I have been feeling so grateful for my life and my little family. After such a hard three years and Frank's diagnosis last October (10th at 5:10pm if you wish for more detail) there have been some dark times. It takes a long time to adjust to having a child in the first place and bringing my two year old, wholefood-fed boy, home from three days in hospital after a shock diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes was like having a new born again. Is he OK? Is he breathing? Did I hear him moan? Maybe I can just stay awake and watch him all night? Maybe if I cry enough it will reverse itself just like Alan Rickman coming back to Juliet Stevenson in "Truly Madly Deeply". So, I cried. I did the whole howling , snotty-faced bit and yet he still has Diabetes. Bugger.
Then something strange happened. I began to take on board that this was about Frank and not about me. Sure, I was horrified, and in some ways remain so. But I can deal with this now and can offer my boy as good a start and be as supportive a Mum as possible.
One day at a time and it seems less freakishly enormous a deal. He fell asleep this evening having had "The Enormous Turnip" read to him three times and then asked for it to be told to him in the dark as he drifted off.
You see even when nearly asleep he makes healthy choices! What a star.
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