Just My Son

So, I know I haven’t been at this diabetes-mom-thing for long, but in just a few weeks, I’ve noticed something that really bothers me.

In the groups I’m in and with some of the parents I have talked to, they address the illness before their child.

This is my T1…
My diabetic son…
Her non-diabetic sister…
My sugar baby…

I know this happens with any illness, disease, syndrome, disorder, etc., but it’s never been a group I have identified with. It’s never been a place where I was spending my time, trying to glean information on a regular basis. This is not the thought process I want covering my heart and mind.

This boy:

Come & Take It

This Lego-lovin’, Aggie yellin’, soccer playin’, baseball hittin’, Gator drivin’ boy is just that, my boy. My son. Our son. God’s precious son. He is neither defined nor limited by this diagnosis. God has a divine plan for his life; I believe that with all of my heart. A good friend told us when we were still in the hospital, “This will alter your life, but it will not end your life.” Yes.

Maybe once we have a few years under our belt, or a bad night, or a rough patch, I’ll address it differently. Maybe we’ll find ourselves more consumed with it at some point. Maybe I’ll change my tune. But, goodness, I hope not.

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