I am finally at peace

As I sit in my bed, surrounded by insulin pump catalogs, I feel at peace. 

At peace with this new life. 

At peace with the handful of new responsibilities I've had to take on.

At peace with my diagnosis.

Never had I thought I would find myself in a situation like this, yet here I am jotting down pros + cons for a machine I'm about to have attached to me, for the rest of my life.. all with a smile on my face. 

It's taken a while for me to get to this point & I can't put into words how good it feels to finally be here. To wake up in the morning and think to myself, "Shit could be worse." Rather than, "Why me?" 

Although I'm grateful to be waking up with a more positive mindset + outlook, I feel that the "Why me?" stage played a huge role in my healing. It was necessary to cry, to scream, and at times, hate the universe for what it had put in my path. For every tragedy, no matter the tragedy, there seems to be a healing process we all must go through, in order to move forward// Confusion: why me?, anger: I hate my life, sadness: my life is over, acceptence: shit could be worse, confidence: I can do this. 

This diagnosis has shown me how strong of a woman I truly am. Way stronger than I have ever, or would have ever given myself credit for, had I not been diagnosed. So in a sense, I have thanks to give. Not because I enjoy having this illness, but because I know now, I can handle ANYTHING this crazy thing we call life, throws my way. No matter the situation, there is always something to give thanks for. Always. It may have taken me longer than expected to realize that, but I realized it + that's what matters. 

In less than a week I will have to make my decision. Omnipop vs. Medtronic. No matter the route I choose to go, diabetes will no longer be something that brings me down. I can do this. I will do this. 

I am finally at peace. 

I continue to thank you all for the non-stop support + love you've sent my way! I appreciate you all more than you know. Thank you for reading + visiting the RadAndRebellious// happy Monday xx

Love + heartbreak// a heart shattering beauty

Love. 

Such a beautiful thing. 

Something so beautiful, that if lost, can be heart shattering. 

I've always been one to wear my heart on my sleeve. To love too hard & to give too much. I was raised to fight for what I love. To never give up + to pick myself up when the tough times get me down. 

Many might think those are wonderful traits to possess, and in all honesty, they are. But they can easily translate to some of the worst. For at times, my loving too hard can scare people off, giving my absolute all can result in being taken advantage of, and fighting for something I love can sometimes remind me that, as hard as it may be, I should only be fighting for others that are willing to fight for me. 

To find someone you can see yourself spending the rest of your life with, is such a beautiful thing. 

Something so beautiful, that if lost, can be heart shattering. 

My current state of mind is foggy. I'm not sure what I feel other than the overwhelming heartbreak. My brain is focused on so many things, while my heart is focused on one single thing. Him. 

After the ugly break up I endured with my son's father, I couldn't see myself going through that kind of emotional trauma again. I didn't think feeling that alone was possible a second time around. Yet here I am, crying into my pillow, feeling that same heart break I felt two years ago... 10x stronger. 10x harder. 10x worse. 

Our hearts are such incredibly strong organs. They keep us all alive-- yet break us all down to what feels like a million pieces, in life changing times like these. 

Let it be known, that my heart's current condition is far from pretty. That I'm not sure it could heal from a blow like this.

...that I'm not sure it'll ever be strong enough, to open up to someone again. 

Let it be known, that aside from my aching heart + frazzled mind, I will continue to fight. But this time, that fight will no longer be for him, that fight will be for me. 

Because I deserve to be fought for. 

Love. 

Such a beautiful thing. 

Something so beautiful, that if lost, can be heart shattering. 

"Ugly crying" | it's good for the soul

Have you ever ugly cried? I'm not talking about the mellow dramatic sobbing + wiping of sniffles cry, I'm talking, the super ugly, obnoxious grunting, loud cry. Your answer should be yes. 

"Ugly crying" it's good for the soul. 

I met with my endocrinologist (diabetes specialist) doctor early this morning for the very first time. Scuffling in 10 minutes late looking like I had been hit by a bus. I may or may not have been wearing clothes that resembled pj's, too. But I had my usual trenta iced coffee in hand so all was swell in my book. Or at least I thought so in that moment. 

