Trust

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." (Proverbs 3:5-6)

This is a scripture that always seems to pop into my head right at the moment I need it the most. In Lehi's dream (1 Nephi chapter 8) we read that he saw the rod of iron, and many people are holding onto it to get to the tree of knowledge. As Lehi is watching the people struggle to hold on, or to keep their children and families holding on, he is saddened to see many let go, and wander off. Some wandered off because it was too hard to hold on, some wandered off because the great and spacious building was "more fun". I will say, it is not easy keeping a hold of the rod in today's world. I think some may have let go because they lost their trust.

I heard a quote recently, I'm not sure who said it or where I heard it, but they said "Without trust, there is no faith." I don't necessarily think this is true. I'm not proud, but back in January I hit my breaking point. I hit my lack of trust. I lost it, and spent many nights, in my car, driving home from the NICU screaming at the Lord after leaving my babies, AGAIN! It seems lately every time we pray for something, the opposite happens. We have gone through so many trials since last June, just trying to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives, it seemed like one thing after another and the trials just kept coming. I know we all have our own issues we face everyday, and I don't believe my trials are more, or greater than anyone else's, after all the Lord caters our trials to what we can handle.. but January 17th I hit my breaking point. I drove home screaming at the Lord, and i admitted to Him I had lost my trust. I still knew He was listening, and I still wanted to talk to Him, but I had closed myself off to the spirit, and refused to listen. I told Him "I will NOT set foot in church until my babies come home. If YOU want me in church, YOU better make it happen." January 17th Ammon was supposed to come home, but that morning he had had another "episode" and his clock reset for another five days!

That night I felt all alone. I truly felt like my prayers weren't a priority, or that they weren't being heard at all. I felt no matter how hard I prayed it wasn't going to happen anyway, so why continue to keep praying? I screamed, I cried, and I even accused the Lord of holding my babies hostage. I had done my part, and yet He took one son, and was holding the other two. He can't even give me a break? Just one little break? I took my thoughts to Facebook. I was still talking to the Lord, I was just refusing His spirit. I asked a very trusted mom group "What do you do when you've lost your trust in the Lord?" One woman commented and said "it's okay to pray to the Lord and ask Him for a break. You are allowed to ask him to ease up on your trials." That's when it hit me. "TRUST in THE LORD with ALL thine HEART, and LEAN NOT unto thine OWN UNDERSTANDING".

I still didn't go to church in the 20th. Honestly I couldn't bear to have everyone who has supported us ask me questions about when our boys were coming home, and how they were doing. I just wasn't strong enough.

I spent the next week conversing but still keeping Him at arms length. I just couldn't trust Him... not yet. I felt gross, I felt empty, and I felt numb. It felt like if I held onto any kind of hope, it would all just be taken away from me.

Friday January 25th, I was in the NICU again. The nurse that night told me our boys would be ready to go home on Sunday! Yeah right! I'd believe it when I see it. I wanted so badly to believe it, to have just one ounce of hope or trust, but this was the third or even fourth time they told us they would be ready, just to have the light at the end of the tunnel snuffed out. I was holding Ammon, I looked down and I called him "Booger" my mom and my nick name for Duncan. I felt a pain in my heart. I said "I'm sorry Ammon, I can't call you that, that was Duncan's nick name. We'll come up with something else." At that moment I felt pressure on my left arm. It was as if someone had lied their head down on my arm while looking over my shoulder at the baby. I knew who it was, it was my Duncan. This sacred moment lasted for what felt like hours, but in reality was only minutes. That scripture came to my mind again. "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all they ways acknowledge him and he shall direct thy paths." I trusted Him enough with my Duncan. I needed to continue that trust to know He had a plan, and He knew what was right. Even if I don't understand.

I walked out to my car and drove home that night very humbled. I turned off the radio, and for the first time in longer than I care to admit, I opened my heart, mind, and soul to my Father. I apologized. I told Him about my frustration, I talked about my anger, my pain, my worries, my fears of losing another baby. I told Him about my uneasiness to handle two babies, when I was still grieving the loss of one. I finally let Him in, I finally let Him comfort me. I was mentaly, emotionslly, and spiritually drained. I also came to a realization that night. When we have a friend or family member going through a hard time, we want to be there for them. We ask "what do you need from me? What can I do for you?" We check in on them to make sure they are alright. When they tell us "I'm fine" or "no, we don't need anything" we feel helpless, we feel unneeded, and we back off and think, they know we love them, they will call on us if they need us. 

