It has been almost a decade since my daughter was diagnosed with Type 1.
Like most incredible life events, I remember it as clear as bell, I can replay the scene in my mind and the days running up to it with perfect clarity.
(Which is ironic, as I cannot remember where I put my car keys on a daily basis.)
The booking of a doctors appointment to confirm a nasty case of thrush in my six year old. The weight of six months of bed wetting prior to that, that we had determined as normal owing to a house move.
The doctor when she asked me if I knew what Type 1 diabetes was.
The shame when I realised, as an educated woman, that I knew it was something to do with sugar and that was that.
The enormity of overwhelm when I realised this was something that I could never “fix” as a mum, I couldn’t give Calpol and wait for it to go away. No plaster would cover the wound, it was a lifetime condition and one that needed 24/7 care.
For months, I struggled with the grief for the loss of a childhood, I worried life would never be normal, I fretted for the future.
A decade on, I wish I could reach back to that woman, and tell her everything was going to be ok.
I had one of the best of the best nurses, who affirmed to me from day one, that it would be ok. Yet, I chose the hard path of finding out for myself.
With hindsight, this is what I would tell myself.
Jane,
I see you, I feel you, and I totally understand your fears. What happened to your family is enormous, your daughter has been given a challenge to bear and rise up from. However, what happens now, is on you.
Choose your path, choose to let this condition dominate or accept it and live alongside. Opt for a mindset of optimism, rather than despair.
Know the risks, and know the best ways to manage.
But live, and let her live.
Don’t panic about sleepovers – she will have them – you may have bags the size of mountains afterwards, but she will only know fun.
Yes, you will sleep again – although I am never going to be so daft to promise it will be undisturbed.
Make sure she loves theme parks, queue jumping is one of the only benefits of Type 1
Normalise the none normal, talk about it for days, prepare yourself for when she tries to not be diabetic.
But above all, find your way to cope. Build a network of friends, find souls to support you. Educate friends, family, teachers and strangers on the street about Type 1 – knowledge is powerful.
Grieve for what once was, and for what now is. Then wipe away those tears, pick up the mantel of motherhood and carry on doing the best you bloody can.
Look to a future of normality attached to an insulin pump.
Don’t expect it to be easy, raising kids is often far from being so. Expect it to reward you in ways you never dreamt possible, and savour each unique Type 1 parent achievement.
Remember, everything is going to be ok.
A decade is a long time to learn from a teacher who doesn’t take a single day off.
Be kind to yourself.
Upskills others so you can rest, because you are important too.
Remember, everything is going to be ok.
Love an older, greyer, Jane – mum to Molly, who annihilates the Type 1 gremlin every day
Resilience is a skill that can be learnt, and patience one to be mastered.
If you are new on your journey with Type1, you have my full love and support, its a tough road, but manageable at all times.
It is going to be ok.
Can you help me?
I am creating a free masterclass aimed at helping families who have had a child diagnosed with Type 1, cope with the pain of diagnosis and help them learn to live a happy life. I am currently doing some research into this, and would love if you could spend 4 minutes filling out a questionnaire about your experience. If you leave your email, I’ll ensure you get a free copy of the training. You can answer the short questions here.
Thank you in advance
Jane x