As a parent, let me tell you. No matter how many grand mal seizures you watch your child experience, they NEVER get easier. Not for me. I was terrified to be alone with my own child. Do you have any idea how that made me feel as a mother? I was afraid. Of my 3-year-old child.
After a series of grand mals one night, Hubby went to work the next morning. Even though I begged and pleaded and cried in fear, wanting, NEEDING him to stay. I called my friend who lived a couple blocks away. I told her I'd call if he started seizing again, so she could come over and be with Raven in case I needed to go to the hospital.
The Beast started. I looked away. I called my friend. I started timing. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. "I'm going to the hospital."
We lived only a few blocks away from the hospital. When I arrived he was still seizing. I scooped up my boy and ran into the front doors, in my pajamas, bare foot, screaming for help. They took him from my arms. I collapsed. People stared at me with their hands over their mouths. Someone came and picked me up off the floor. It was like the scene of a movie.
He stopped seizing just as they were inserting the IV. He cried. He cried and cried and cried. I cried. He was scared. I was scared. We were scared.
I thank God everyday that he led us to a cure for this awful disease. My heart is racing reliving that moment. It will always be with me. I will always be afraid. It's not like we as mothers don't worry enough about our children the way it is.
Yes, he's in remission. Thank you God. But will it happen again? What if he's riding his bike? What if he's climbing the monkey bars? What if he's at the top of the slide? What if he's swimming? What if he's driving?
It will never end. I will always worry. I have to put my faith in God and trust that He will take care of my boy.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11
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