Things I didn’t know about life with T1D 15 years ago:

That a baby could develop T1 diabetes.

That my baby could be so poorly it wasn’t clear whether she would come back from hospital to the home she had been born in.

That my baby would grow into a toddler with clouds of curly hair.

That I possessed the ability to absorb far more important information than I ever thought I could.

That I would never, ever pause or flinch, not even once, when mixing and injecting her twice daily insulin injections. (This I attribute to the fact that I carried a baby into hospital who was very close to death. It is amazing ((although not really)) what one can do with that experience and desire to never return to that place again.)

That I could be enough for her.

That managing T1D was not simple.

That the reality doesn’t really remotely fit the embryonic information you are drip fed in an attempt to not overwhelm you with the enormity of the task that lies ahead.

That the drawers round the back of a pharmacy don’t, in fact, hold every medication known to man.

That waiting for those drawers to herald the items written on the prescriptions would drive me to tears of frustration, worry and exhaustion.

That, every single day since that day of diagnosis, I will, at some point, wonder whether either of my other children would also join their sister on her side of the path.

And a million other things, the majority of which I’ve yet to learn.

Things I didn’t need to worry about 15 years ago:

How our family could afford to fund the medications that were now essential to keep us as a family of four (now five).

We are so, so fortunate that chance meant we were born into a society that views healthcare as a human right. Aneurin Bevan, the “father” of the UK’s NHS summed this up perfectly. “Illness is neither an indulgence for which people have to pay, nor an offence for which they should be penalised, but a misfortune, the cost of which should be shared by the community.”

So remembering all of the above, our family willingly spares all the roses every valentine’s day and each and every month too.

We may not be able to cure T1D yet, but I can stand by those mothers & fathers who know all my fears, but have the added worry of a financial impact on scant familial income.

No mummy should ever have to choose between her children because she cannot afford the medications one child needs when she has others to feed too.

Please, please, spare a donation to Life for a Child today. The impact your donation will have is immense. Do it now.

http://www.LFACInternational.org/SpareARose

Thank you xx