someone else, even for a minute.
Being able to laugh loudly when the tiny one laughs – just because they laugh.
I can not talk enough about how much I love the little ankle-biters that I have the absolute pleasure of being the mother of. Everyday I explore these irrational emotions I did not even know I had before I had children.
Having children is the worst thing you can do to yourself emotionally. But it is by far the very best thing I have ever done – and I would catch a ride on a new roller-coaster every single day, as it is totally, absolutely, utterly worth it.
This is why I am now crying. And I am angry. Parts of me wants to sit under the covers and cry all night long until someone tells me it is over. But I wont, as noone will.
One of my little babies is not with me now. She is with her daddy in the hospital. My little Mel is sleeping, but not in her own cuddly bed at home, where I can go in and watch her sleep. She has her own little room in the childrens ward. And I am not there.
Friday. She was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. And we had to go straight to the hospital. My poor little baby will have to have insulin injected in her every day for the rest of her life. And it sucks. Oh, and excuse my language, but it fucking sucks!
Reasonable, sensible, smart Line knows that with the right treatment and knowledge and experience, people with diabetes can and do live perfectly normal lives where they do not ‘miss out’ on anything, and can and will go on to do amazingly great things.
But emotional, mummy Line. All she sees is the little three-year old who suddenly has to do these things without a clue as to why and how, and I do not know how to tell her that this is going to be her forever. And ours.
You would’nt even know. She does not look, act or sound sick. We tell her: “This is going to make you feel better” – when she feels great. How do you tell your child there is something ‘wrong’ with her? I have been looking at her today – as I do every day. And she is somehow more perfect now, than what she was a few days ago. I can not explain it.
So my brave, little girl is going to be in that hospital tonight, with an amazing dad by her side. I know I can’t be there every night with her, It is selfish.
Selfish, as I have another baby girl that needs her mum, too, and I need her. And I need to show her that even though these few days are a little different, nothing has changed between us.
Selfish, as Simon cares just as much for Melodie as I do, and denying him the right to stay there with her and show her care as well is just cruel.
Selfish, because Melodie needs her mum, but I am no good to her if I do not get any proper rest and time out.
Selfish, because I need to be allowed to react. Because I can not do it in front of her. Because now, with my little beauties sleeping, I can cry until my eyes go sore, by myself, and get some of it out of my system before I go back tomorrow with the brave smile back on my face.
So now I go to bed, to wake up to a new day tomorrow. A day full of just as many ‘I-have-no-idea-what-we-are-doing’s and ‘I-am-so-confused’s and ‘I-know-it-is-scary-honey-but-it-will-only-hurt-for-a-second’s.
If only I could take over. If I could put myself in that bed, give myself the diagnose and not her. If only it was that easy.