Diagnosis

The warning signs were there for a while, but we didn't put them all together until C was diagnosed. It started with a diaper rash we couldn't get rid of, and that went on for months. Next came the excessive drinking and peeing, but it was August, so we thought she was just thirsty and didn't pay much attention. One Sunday she threw up, and she threw up off and on for a week. The final straw, though, was a Saturday night: August 30, 2008.

My mom had taken C for the night. I was exhausted from having a sick kid and being three months pregnant, so I was enjoying the break. But my break ended when my mom called and said C was breathing really heavily, even in her sleep, and that she had passed out after her bath. Not fallen asleep, but passed out.

I called the pediatrician, and she sent us to the nearest ER. The triage nurse noticed a fruity smell on her breath, so she checked C's blood sugar. A normal high is 120, but C's was 713. Everything after that moment is a blur.

Diagnosis ... blur ... attempt after attempt and attempt to start an IV on a dehydrated 20-month-old ... blur ... a choice between the two local children's hospitals ... blur ... an ambulance ride ... blur ... more IV attempts ... but the moment I knew she was in serious trouble was when I realized we were not in a regular room, but in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. That was the moment it all caught up with me ... the moment I really began to accept that our lives, my baby's life, would be changed forever.

We were eventually moved to a regular room, but that's when they disconnect the IV and start the injections, and since you can't leave the hospital until they are convinced you can take care of your child, we had to give her the injections. We were discharged five days after diagnosis, and diabetes has been an uninvited guest ever since.