Today one of my friends had an assumed miscarriage. She will find out for sure on Monday, but right now it is a sad waiting game. My heart breaks for her, as I thought I had had a miscarriage before I had my darling daughter (DD). I remember calling the hospital and them telling me there was nothing they could do (it was on a Sunday for me) and to come in to the clinic the next day. The waiting to go in was mental agony and arriving at an early pregnancy clinic was very hard when you were pretty confident you had lost your baby. Mine turned out to be an ectopic pregnancy, fingers crossed there is nothing complicated for my friend.
So tonight I have been reflecting on this time, and thinking of all that has happened since. Of sitting in the waiting room at the RPA in Sydney on a Monday morning, surrounded by 20 or so other women, most likely having miscarriages for which nothing could be done. Of the tears and the terror, and the tiny bit of hope that it wasn’t really happening. Of the chemotherapy treatment I was lucky enough to be able to have instead of having to lose my tube. Of being able to quickly fall pregnant with DD and having a great pregnancy (I do LOVE being pregnant!). Of how excited my son was to have a baby sister and how lucky we are to still have my daughter with us.
The day that my daughter was diagnosed with diabetes was one that will stay with my husband and I forever. It was the day that we came so very close to losing our darling daughter. My DD was 11 months old and that day I had just had a 2nd interview for a job, which I was offered, and had left DD with my mum. She had been a little off all week. Her breathing had been getting faster and faster and I had become more and more concerned. Other than that though, she had no really apparent symptoms.
When I went to pick my DD up from my mums, her breathing was getting faster than one a second. When I had my son, our paed had always said to panic at a breath a second, so off to the GP we went. When the GP was concerned and unable to diagnose the issue, he sent us straight to the Emergency department at the hospital. We were very lucky that night in so many ways. I was lucky that a nurse that I swim trained with was the head nurse on emergency and rushed us through the triage process. I was lucky that I had her there for me and my family throughout the night... at the time we barely knew each other except to say hello and now she is one of my most trusted friends. We were lucky that there was a locum doctor there who was able to diagnose our DD when the first two doctors who saw her we not able to. We were lucky that she lived when it looked for many hours that she may not. It was terrifying and at the time I made a decision that it did not matter what I had to give up or do, I just wanted her to live. We are so very lucky that she lived and I am lucky every night to be able to hold her in my arms and tell her that I love her. I am lucky that she is in almost every way a healthy, happy, active and cheeky 2 year old.
I am often asked if it is hard to get up so often during the night to test my DD blood glucose levels. Of course it is hard. But there is no question that it is worth it. Seeing my DD get older and become her own person is a reward that is worth endless sleepless nights.
I am lucky.