More than a disease

So weak you were

clinging to me

lethargic brown eyes

so hard to see.

Something was wrong,

I knew in my heart.

Sicker you became,

as we watched in fear

your little body wretch

and shed little tears.

The doctor came in

after many tests

and you cried for milk

you couldn’t rest.

“Diabetes” she said,

and we sat for awhile

as it filled our head.

We mourned the freedom

you would never enjoy.

Every bite will need to be counted,

our little boy.

You have to plan ahead,

no spontaneity,

always anticipating  the roller coaster ride,

of blood sugars falling low,

then shooting high.

Scary effects if not under control,

a disease with stigma,

and a label in tow.

You didn’t earn this.

It was the luck of the draw.

My sweet baby boy,

you got the short straw.

But remember this always,

you’re more than a number

or a ketone stick test,

you’re a child of god-

In that I hope you can rest.

He has big plans for you,

he will use this for good.

The discipline you will learn

will be earned in childhood.

You’ll have compassion for others,

having been there.

You’ll be strong in spirit,

as you’ve already endured

and rose above the challenge

in spite of no cure.

Mommy’s so proud of you

my sweet little boy

may you do great things

and spread gods’ joy.

May you soar above in confidence

yet humble to your neighbor

and may you always have a penchant

for God’s good favor.

















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