Being mom to two beautiful girls is quite the adventure! I love them dearly, and they continue to teach me about what life is truly about. I’ve mentioned my five year old often in these first few posts and have thoughts and stories to share about my younger daughter, too, but I thought I would first give some background on this very special part of my life. So here it is, an archived post sharing the first time I saw my daughter seize.
I can’t tell you the exact day I told my husband I love you. I can’t tell you the exact day my oldest took her first steps. I can’t tell you the exact day each of my girls’ smiles made me smile. But I remember each of these moments vividly regardless of the day they happened.
I can tell you the exact day I saw my youngest’s first seizure. I can vividly and painstakingly remember the terror that rushed through me as I realized what was happening to my baby girl.
My maternity leave was ending soon, and I was going back to a new role at work after Thanksgiving. Earlier that week I met some of my new colleagues and team members and was excited to get back at it! And while I’m typically big on waiting until after Thanksgiving to decorate for Christmas I knew life was only going to get busier so I started to unpack the Christmas boxes that had been brought up from the basement. I had made some headway while my baby was napping. She woke up and we did our normal eat, play, (hopefully) poop routine. She had just started laughing in the last couple of days and today I caught in on my phone and sent the video to my family. Later she was getting fussy (definitely a colicky baby) and after several attempts to console her, I put her down in the bassinet. Vibrator on. Success.
After a short twenty minute nap and a few more decorations up, I saw those beautiful eyes. I had just started on a new box so I moved her down to her play mat to finish unpacking it. To finish unpacking the nativity scene. As I focused on carefully unwrapping each piece, a few minutes had gone by and I went to say hi and give her a big smile, about to start setting up the manger scene on the fireplace.
“Hiii sweetie. Honey, sweeeetie… what are you doing?” Her eyes focused to the right, head cocked, body pulsing. [Screaming her name over and over and not responding] I swooped her up, body against mine. Searching for my phone (WHAT is happening?!) both gasping for air with my tears soaking her face, I finally pick up the house phone we just got and dialed 911.
I could easily walk through the next several hours accounting every minute in this detail even three years later. We stayed at the hospital for a few nights. It was terrifying but everything was coming back negative and all signs of cat scans, EEG, lumbar punctures and other tests I’d never heard of looked clean. Phew. We left the hospital thankful for what we hoped was a fluke. We left without any daily meds or the thought of needing a diagnosis.
We returned to the ER two days after being released. Today, the ER staff often knows her name.
I can tell you the day that life changed forever in a way we never expected. I can tell you the day I realized I’m not in control.
I can tell you the day I knew how truly worrisome life is.
I can tell you the day I understood how wonderful life is.
I can tell you here. So I will.