It seemed as if I waited in that bone chilling waiting room for an enternity. Eventually the nurse called me in, weighed me, asked a handful of awkward questions + pricked my finger for blood. You know, the usual. The doctor finally came in and introduced himself. Well mannered, nicely dressed and ready to get to business. He talked what sounded like jibberish to me for over an hour. Let me point out that my attention span is about the size of a peanut, which made it extremely difficult to keep up with everything he was saying. After an absurd amount of asked questions and hundreds of explanations later, he ended the appointment by handing me a stack of insulin pump booklets to read through. 

Insulin pumps scare me. Everything about them freaks me out. The tubes, the large pager looking machine that has to be attached to my body, everythjng. Not to mention, they're incredibly un-sexy. 

I got home from my appointment, stormed into my room & threw every booklet I had just received, onto my bed. Dropped to the floor, and "ugly cried." My grandma tried her hardest to console me the best she could, but all I could do was continue to cry. I've done this at least once a day since being diagnosed + have learned that it helps. There is nothing wrong with crying & there is nothing wrong with being sad. This is something I've come to realize a lot more in the past few weeks, than ever before in my 23 years of life. 

My mind is frazzled. So frazzled. I can't seem to focus on any diabete related topic anymore, no matter how hard I try. It's like my brain has stopped functioning correctly. Too much information, too fast. I'm tired. Just... tired. 

My heart is crushed. I wish this was all a bad dream. That I could wake up tomorrow morning and go back to living my life the way I used to. The way every woman in her early 20's should. I have a long journey ahead of me. It may not be the journey I had envisioned for myself, but it's a journey nonetheless. I am alive, and for that I will be forever grateful. 

Alone: Dealing with miscarriage// A guest post by TODAYWITHJ

Hello, my name is Kelly. I have been happily married to my husband, Joshua, for 2 1/2 years. Together we have a 13 month old son, Joshua Jr ("J" for short), and two babies in Heaven. Today, I am writing on my feelings after the loss of my children.

"1 out of 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage, it's normal, you are not alone." I cannot tell you how many times I've heard those exact words. Every blog post I've read about coping with a miscarriage, every person who tried to reach out to me after mine, searching for peace, doctors, midwives, other moms who have been through it, everything I tried to find comfort in lead me to those words, and every single time I thought to myself "then why do I feel so alone?" These words made me feel like it was wrong of me to feel alone after the loss of my child, because it was such a normal thing.

I've never felt more alone than I felt in the hospital bed surrounded by nurses and doctors, with my husband holding me with one arm and wiping the tears out of his eyes with the other, while reassuring me "we'll get through this, baby." I've never felt more alone than the moment I saw my precious baby's tiny, lifeless body for the very first and very last time. I've never felt more alone in my emotions than when I begged the doctor to tell me if it was a girl and when he softly whispered "yes, a girl," so much heartache along with a tiny piece of happiness and joy over the fact that I now was a mom to a little baby girl. I was alone. I was surrounded by people, family, friends, and strangers for the next few weeks, but I was alone. I wanted my girl, and without her, I was alone.

A few months went by and I was slowly coming to terms with my loneliness. I was getting out of the house again, and I was feeling like myself again. My husband and I were given the "ok" to try again, and that is exactly what we did. It didn't take long until we found out we were expecting. I knew it was fate, this new little life was my understanding as to why our last pregnancy didn't work out. I found myself happy again, ecstatic, even. This was my second chance. My first appointment my husband took off work to take me to. It was ultrasound time! We finally get to see our new miracle, our rainbow. And there in that room, surrounded by ultrasound equipment, techs, my husband, our son, and my midwife, I was alone all over again. Our baby did not have a heartbeat. I felt like time had stopped. My midwife was leaning over me with her hand on mine, I saw her lips moving, I knew she was talking but all I was hearing was ringing in my ears. Finally, I heard the three words that made everything seem better "wait it out." I cried out "YES!" I knew in the next few weeks my baby would have a heartbeat. So we waited, then came appointment day. Is it ok to have two worst days of your life? Because this was one of them. I ended up having to have an emergency D&C, because my body had become septic. Again, I was alone. Maybe even more alone than before. I never got to see or hold my little baby, I never found out the sex, nor the due date. I never got to give our angel a name. Lonely is the best way to describe my feelings, but no, I wasn't, because "1 out of 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage, it's normal, you're not alone."