The Lord is no different. He can not FORCE us to feel His spirit, or to pray. All He can do is remind us He loves us, and that He is there when we are ready to call on Him. Then sit helplessly by, waiting for us to need Him. I needed Him, and realized in time how important my relationship with my Father is.

The next afternoon on January 26, 2019, I got a call from the NICU nurse. They had discharge orders for our twins! They were coming home! I had so many emotions run through me all at once. Mostly, I was thankful. Thankful I was willing to see how petty I was being, that I was willing to let my Father back into my heart. Thankful that I humbled myself to know He was just waiting for me. Waiting for me to talk to Him, to call on Him, and to have the trust in Him to know His plan is greater, His plan will always work out in the end.I

A Pair of Socks

How is it possible for a pair of socks to bring this much pain. It's just a pair of socks! These were used socks, they are a part of his story. I don't know what their last adventure was with him, but I know whatever it was, he was having fun, laughing, running, and just being Duncan. Now that they're washed, I will fold them, and place them in a box, and keep them until I come across them again. Perhaps they will have future adventures with younger siblings. Siblings who will never know of the adventures they have already had. Now they are just a pair of socks.

 

Three Years.

September 18, 2015. Will always be a day I remember. This particular day changed my entire life, and the life of my family. Duncan had been sick, throwing up and sleeping for the past three days, and I couldn't get him to eat anything. I called his pediatrician after dropping Cyrus and Caleb off at school. I explained he was throwing up, his breathing was quick, and sounded wheezy, and his feet were cold. The nurse on the other end asked if he had a temperature, I said "no, no temperature." She told me it was probably a flu bug, and we just had to ride it out. "But, if he becomes unresponsive, get him to the emergency room right away." I kept my eye on him, and checked him every hour. Craig came home from his nursing program, we ate dinner, I went to see if Duncan wanted to eat, and I couldn't wake him up. I brought him into Craig, who pulled out his stethoscope. "His lungs are clear, but his heart is racing. First go get your dad, he needs a blessing. He then needs a doctor." With that my dad and Craig gave Duncan a blessing. I wish I could remember what they said, but I knew from this point on, it was up to the Lord. My dad and I rushed him to St Mary's where they did blood tests, started him on saline, and I got chewed out for not bringing him in sooner. I thought it was the flu! Later, when everything had settled down, and I sat by my little boy's bed, scared, pregnant, alone, praying he would be alright... a woman came to me. She sat down, and quietly said "I've just been reading your son's chart. It says you are LDS. What ward are you in? Who is your bishop? Does he know you're here? Who is your relief society president? Does your son need a blessing? I can call the missionaries, and they can be here in five minutes" I don't remember that nurse's name, I don't remember what she looked like, but I remember her gentle kindness. Her fellowship. Her sisterhood. She was a complete stranger, the Lord had sent to me, in my darkest hour, a sister to remind me I was not alone. She told me if I needed her, she would be at the desk, all I had to do was ask. She gave me a hug, and I knew, my spirit would be calm. It would be alright no matter the outcome. The Lord was there, I was not alone, and never would be alone in this battle.

Three years ago on September 18th my Duncan was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I took the classes, I listened to the nutritionist, I did my best to keep him healthy. He was never hospitalized again, in the two and a half years after his diagnosis.

   

There were times I wanted to throw in the towel and say "No More!" But I knew Duncan was special, and he was going to change the world one day. And he did. He changed the world for at least 4 people, and many more to come, as well as their families, and future generations. He will always be our special boy, and our beacon of light. It's still hard to go through this life without him, but knowing he no longer has to fight, gives me some peace. Duncan, I would have fought along side you to the end, and in a way I did. Happy 3 year Diaversary my little super hero! And to those that are still fighting, know we stand with you. We love you, and we know your struggles, your fears, and your moments weakness. Know you are not alone.

