Two years ago, our world changed.
What started as a trip to the pediatrician quickly turned into a diagnosis that would forever become part of our family’s story. Hearing the words “Type 1 Diabetes” attached to your child is something that is impossible to prepare for. In an instant, our lives became filled with finger pokes, insulin injections, carb counting, blood sugar checks, and a whole new language we never expected to learn.
I remember feeling overwhelmed, scared, and completely uncertain about what the future would look like for Kay.
Two years later, I still don’t have all the answers. Diabetes continues to keep us on our toes every single day. There are still sleepless nights, stubborn highs, unexpected lows, and moments that remind us just how demanding this disease can be.
But there has also been so much growth.
Over the last two years, Kay has shown a level of strength and resilience that amazes me. She has adapted to things that many adults would struggle with. She wears devices on her body, gets site changes, endures countless blood sugar checks, and somehow continues to smile, play, learn, and simply be a kid.
And that has always been our goal. We never wanted diabetes to define her.
We wanted her to go to birthday parties, enjoy treats, make friends, attend preschool, dance, laugh, and experience childhood just like any other little girl. Diabetes may come along for the ride, but it does not get to take away the things that make life special.
These past two years have taught me more than I ever expected to learn. I’ve become an advocate, a researcher, a carb counting expert, and someone who can make medical decisions in the middle of the night while half asleep. I’ve learned to celebrate numbers that most people would never think twice about and to find victories in places others may not see.
Most importantly, I’ve learned that we are stronger than we ever knew.
To everyone who has supported our family throughout this journey, thank you. To the friends, family members, medical professionals, fellow Type 1 families, and complete strangers who have offered advice, encouragement, or simply listened, your support has meant more than you’ll ever know.
And to Kay.
You continue to amaze me every single day.
You are brave. You are strong. You are resilient. You are so much more than a diagnosis.
Two years down. A lifetime to go.
And we’ll face it together, one blood sugar at a time.