It hurts the most when it wasn't supposed to hurt. I always get flanked by emotions when it isn't particularly the right time to be emotional. It still wrenches the hell out of me when on my way up to bed i have to grab the test kit. As i run up the stairs with that little black case in my hand my throat closes up momentarily and the last few steps seem to take forever. So much crosses my mind at that point. Too much to even process. When will it ever be processed? Will it ever be something I just do? Is it the fact that i know one day will never ever have to test her again?
I cannot believe that Emma is going to have to test her blood sugar every single day for the rest of her life. I comprehend it enough to be able to not believe it.
But it is so easy. Her freshly bathed warm body distinctively relaxed and enjoying her dreams of Dora and Boots. Not a sound in her room. Not a movement other than myself pushing the test strip in the monitor and looking for the best access to her clean pruney finger.
At this point i am exploiting the fact that that this can be done fast with no negotiations.
I can't. Yet. I have to look at her before another procedure reminds me of what is or is not inside of her.
Taking the plunge and stealthily grabbing her tucked hand in one quick motion hoping she will not open her eyes to see me. but in her own way.... she then settles me. She lets me know everything is OK. She does so by volunteering her outreached hand and pointing her finger for me. Almost asking for her test.
She is such a doll. I was supposed to be the one who makes everything OK. As stubborn as she is she cannot let me. I love that little soul.
Something so routine and essential is becoming my most difficult and trying moment.