Shattered Summer (PART 1)

I started this blog two years ago to help me cope with my son's type 1 diabetes. It helped me out a lot, even though I have many posts I have not published and I have gone many months without writing. My son was diagnosed at 18 months with type 1. While we came together as a family and learned everyday new ways to help him cope and help us understand, my husband Craig and I still knew in the back of our minds we would lose Duncan early in life. Craig always thought we would lose him in his 20s or 30s, I always thought it would be as a teenager.

This last June, Craig got a new job in San Rafael CA. We packed up our home, and our family and made the six hour drive to our new home in Fairfield. Our first week was spent, finding all the clothes and essentials we needed to get Craig to and from work. I needed to stock up on food, so I could make his lunches, the first week went by like a whirlwind and before we knew it we were heading into week 2.

Week 2 was spent getting the bedrooms organized so we could start getting our tiny townhouse in order. I knew I was going to have to downsize, but I needed the space to do it. I spent the week trying to get everything in order, while Craig spent the week dealing with a jerk at work who wanted his job and spent every day making sure the work environment was hostile. It was Father's Day weekend so we took some much needed family time and went to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom on Saturday, with my older brother, and his son. Then surprised my mom and step dad in Redding for a Father's Day BBQ. It was the perfect weekend, roller coasters and swimming, looking back I wouldn't change a single decision we made that weekend.

Monday came with more stress for Craig at work. Tuesday came and I spent the day throwing up. Then Wednesday hit... Duncan started throwing up Tuesday night at around 11:30 p.m. I checked his sugar, and it was high, almost 400, but he wasn't spilling keytones so I gave him a water bottle and sent him back to bed. He cam into our room at about 4 a.m. when Craig got up for work. He said he didn't feel good, and just wanted to lie down with mommy. I cuddled him, and he fell back to sleep. Craig left for work, and I cuddled my boy, he woke me up at around 7 throwing up. His sugar was in the 500s, but his keytones weren't high. I used his sliding scale to measure his insulin, and put him in the bathtub. Our nurse told us once, that a warm bath can help lower blood sugar, I checked on Duncan every hour, and got him a 24 oz cup full of water. He did have keytones, but again they weren't high, and although he was throwing up, his sugar was coming down. I check his sugar every hour, gave him insulin every two hours, made sure his 24 oz water cup stayed full, and tried to get him to eat anything I could. He was responsive. He would talk to me, and yell at his sister, looking back, I wish I had just taken him the the Emergency Room. Why didn't I just take him?

Duncan and I slept down in the living room that night. I didn't want to keep everyone else awake. My poor boy just couldn't keep anything down. Earlier that day I had jumped onto Facebook to ask my Diabetic community what they would do. There is a fantastic Facebook group called Parents of Type 1 Diabetes. I should have listened to those who said I should take him to the ER. But he was responsive, his sugar was coming down, and his keytones weren't at dangerous levels. It was around 11:30 p.m. on Wednesday night that I checked my post and saw someone say something about electrolytes. DANG why didn't I think of electrolytes? I went to my fridge, I had bought some Gatorade a week before, and it was still there. No it wasn't. I had been throwing up all day Tuesday, and Gatorade was the only thing I could keep down that day. I remembered I had a bottle of Pedialyte, I went back to the kitchen and looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it. It must still be packed up in a box somewhere, and finding it now would be impossible. I would get some first thing in the morning, as soon as Duncan woke up. I tried to get him up at around 2 a.m. to check for keytones, I placed him on the potty, and he started crying... "no mommy, no... I don't need to go potty, I just need to sleep" I checked his sugar, he was down to 195. I could get some sleep knowing we were almost out of the woods. I placed him back in bed and let him sleep. I think he knew then, he was getting ready to leave this earth.

