The past two days have been some of the scariest, if not the scariest of my life. My baby boy has started having febrile seizures and we've spent the last two nights on the phone with 911, in ambulances, and at the hospital. I've been on the verge of panic attacks, feeling triggered by circumstances that proceeded his seizures, and we've been tested as a family. At the same time I realize how lucky I am. I know that many families have drawn a much worse lot in life. Many children who enter the hospital have far worse prognosis and outcomes. Yet, as a parent even a mild cold can make you question why you decided to become a parent when loving someone so much makes you so vulnerable.
After the first night I prayed for Henry not to have another seizure. I hoped with all my being that he would be in the majority of children who do not have repeat episodes. Last night I realized that that prayer wouldn't be answered. For a moment I thought "so much for praying," thinking "little help that did;" but, then I realized what I needed the most was to pray for something else.
As I fell asleep, I prayed for:
Awareness. That I might know when something is happening with him.
Wisdom. That I make the best decisions to keep him safe.
Calm. That I am able to remain calm and react without anxiety.
Faith. That I trust in his body, our response, our doctors, the medicine, and his ability to overcome.
Peace. That I might find peace with what is happening and be able to live without constant fear.
Hope. That I believe he will be okay and trust in the process.
Health. That we might be healthy and well and face no complications or other serious illness or injuries in the future.
Sometimes we don't have the answers and we must have hope. As scary as the unknown is, we can only live in the moment. As much as I want to hover over my baby boy I can't protect him from everything, nor will it prevent him from harm. I must live and I must let him live, trusting that we will all be okay.