It's not the statistics that bother me, although it saddens me to know how many people go through it. It bothers me the way people throw it out while someone is coping with a loss. I've never seen someone throw out the statistics of the loss of any other family member, but an unborn child. I understand letting someone know that it is not their fault this happened, because it is common. I understand, and highly appreciate when others who have gone through it reach out and let you know they're here for you. But, how you say it and why you say it makes a huge difference. I shouldn't feel "normal" over the loss of my children, nor do I want to. I am lonely, and I'm here to tell anyone that has gone through it too that it is ok to feel this way.

I have no idea how I would have made it through my miscarriages if it wasn't for my son. He finds ways to bring a smile to my face on my worst days, and he makes my good days even better.

Thanks for reading! And also, a huge thanks to the lovely Vanessa for allowing me to be a guest on her blog. <3

Any questions or comments for me, you can find me on Instagram (@todaywithj) or Facebook (Kelly Jones) - the links are in my personal blog - ohlittlewonder.blogspot.com

Today was a good day

Something I haven't had much of this past month. Something I appreciate so very much when it does happen. 

My sugar levels are still all over the place. If graphed, they would look remarkably similar to a laboring woman's contraction charts. That bad. From 300 down to 70, back up to 250, then leveled out at 105. It's all a damn mess, that's truly what this "honeymoon stage" is. But today, unlike yesterday, I was able to laugh it off and move forward. Inject some insulin + continue on with my day without a care in the world. Trying to figure out why everyday can't be like today. 

Today was a good day. 

Jonah was a good boy. Don't get me wrong, he's a great kid, but as I've mentioned in previous blog posts, he drives me up the walls. Terrible twos// they really are terrible. But today, they seemed a little less terrible + a little more manageable as opposed to the days I want to rip my hair out & scream into my pillow. 

As many of you may know, since being diagnosed with t1d, I've been staying with my mother in Egypt, aka Fontana. After nearly 3 weeks I began to desperately miss home. My bed. My couch. My off the wall grandmother + grumpy grandfather. I missed all of it. So home is where I'm at tonight. Home sweet home. 

I had an enormous authentic Mexican plate for dinner + for once, neglected to count carbs and stress about what it would do to my sugar levels. Thankfully + surprisingly, it did absolutely nothing. 

I'm now comfy in bed, with a freshly bathed snuggle bug cuddled up to me. I have a trenta iced coffee staring at me from my nightstand + Grey's Anatomy waiting for me to press play on Netflix. Tonight is sweet. So perfect. Tomorrow might be the total opposite of today, but as for right now I. Am. Happy. I am content. I am blessed. I'm soaking all of these positive vibes in, in hopes they overflow into tomorrow + the next days to come. 

On a side note :: Happy Father's Day to all of the nurturing daddy souls out there, to all of the mamas that pull double shifts and to all of the anxious daddies to be. Hoping your day was delicious + sweet. 

Here's a litte taste of my very own delicious day to end your night. Wishing you all the sweetest dreams from this hunk of love + I. Thank you for visiting the RadAndRebellious // xo

But, I'm not so sure I could

It's incredible really, the overflowing support + encouraging words I've been receiving from people all around the world. Instagram can be a beautiful thing if you let it. It's heart warming to see how many people care about my well being. So with that being said, thank you all for being beautifully kind.  

I hope + wish + pray for all of your touching words of encouragement to make me feel all better, but unfortunately, they don't. Yes, they may make me smile and feel positive for a short period of time, but eventually that temporary positivity wears off + the overwhelming sadness sets in. I hear people all around me, tell me day in and day out that I'll be okay + that I'll overcome this...

But, I'm not so sure I could. 

Today was hard. Really fucking hard. I had to talk myself into getting out of bed this morning, deal with a blood sugar reading of 400+ ALL day, despite the 20 needles I've stuck my body with, I've prayed, I've cried, I've screamed. I've lost all hope. 

Tomorrow could be different. It could be better. It could be easier. But in this moment, I feel hopeless. I feel terrible, not only physically, but emotionally. My son is going through this difficult time with me. Seeing me cry in bed for hours during these tough days, watching me flinch with every shot I inject myself with, hugging + holding me while my hands shake uncontrollably. My heart hurts for me, but aches so deeply for him. I wish so badly I could wake up tomorrow morning and be HAPPY again. The way I was right before my diagnosis. But I know that's wishing for a miracle. 

