Type 1 Diabetes,

You were undetected for a while, but once we found you, everything changed. At 23, I thought you were a premature death sentence. Life suddenly felt paused. I was afraid of carbs, exercise, alcohol, motherhood, and the future itself. But it did not take long to realize you were also something else: purpose and strength.

I was a college student who shifted from pre-dental to nursing because I wanted to become a diabetes educator. My own educator, Mary, helped me understand that T1D was manageable—that I could live a long, healthy life, fulfill my dreams, and not be defined by a diagnosis. She gave me hope, and I wanted to become that hope for others facing the same fear, worry, and dread I once felt.

Through nursing school, becoming a diabetes educator, and eventually a diabetes nurse practitioner, T1D led me to impact, advocacy, and purpose. Today, it has brought me to a role I dreamed of—being a member of the Clinical Education team at Dexcom - educating, supporting, and advocating for the community I care so deeply about.

It has also carried me through my greatest personal achievement: raising four remarkable children, the greatest loves and joys of my life. Motherhood is a gift I do not take for granted, especially because I once feared T1D might take that dream away from me.

And yet, as much as T1D has shaped me, I would give anything for it to disappear, especially from the lives of my children, Kate and Ryan. Living with T1D is one thing, watching my children live with it is something entirely different.

I will never forget the day I filled Kate’s first insulin prescription. She was 3, diagnosed less than 24 hours before. I was waiting outside the hospital pharmacy and thought to myself – I cannot believe my worst fear in life has just come true. I was numb, insanely sad, angry, and I just felt like I cannot believe this is the life we are now going to face. As I sat there with this mixture of heavy emotions, I glanced out the window and, in the courtyard, I saw this mother pushing her very young child in a wheelchair. The IV pole was full of so many bags of things, the child was frail, missing all their hair, and I could tell they were grateful for feeling fresh air, and possibly grateful for just one more day! And in that moment, I instantly changed my perspective on how my daughter’s life and our family life would go with you now in it. I said to myself, “I have got this, WE have got this”. It was that humble moment where I was reminded, that despite how much I knew this would be difficult, I knew it would be manageable where whatever that mother and her child were facing that day in the courtyard– they could not “manage it” themselves. So in that moment I felt gratitude for life, for the technology and the advancements my daughter would have and that we could manage you!

That moment, less than 24 hours after Kate’s diagnosis, was one of the most meaningful moments I have experienced as a parent of a child who was now living with a chronic health condition as it changed my perspective. And that is the thing, we all have these meaningful moments that can really help to support us, shape us, and change our perspective. If we can lean into them – pull on them when we need them, as our reminders that we can do this, we got this - it can make all the difference!

Another important moment was with Kate’s diabetes educator, Pam. It was during Kate’s new onset education, we met with Pam. I was already living with T1D and working as a diabetes educator, and Pam said to me “I am not sure what I will teach you today, but there is one thing I will say that is very important, always remember, Kate is more than a number”. Kate is Kate first—my daughter, a whole person with likes, dislikes, dreams, and has a life far bigger than diabetes. See Kate first, so when she walks through the door from school, see Kate, not diabetes. Ask her about her day, her friends, but do not start with diabetes. And that is how we have lived this entire time, and how we will continue to live.

I have always tried to be a more positive person, but do not get me wrong, there are times and moments where it seems you have the best of me or the best of my kids and I LOATHE you for that. Trying to be a Mom while dealing with a low glucose is one of the worst things ever – trying to stay standing on shaking legs, think through questions or being a support when I feel like at any moment I might die, that is a strength that many parents living with T1D know! We won’t let you win diabetes!

And in those moments where you’ve robbed my children from a moment – having to sit out of the game, getting excluded or teased because of you, or just making them feel like crap when all they want to do is be able to keep going – I HATE YOU FOR THAT DIABETES!!! You make everything harder sometimes, you drain us. But you know what – in those same moments – we are stronger than we know and as a result we tend to be stronger humans overall. So as my friend who also lives with T1D recently said to me, “two things can be true at the same time” and this fits so perfectly for you.

So T1D – I hate you and I love you! I hate you for the incredibly difficult moments where you make life harder, especially for my children however I love you for the strength, the purpose, the meaning, the community, and the impact I have been able to have because of you! I desperately hope there will be a day that no one has to deal with you ever again but until then, I will keep doing my best—for myself, for my children, leaning into our community and the people who get it, who support us. I will continue to live the best life I can – reminding myself and others who are impacted by you that we are more than you – we are more than a number and we always will be! People first, diabetes second.

Be well diabetes

Chelsea