Raising an Eyebrow

Thursday night my older son (8 years old) wet the bed for the first time since toddlerhood. He had fallen asleep that night an hour and a half before his regular bedtime. It made sense; he was exhausted after a busy day, sleeping in a different house where getting up to go downstairs to the bathroom might have been a tad bit too scary. He fell asleep without having a chance to go to the bathroom first, so it's not that odd that he wet the bed.

It all makes sense, right? Perfectly logical.

Try as I might, though, I couldn't squash that nagging little thought in the back of my head... What if? Could it be? Why is he so tired? Why did he wet the bed? Stay calm, stay calm...

He went to the bathroom twice in the space of about an hour that morning. The second time, I looked at my husband and raised an eyebrow.

No, Kass, he's fine. He's healthy and energetic and fine. He inherited your blue eyes and your cautious nature but he did not inherit this. Stay calm.

At dinnertime, my husband pulled out his meter to test (yes, he's T1 too). Casually, I said, "Do you think Jake would test?" My mom, having picked up on the vibe, asked Jake to show her how it's done. He happily complied.

95.

Exhale.

I knew the stats going in, when deciding to have children. I also know there are people out there who think it's irresponsible of a person with diabetes (let alone two people with diabetes) to have children and risk passing on the disease. And even those who don't pass judgement on the decision often ask if our kids have it.

Before starting a family, we did the math and learned that our offspring would have about a 17% chance of getting diabetes. 83% chance of being in the clear. Decent odds, for sure. Neither of us have families where diabetes 'runs'... that, surely, made our odds seem stronger.

I told myself when I got pregnant that if my kids did develop diabetes it would be a whole different disease by then, and possibly even cureable (how odd that I do not dare hope for a cure for myself, yet wish for one against the chance my sons will develop it). Diabetes is certainly different then when I was diagnosed in 1986 and vastly different then it was when my husband developed it in 1968. But it's still diabetes, and because of that I have these occasional moments of panic. If it happens, it happens, and we'll deal with it, no doubt. But I sure hope it never happens.