It took all of my will to get up and leave her - sleeping there so peacefully in her own bed.
Because Facebook was abuzz today with the news that yet another child passed away in the night from Type 1 Diabetes.
She was 13 years old.
No one knows why this happens. The best answer we get is "Dead in Bed Syndrome". Click HERE to read more about it. But the basic description from the CWD site is this:
Someone with type 1 diabetes is found dead in the morning in an undisturbed bed after having been observed in apparently good health the day before. No cause of death can be established. This is the typical situation of the "dead in bed" syndrome, a very tragic outcome which leaves the family with many unanswered questions: Why, when, how, could it have been avoided?
I could think of nothing else all day.
All day I had this constant dialogue with God. Which mostly just me, saying over and over again, "Please, God. Please don't take my baby. Please. I know a cure will come in Your time. But please hurry. Please."
Other than that, I felt numb.
Until I was laying in bed with my precious girl, talking with her before she went to sleep. Talking about her field trip tomorrow and what kind of birthday party she wants (her birthday is not until March - but she is planning ahead!).
Then the tears started to flow freely. Onto her pillowpet and her fairy sheets. Onto the bloodstains that remind me that the same enemy that took this other young girl, lurks inside of my baby as well. Knowing that there is a mother who is not tucking her girl in tonight.
Because of diabetes.
This is why we walk. Why we raise money. Why I spend countless hours blogging, educating, advocating... Why I said "yes" when JDRF Advocacy came knocking.
This is why we don't sleep through the night. Why we are always tired. Why we live in a constant state of stress and fear and anxiety. Why our personal needs come last.
I have more to say on this topic. But now I have nothing left to offer up. I have nothing to share except raw emotion. Sadness. Pain. Sorrow. Guilt. Fear.
Right now, I'm just so thankful to have my little girl. Alive. Breathing.
Tonight I count my blessings. And I say prayers for the families who are dealing with my worst nightmare.
Tonight I will check on my girl a few extra times. I will hug her tighter. And I just may sleep among the fairies.
** To read other posts on this subject, see the links below.
Our Diabetic Life: Strengthening Our Armor
Beta Buddies: The Hidden Truth
Sweet to the Soul: This is Why
My Sugar Bugs: Why We Need a Cure