Duncan woke up at around 9 the next morning, the first thing I did was check his sugar, and then for keytones. His sugar was at 290, and his keytones were HIGH too high. I texted Craig and told him Duncan would need to go to the Emergency Room. He was still responsive, and still fighting with his brothers, just really tired. That was to be expected, he had been throwing up all day. I loaded all four kids in the car, drove out to the 99 cent only store, and bought some Gatorade. Duncan drank about a cup of the Gatorade and then wanted to just lie down. At around 11:30 a.m. on June 21, 2018, Duncan was lying on his bed in the living room, and he let out a small cry. I rushed to him and he would not respond. He would not blink, he would not move his arms, he would not talk, he was barely breathing. I called 911 and they sent an ambulance. When the first responders showed up they saw my baby boy lying unresponsive on his little mattress in the living room of our tiny town house. One of them asked exactly what happened. I told him about Duncan having Type 1 Diabetes. I told him about the throwing up, I told him all about what had happened the day before. He said "I'm a Type 1 as well. Let me take his sugar" His sugar was at 360. He then said "his sugar is high, but it is not high enough for him to be in DKA, there is something wrong, we will take care of him". They loaded him on a gurney, into the back of a truck, gave me a map to the hospital, and they took my baby.

Craig met me at the hospital. He said he got off early because they were slow at work. Something felt off, but I didn't push him, I knew he'd tell me when he was ready. We stayed in the waiting room of the Emergency Room of North Bay Hospital in Fairfield, Ca. It seemed like we were sitting there for hours before they called us up to the door to the back. The nurse took us into a private waiting room, and my heart instantly dropped. They only take you into the private room when they have to tell you something serious. The trauma doctor stepped in and told us the news. Duncan had stopped breathing in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. They had to intubate him to put him on a breathing machine. They needed to do an x-ray, and a CT scan of his brain, but before they did that I was allowed to go in and see him. I was not ready for what I saw. They had to cut his shirt off, and they took his pants off, they put him in a diaper. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was sleeping. I just wanted to go to him and hold him, and beg him to wake up. JUST WAKE UP! They took an x-ray, but I had to leave the room, I was eight weeks pregnant and I couldn't be around the radiation. They then let me walk with him down to the CT room to get a scan of his brain. Once we got back to the triage room, I held his hand, kissed his cheek, and went back into the waiting room to give Craig a chance to come in and see him. He came back, and the trauma doctor stepped in moments later. It was worse than we thought. The CT scan showed Duncan had swelling in his brain. They're not sure what it meant. It could have been a shadow, we prayed to God it was a shadow. He told us Duncan would need to be air lifted down to Oakland Children's Hospital, but they couldn't get him stabilized. When they would get him breathing, his blood pressure would drop, when they got his blood pressure back up, he would stop breathing. So again, we waited.

A million thoughts ran through my mind... Did I do this? I should have brought him in yesterday when he was throwing up. Why didn't I get Gatorade last night when I thought about it? Did I miss count his insulin? The head of triage came in to speak to us as well. He told us they thought he had an electrolyte imbalance. I knew it, it was my fault. He told us the swelling was only in the back of his head, which was weird because usually when a brain swells, the whole brain swells, that's why it may have just been a shadow. He told me I did everything right. He told me in his professional opinion, he wouldn't have brought him in the day before either, especially if he was responsive. He told me a million things can go wrong with type one diabetes, and when a diabetic gets sick, all we can do is treat the symptoms. I did what I needed to to treat his symptoms, but it just wasn't enough.

They finally got Duncan stabilized enough to move him. The helicopter landed, and I was able to go in and say goodbye. It took about 30 minutes for them to pack him up and get him loaded, they brought our family out of the waiting room, and outside to see him rolled onto the helicopter and take off. By the time the helicopter took off, a woman from our Church showed up to ask us what we needed. We quickly told her what was going on, and she watched with us. She had called an Elder in our ward as well, and he showed up right as the helicopter took off. We asked if we could have five to ten minutes alone to pray and receive a blessing. The hospital staff was more than willing to allow it, and we went back into that awful room, the room that changed my life forever. The hospital social worker had gone to the gift shop to get some things to keep the other kids occupied, she brought coloring books, game books, and some stuffed animals for our two year old daughter. Before they took Duncan from the triage room, she rushed in with one of the stuffed animals and said all the siblings kissed it for Duncan.

As we left the hospital, I got a call from my mom. She was at our townhouse, she had driven down from Redding, so she could stay with the other kids while Craig and I went to Oakland to stay with Duncan. It was 2 p.m. We had been at the hospital for two and a half hours! We went home, I found Duncan's dog, the one who has been through everything with him. I washed it up really quickly, and threw it in the car. I went through and found some clothes, knowing we would be gone for a couple of days. My mom and I went to a drive thru to get dinner, and when we got back, Craig and I left to the Oakland Children's Hospital. Craig had to drive, I was too stressed out. It took 45 minutes to get to Oakland, but it felt like hours.

