God is Good All the Time.

Panic

For twenty years I’ve lived my life taking needles to my arms legs and fingers daily. Several times a day in fact. No. I’m not a heroin addict or a crack head. I’m a Type I Diabetic. I do not choose to take a needle to my flesh. I do not wish to walk around feeling like a robot, with my insulin pump attached to one of my thighs usually and my continuous glucose monitor attached to my back. It’s hard as a women to keep these things hidden. I’ve finally reached the point in my diabetic journey where I don’t care about the look of it, I just care that its helping me saving my life on a daily basis.

Before I had my children, I did some research on genetics. Was Diabetes genetic? Could I pass it on to my children? If so, would I still have them? Luckily, my extensive research at the time said I could not pass it on to my children. Ok. Great. Let’s make some babies.

I had my daughter and then three years later my son. I’m not going to lie. I’m paranoid sometimes and will check their blood sugars occasionally.

To cut a long story in half, new research is saying that Type I Diabetes may actually be genetic. Though I am the first and only known case in my family, it doesn’t mean that someday one of my children could turn for the worse.

Maximus, my beautiful baby boy, has been very thirsty lately. However with everything else going on in my life (work, husband, daughter, school starting, depression, anxiety… etc) I didn’t think much of it until his preschool teacher mentioned how thirsty he was throughout the day. So after dinner, I tested his blood sugar. 258. 

I immediately dropped to my knees crying and praying to God… not my son. Please, I pleaded, not my baby boy. I begged him over and over to give me anything just protect my boy. I rushed him to the hospital, praying the entire time that he would be ok. Please, I begged, dear Lord save my son.

About two hours later his blood sugar was 127. His A1C was 5.2. All his bloodwork and urine came back within normal range. My boy is perfect. After my initial panic over the situation I got down and thanked God. Since my meter was working correctly, how could this happen? How could my son be so high one minute and then perfect the next?

God has healed my baby boy. There is no other explanation but God.

 

 

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