As I sit here remembering where we were 2 months ago, sitting in an ICU room with our son, terrified and desperately trying to digest the diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes we were just given, I wonder why I don’t feel much better about the diagnosis. In my naiveté , I remember thinking how I wished for it to be one month from November 20, 2013 so that I would have a better grip on the diagnosis and be better adjusted to a life filled with insulin and injections for my son; yet here I sit 2 months later and I feel just as lost and frustrated as I did the day I found out that my son would live with this disease for the rest of his life. I live most days, waiting for the next blood check and doing my best to become acclimated to new signs my son may be giving off that he is either too high or too low. I find the hardest struggle these days, isn’t the needles, and the blood sugar checks, but the lack of language communication as he is only 19.5 months old. I wonder if it will be easier when he can tell me that his vision is blurry, or his feet tingle. Then I snap back into reality and realize that with every stage comes new challenges. I find that allowing myself the momentary disappointment and frustration, allows me to have better days over all. Knowing that no matter what is thrown at me I will get through it, affords me the moments when I need to be sad or angry. Feeling these raw emotions is normal, and dare I say it healthy, it’s how we move past them that counts. I know that through each struggle and trial, we are learning about the needs of my son. My hope is that once he starts talking things will get easier, but all in all, I know deep down that this beast of a disease will throw curve ball after curve ball. Truly, at the end of the day, it’s not how well I’ve managed his blood sugar that counts, the true victory is in how happy we are as a family, and the normalcy that we experience in spite of Diabetes.