You know what sucks the most? Feeling like a burden. My family, my boyfriend, + my friends could tell me till they're blue in the face, that I'm anything but a burden, but I will forever feel that way. 

I don't want to be worried about. I don't want my mother going to sleep scared of how she'll find me in the morning. I don't want any of this. Who does?

Slipping into a depression is a scary thing. It's as if you lose all control over your body, your emotions, your mind. You just... lose control. 

People tell me all the time that I can overcome this. But, I'm not so sure I could. 

The sweetest love I've ever known

Jonah's been driving me up the walls the past few weeks. Heck, he's been driving me up the walls a lot longer than the past few weeks, but more so now, than ever before. As he nears the home stretch of his second year of life, I find myself wondering how much longer these "terrible twos" will truly last. Will they linger into his third + fourth year? Will his two-nager personality and stubborn toddler tude' change over night? I'm not quite sure & at this point, only time will tell. 

But aside from the crazy days I've endured + the even crazier days I'm sure will be thrown my way, I feel so lucky, that underneath his rebellious personality that continues to drive me nuts, to the constant skinned knees + rough house playing, my boy is a lover. A sweet, sweet soul with a heart of gold. 

Although I'm sure he's loved me since the day he was born, his new + favorite thing to do is tackle me with bear hugs that make me fall to my knees, + whisper in my ear, "I love my mama." 

This truly is the sweetest love I've ever known. 

Being a mother has it's definite ups and downs. Maybe even more downs than ups at times, and I know firsthand how frustrating those "hard times" could be. I lose my cool, I scream + cry, I lock myself in the bathroom for that one single minute of silence. I AM HUMAN. Don't ever feel like you are anything less than a good mother for freaking out now & then. What is a good mother? There is no definition. Because at the end of each day, no matter how good or bad of a day we label it, our children love us for the crying one minute laughing the next, crazy mamas we are. We are blessed to know this love. We are blessed to have this life. We are blessed. 

Always remember that, and always remember, you're pretty damn rad for all that you do. 

Wishing you all a joyous weekend with your little babes + beautiful families. Thank you for visiting the RadAndRebellious // xo

Diabetic "sick" days :: pros + cons

Being that I've only been a type 1 diabetic for one week now, I'm no where near knowing all there is to know about the disease. I feel as if I'm back in school, without being back in school. I have a binder filled with diabetic study guides, notebooks + folders in every corner of my house & super cute colored gel pens to log all of my sugar count info with. Hey, I'm a girl with certain things (gel pens being one of them.)

I'm learning and learning and learning some more. My poor brain has been filled with so much information over the past week I could cry. And I do. Thankfully, my family understands that there will be days that I'm happy + feel okay, and there'll be days where I'm not so happy (okay, extremely upset) + cry for hours on end. It's hard.. All of this is hard, and exhausting to say the least. Not only for myself, but for my family, that wishes so deeply they could "fix" me and take me out of this dark place I'm in. 

Like everything else, diabetes has it's pros and it's cons. You might be thinking, "this girl is crazy, what pros could there possibly be to having an uncurable chronic illness?" And I know I sound crazy, but it's true. 

PROS::

1. I get priority when I go out to a restaurant. I simply let my waiter know I'm a diabetic + need a meal quicky & they will always figure out a way to make it happen.

2. If I don't feel well, I don't need to explain why. I can blurt the word diabetes and people will take it for what it is, no questions asked. 

3. If my blood sugar drops incredibly low (below 70) I can stuff my face with delicious sweets to bring it back up to the norm // no guilt whatsoever 

4. I'm basically forced to eat healthier + treat my body the way it should be treated (diabetic or not) 

5. I can turn this unfortunate diagnosis into something positive. Not sure what that positive is yet, but in due time I will. 

CONS:: 

1. This disease has no cure. I will have to deal with constant finger pricks + insulin shots for the remainder of my life.

2. Some days, for lack of better words, I feel like absolute shit. Diabetes has a way of taking a toll on someone's body + sometimes, something as simple as getting out of bed in the morning seems nearly impossible. 

