3 A.M.

It is 3 a.m. The kids are asleep and rolled up in their blankets in their beds. I have a cat wandering the house waiting for me to feed him. The other two cats are asleep on a bed in my room which I am beginning to call "The Dorm." The dog is in her crate dreaming about whatever dog's dream.. I am at my desk drinking honey vanilla chamomile tea.

It is 3 a. m. and the only sounds to break the silence are the dog's snoring and the desk radio softly playing classic country music. The only light that is illuminating the middle of the night darkness is coming from the computer monitor.

It is 3 a. m. and this has become my routine. Most nights at this hour, I can be found here at the computer or still in bed watching television or reading the book I need to catch up on.  I take in the peace of the house and use it to my advantage. I will more than likely be awake until 4:30 when I will turn off whatever electronic was on and go back to sleep until I hear the sounds of a child being awake. If I am lucky I will get another hour and a half of sleep.

It is 3 a.m. and many would wonder why has this mother made a routine of being awake in the middle of the night. Is the chaos and noise of raising four boys by herself driving her to find quiet for herself when they are asleep even though this costs her sleep? Does she enjoy the night time hours and feels more comfortable to be awake at this hour? Is she an insomniac? The answer is....

It is 3 a. m. and I just got jolted awake from much needed sleep by an alarm that is forever set to 3 a. m. that way I can test my 6 year old son who has Type 1 diabetes. I was woken up and I had to fight through bleary eyes, the warmth and softness of my bed, and the comfort of my cat sleeping next to my pillow to roll over and force myself to stand up. I grab the kit off the nightstand between our beds and place it on my bed to open it. I can feel the bed warmed from my body heat cooling off in the night air as I get the meter ready. I turn, take two steps and lean over the bed rails to find a hand. I place the hand in front of the meter's light, use the lancet to produce the necessary amount of blood and get the all too familiar test started. I hear the beep letting me know that the blood was accepted and the 5 second countdown begins. My eyes close after the beep as I try to keep some vestiges of sleepiness. If the reading is good, I can go back to sleep and the "middle of the night routine" will not begin.

It is 3 a. m. and I got a 72. It isn't a number I can let go of, return the meter to the kit, place the kit back to its customary place on the nightstand where it is literally an arms length away from me during the night, and go back to sleep. No this is a number where I go back to the kit and grab 3 glucose tabs. I manage to wake Deacon from his sleep because being tested in the night does not wake him up at all. I tell him he needs to eat those and I wander into the adjacent bathroom to use it. As I get myself a drink of water, I hear him crunching on the last glucose tab. I return to his bed and ask if he wants something to drink. Tonight he said yes. I give him his drink, tuck him back in and say that he will be safe for the night now and that I will see him in the morning. I wander downstairs, say hi to the cat and thank him for guarding the house, turn up the heat, turn on my computer and go place a cup of water in the microwave to heat up. As I wait for the computer to boot up, I turn on the radio and silently think about the recent string of low numbers at night. The microwave beeps and I place a tea bag in the water. I figure enough time has passed and I walk back upstairs to test Deacon to see if he has come up. He has and he is 117. I disturb his sleep one last time and say that I need his pump. I go into the basal settings and adjust the midnight and 3 a.m. ones one last time, create a slightly reduced temp basal and place the pump back into his pouch. I tuck the already sleeping Deacon back into his Toy Story covers and I go back downstairs to check email. The routine has begun.

It is 3 a. m. and I know that I am not the only parent of a child with diabetes who has been, is or will be awake tonight. The numbers will be different for us all. There will be frustrated groans, tears of worry and sighs of relief as each parent gets their result. Some of us will be lucky enough to go back to the warmth and comfort of our beds. Those of us who do get to go back to sleep feel as though they just won the lottery. Others will curse diabetes for the continuous highs and the disturbed sleep of both parent and child. Others will hurriedly treat a low and hold their breath for the prescribed 15 minute wait period between tests.

It is 3 a.m. and we are the silent army that maintains vigilance in keeping our children safe. Very few outside our community know what we go through every night. Our alarms may be set to different times but the result is the same. We are awake at least once a night to test and keep our children safe from the frightening lows or to ward off the highs which can cause complications down the road. Do our kids understand what we do every night for them? Maybe. Maybe not. But we know that we are doing what we must do to keep them safe and that is enough for us.

It is 5:01. My kids are safe, asleep and have no idea that I am on the computer and listening to the radio. I need another hour of sleep to prepare for our day of plans. Good night diabetes community. I will be back in a few hours to listen, commiserate and cheer about your nights.