It's Been Way Too Long

It's been too long since I've written. I started this as a way to help me cope with my son's diabetes. I thought maybe if another mother found this, it might make her feel better, like she wasn't alone when it felt like her world was crashing down around her. Honestly, Duncan's diagnosis changed my world forever. It changed my family forever. Not just my family unit (husband and other children), but also my parents and siblings and my husband's parents and siblings. I can't just call a babysitter to watch my children so my husband and I can go out for date night, I have to make sure it's a person I would trust with my own life, because ultimately I'm trusting that person with Duncan's life.

Before diabetes I never had to think, read, or do the math for food I bought. I never had to think twice about trick or treating, baking Christmas cookies, or going to family parties. Now I check nutritional facts, look up serving sizes, and I have to add, subtract, multiply, and divide, just to make sure Duncan has the right things to eat and the right amount of insulin. I have gone to church parties and looked through the trash just to find out what brand of rolls they used for the Halloween dinner. I have badgered family about what exactly is in the food they serve at parties. I have checked the nutritional facts on something, thrown the box away and then had to retrieve it again because I forgot what I had just read. It's exhausting, it's stressful, and now it's also second nature. I make announcements at family parties to remind everyone NOT TO FEED THE YOUNG BEAR, because he will give you his cute smile and try to manipulate you into sneaking him something extra that mom hasn't counted, and I am always so grateful to my family on both my side and my husband's side for keeping an extra eye on him and making sure I know what he's eating. To his aunts and uncles, and all our parents and siblings, thank you for making my stress that much easier.

Sometimes I look at Duncan and I forget he has this disease. It's really easy to see my outgoing little boy run around the park, and forget that I have to check his sugar before I can feed him anything. There are times I get in the car and I'm about to drive away when in the back of my mind I hear "you forgot the blood sugar bag". I have to jump out and run back into the house to get it. I was told before I left the hospital on September 20, 2015, that one day all this would become second nature. Here I am almost 2 years later, and it feels like I've been dealing with it all my life, and yet I'm still learning something new everyday as well.

So WELCOME BACK to our journey!

My Reality

"My son is 2 years old, and he has type one diabetes." I have said this to myself everyday since he was diagnosed last September. I've come to accept this is who he is, this is who I am, a mother of a diabetic, this is who our family is. We as a family cope with the idea of Duncan's disease. Cyrus and Caleb have adjusted pretty well to carb counting, and using a food scale weigh out his portions. They've adjusted to waiting to eat until sugar is checked, and juice is administered, and they're starting to adjust to sugar free treats or low carb snacks. We as a family have become Blood Warriors!

Every once in a while, if we go out to eat I will pull out Duncan's meter to check his sugar level. Most people ask me questions about how we found out about his "condition", or what it's like... but every once in a while I'll get an ignorant comment from someone who doesn't know anything about what Duncan is going through. There are people out there who think, that because their mom, or grandma had type 2 then they know all about the disease. That's when the harsh comments come into play.

I have had perfect strangers tell me I'm a bad mom. "If my child were that young, or that small I wouldn't give him sugar... it's your fault!" Now, I know that's not true, so I take it in my stride. I smile and say "actually sugar has nothing to do with it. His pancreas just doesn't produce insulin anymore." I'm never afraid to share Duncan's story with them, most of the time people with the nasty comments just walk away with a mean look on their face.

I try not to "educate" people about my son's condution, but there are so many people who know nothing of what I go through everyday just to keep my toddler safe and alive. When I hear my boys get up at 6:30 a.m. I hold my breath every morning and listen for Duncan. I my mind I say a silent prayer "please wake up this morning" this is my reality. I checked him last night, his sugar was 134, but there's always that possibility it dropped late into the night, and I wake up to a dead child. This is my reality... When I hear a CRASH and my 7 year old scream "DUNCAN!" I know he's up and crashing around. I can breath again.