3. Being a mother, I live with constant fear that my son will be diagnosed in the future. As this disease is genetic, my child/and or future children will have a 50% chance of becoming a diabetic as well.

4. My vision isn't half as clear as it was before developing diabetes. 

5. Being looked at differently, by my family in particular. Rather than being seen as myself, I feel as if I'm being seen as a diabetic, first. Something I'll have to get used to.

There's so many more pros + cons to having this illness, but as for now, these are the top 10 I have noticed most since being diagnosed. 

Today was a good day. Waking up this morning was easy compared to the past few days. I enjoyed a "normal" lunch with a fellow diabetic. We shared our stories, type 1 tips, etc. His name is Conner (18) & is such an inspiration to me. So strong, and so positive. Something I hope to be as time progresses. I know this will all take time to adapt to. I know this journey will have it's ups and downs. & I know it'll get easier, it's just a matter of when. 

From here on out, my blog posts might shift a bit. A little less fashion related posts & a little more personal posts about myself and this new world I've been thrown into. I hope you all don't mind too much. Please comment below, letting me know if you have any questions/and or suggestions for future blog posts. Thank you for visiting the RadAndRebellious // xo

Somewhere between anger + relief

Diabetes. 

I don't even like the word. 

It's so ugly. 

I'm still trying to adapt to this entirely new life I've been forced to live. In a matter of one single day my lifestyle was flipped upside down. 

For months I didn't feel like myself. I was sluggish, finding it nearly impossible to get out of bed each morning, and once I did, my vision would completely black out for a good 30 seconds. I was thirsty, all. the. time, guzzling up to 12-15 bottles of water a day + that still didn't seem to quench my unbelievable thirst. My legs + feet would go numb/tingle all throughout the day. I found myself in the bathroom more often than not, peeing more in those few months than I ever had in my life. Excruciating headaches became the norm + I was beginning to feel (and look) like an adolescent teen with my uncontrollable breakouts. My body was failing me, and as hard + long as I tried to ignore what my body was telling me & tried to put it off, I knew it was time to face the fact, that none of these symptoms I was living with, were normal. 

I walked into my doctors appointment early that morning with a nauteous, empty stomach. I couldn't get myself to eat a single thing before leaving home. I had always thought something was wrong, but I've always been a bit of a hypochondriac so that wasn't unusual. I waited in that cold doctor's office twiddling my thumbs, terrified. The doctor walked in and as I began to explain to her how I had been feeling, her expression never really changed. That wasn't like her. 

They took a urine sample + pricked my finger with that tiny needle that always seems to hurt more than an actual syringe shot. My blood sugar came up at 591.. the doctor didn't believe it, which led to me having to get pricked again. This time, 550. Both very high. My doctor walked in and looked as if she wanted to cry, she went on to say, "I'm so sorry Vanessa, I have some really bad news." She explained that my urine tested positive for ketones (sugar in my urine) & continued to say that my blood sugar was so high she suggested I get to the emergency room as soon as possible. Thankfully my sister came to my rescue + picked me up to take me, as my doctor refused to let me drive myself. 

I cried.. and cried some more. Hell, I still cry from time to time. 

I'm stuck somewhere between anger + relief. 

Anger, because I'm still not understanding why this has happened to me. 

Relief, because if I hadn't gone into the doctors office that day, it could've been worse, I could've gone into a diabetic coma, and ultimately, I could have died. 

I'm currently in what the doctors like to call the "honeymoon stage." My body is still adapting to all of the insulin I'm now needing to inject into my body. It's crazy to think that I once used to be terrified of needles. I'm trying my hardest to get used to this new life. I'm trying my hardest to get used to giving myself up to 5-6 shots a day, every single day. I'm trying my hardest to accept that there will be days where my vision is blurred from the second I get out of bed in the morning, till the second I step back into bed, at night. I'm trying my hardest to get used to having bruises all over my stomach + legs from constant injections. 

I'm trying my hardest to realize that it could be worse. 

As hard as it may be, I thank god for guiding me to my doctor that day, for the amazing support system I have, for my mother that keeps me on track when I just want to give up and fall apart, and for my son, that keeps me going each day. 

This will get easier. I will get through this. I will be OKAY. 

Thank you to every single one of you that have kept me in prayer + sent well wishes. I can't put into words how much it truly has meant to have all of your support. Xo