Now that I've purged the last of my grief out, finished my cravings for everything chocolate and fat-filled, I'm done. The way I'm now seein' it, is it's much like being single and lovin' it, and then suddenly having a newborn.
Bye-bye old self, that you hadn't been warned would be leaving.
The difficulty's in adjusting to the now fact, that new life's 100% dependent on your involvement. So much for ever again being fanciful or free.
I recall the hurdle of becoming a parent. The uncounseled reality that life will never again be all about you. But five kids in, that state was a myth, or at least only temporal, in time things relax and at last you can breathe again.
We left her at the babysitter's tonight, unattended. Somehow timed perfectly, my husband dropped "a date" on me, we'd eaten (already covered the insulin), then out the door.
We checked in only twice for her numbers, she'd already tested herself, which at 127 was spectacular. We can do this, we've done it, let's do it again.
As I tucked my youngest in tonight (she's just two), I imagined the worst was over, and admitted it's true. For the first time in all of my history of parenting, I realized that more terrible things could happen to each of my children, and that's when I knew.
Instead of blocking it out like my fantasy land usually allows me to do. I just sat with the knowledge that no matter what life decides for any of us, we most certainly WILL get through.
7 years ago