I recently read a friends blog, where she bore her testimony about God's plan. As I was reading I realized how amazing our Father in Heaven is, and how He has a plan for all of us. I may not know what His plan is for our family, or my Duncan but I do have faith He is with us every step of the way.

Adeline

When Duncan was first diagnosed, we treated him as if he were fragile. For a month or so, I was getting my bearings and trying to come to what was now our reality.... now Duncan's reality. I will admit, there was a time I got in my truck to go pick up my 5 year old from kindergarten, and I cried the entire 15 minute drive to the school. I got there a little early, and cried until I saw my son's class come out to meet the parents. That was the only time I really let go and the seriousness of Duncan's condition sank in. My son is diabetic, I kept telling myself. He's not even 2 and he will now have at least 4 shots a day for the rest of his life. He will have midnight scares, and I may never really get a full night's sleep again. Will he be able to serve a mission? If he does will he have to stay in the states? Will he pass this on to is kids? I had so many questions about his future, it was overwhelming. I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about it really. I told everyone I was fine, and dealing which I was, and I would tell them Duncan's story about how we found out about his condition. I tell them the technical stuff, not the personal toll it took on me and my boys. I don't talk about how his older brothers weren't sure how to treat him once we got home. I don't talk about crying in my car when I thought about almost losing him. I don't talk about the stress it put on my family, and how we were afraid he would break if we let him go outside. I didn't go anywhere alone with my boys for almost 2 months. I was afraid if I did, I would forget something important.

Once we got over the initial shock of his diagnosis, and we got over the thoughts that if we made one little mistake he could end up in the hospital again, we started to get our lives back in order. Duncan noticed the difference in how he was being treated though and he took advantage of the situation. He became a strong willed, spoiled little boy, who thought he could get away with everything if he just smiled. Take right now for example. I say it's nap time, he's decided he's not tired so he's up and running around his room, yelling at his brothers outside because he thinks I can't hear him. There were many times i forgot I was pregnant with baby #4. When you only see the doctor every 4 weeks, and the baby is pretty mellow and doesn't move a lot, its really easy to forget. We found out in November baby #4 was a girl. After 3 boys I didn't know what I was going to do with a girl. March 11, 2016 she entered into our world and once again our family was turned upside down. I was able to leave my boys with my parents without the worry of Duncan ending up with really high highs, or really low lows, and Craig (my husband) was able to take care of things while I was in the hospital.

I wasn't worried about Cyrus and Caleb as much as Duncan when it came to the new baby. Cyrus has had 2 babies come home, and Caleb has had 1, they've been through this before. Duncan has not... and like I said he's been a little spoiled. Craig brought the boys to the hospital to meet their new sister, and I fully prepared myself for a tantrum from Duncan. He's only 2 and he is now no longer the baby. When Cyrus was 2 and Caleb was born, he came in saw his new baby brother and stomped around trying to slam things. Craig couldn't stay for more than 10 minutes because of the tantrum Cyrus was throwing. I expected nothing less from Duncan. Craig came in with all three boys, Cyrus' face lit up and he asked if he could hold the baby. Caleb started giggling and asked if he could hold the baby, and then there was Duncan... he walked over and tried to climb on my bed by himself, so daddy helped him, and he crawled over to the baby in my arms, lifted his little hand and started stroking her cheek. He looked up at me and smiled, and then tried to sit on my lap while she was nursing. He is so gentle with her it amazes me. Every child is different, I know that better than anyone. Cyrus is my bossy 7 year old who thinks he knows how the world works already, Caleb is my mouthy 5 year old who wants to be in charge of his own destiny, but still lets his big brother call the shots, and Duncan is my explorer who won't think twice about jumping in a mud puddle just to see how deep it is, and if his shoes really will get wet after I've told him "no" countless times. They're all different, but Duncan amazes me when it comes to his sister. He doesn't try to hit her, or hurt her. When she's crying he looks at me very seriously and says "Mommy Baby!" and if he's in the room when she's crying he tries to comfort her with a blanket or a stuffed animal. He is a natural big brother, and I don't worry for one minute about their relationship. I know the two of them are going to be best friends. I know he'll tease her and pull her hair, I know she'll scream and tell on him every chance she gets, but there is a special bond between the two of them. I'm excited to see it grow, and mature throughout the years.