Nobody Saw You

I recently read a lovely poem titled, “Nobody saw you,” written by a mother about all the endless tasks, responsibilities, heartaches, and joys a mother goes through raising her small children. It made me cry because I could relate to it, and it also made me think of all the parents taking care of young children with type 1 diabetes (or other chronic illnesses) and all the added elements this adds on to the already tough challenge of parenting. It inspired me to write my own version. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, is it not? Warning: this one is a little depressing. But, it’s real. 

Nobody saw you..
At 3 am, headlamp on, sneaking into her room
Every. Single. Night.
Praying she doesn’t wake as you bleed her finger for the 10th time today
68. Shit.
Too low for 3 a.m.
Get the juice box

Nobody saw you
Holding your screaming child down to give them their 5th shot of the day, or change their pump site for the 3rd time this week
“She needs this to survive,” you repeat to yourself
“Will she be able to handle this life?”
“Will I?”

Nobody saw you cry
Because you always had to be so strong
You can’t let her see your broken heart
You must keep going
She has to be so brave, you must set the example
Soldier on

Nobody saw you desperately shoving sugar in your shaking and confused child
“One more sip, baby”
“One more gummy bear for mommy, please”
Staring a hole through the Dexcom
Waiting for the arrows to stop going down
Waiting for the alarm to shut up

Nobody saw you
Trying to count how many carbs she ate
Tiny teeth marks on an apple – is that 5 carbs worth or 8?
Did she eat three french fries, or was it six?
Not enough insulin, she goes high and there’s long-term damage to her little organs
Too much insulin and we’re looking at an immediate and dangerous issue

Nobody saw you on the phone
With your insurance company
With your diabetes supply company
With Dexcom support
With pump customer support
Your endocronoligist
Your nurse
10 phone calls this week when you were supposed to be working
Or napping
Or eating

Nobody saw you, nobody listened when you tried to educate them
To tell them about a condition so complex that they can never truly understand unless they live with it
It’s an autoimmune disease
No, it can’t be prevented
No, there is no cure
Yes, she can eat that

Nobody saw you
So scared to sleep through an alarm
Terrified they might not wake up in the morning
Waking up to feel like you can’t do this crazy dance another day
But you rise to take on another 24 hours – for them
Check the blood sugar, treat the high, count the carbs, treat the low
Nobody saw any of that
They simply saw you at the park, the museum, grocery shopping

I see you, brave ones
I see your grit and your daily grind
I see your fears for the future
I see your fierce love and determination for your child
I see you raising a warrior, and in the process becoming one yourself