10 Precious Fingers

I lay awake last night fighting back the tears.  I couldn't get the image of Hudson's tiny fingers out of my mind.  I don't know why they were so visible or why they stood out, but they did.  As I was washing his hands after his bedtime snack they were visible... all the tiny little scars of thousands of pokes were embedded like tiny war wounds on his tiny little fingers.  As I looked at his tiny scars it all seemed like a dream again.  Like this wasn't really happening.  That this whole diagnosis was a dream and I would wake up to a son who's body could function on its own with out needing me to be his pancreas for him.  Those tiny scars reminded me that this is permanent.. just like the pokes on his fingertips.  It will always be there. Those tiny, precious fingers I would count and kiss over and over when he was a newborn were now starting to scar.  As I hold his little hand I kiss each scar as best as I can.. because thats all a mom can really do.  I can't kiss away his pain or his disease but I can kiss each and every scar that I have helped create.  Some days I watch him as he plays or watches his cartoons.  I fight back tears as he unknowingly sucks on the tips of his fingers, unconsciously soothing the pain and the throbbing caused by constant poking and testing. He never once complains that they are bothering him.. but the scars tell a different story.  The beginning.
I think to myself and thank God as I lay in bed with the images of my son's fingers, I thank God in the silent whispers, for a happy, healthy little boy.  Yes, he is healthy, healthier maybe than most kids.  He is my little light when the unknown darkness of this disease creep in.  He is my reminder that every moment is precious.  He is my hope for a cure.  He is mine... All mine!!  And I would never trade him for anything... not even a million pancreases :)

** not really Hudson's fingers... but what his finger is starting to look like **