My Heart

To date, Tommy has given me three heart attacks. The first was when I was 15 weeks pregnant and started bleeding. I didn't know him yet, but I couldn't imagine life without him. The second was, of course, the night he was born. Beautiful and amazing as that was, it was also scary.

Last night was heart attack number three. It's really hard for me to type this and I struggled with whether or not to share this, because there are some things that you just don't want to say. And yet, there are also some things that you need to say, but I also want to say that we have the best care and have tests scheduled and someday, I am going to ground him SO HARD for scaring me.

Last night after dinner, Tommy had a seizure. I didn't know it was a seizure until he clamped down on my finger so hard that I didn't know how I was going to get it out of his mouth. We thought he was choking because he fell on the floor and his eyes were closed and his lips were blue and his little body was so stiff. I was holding him and I've never been more scared in my life, but we had the best 911 dispatcher ever (seriously, we owe our lives to these people) who talked us through it and helped me realize that he was breathing and confirmed that it sounded like a seizure when I said I thought that he was having a seizure. He opened his eyes finally but wouldn't look at me or couldn't look at me and then the first responder arrived and said, "I was here the night he was born!"
Really. He said that. I wanted to hug him for knowing just what to say. As if wanting to see someone who'd seen him as a newborn, Tommy opened his eyes and focused and he was still SO PALE but he was responding to us. Then the police cars and the firemen started arriving and I kept thinking, Gosh, the neighbors must be tired of us. And the first responder kept telling everyone how Tommy was born right here and when the EMTs came, one of them was there the night Tommy was born (my choirs of angels singing EMTs, remember?) It made my heart feel good because I trusted her. By this time, Tommy was totally awake and alert and trying to get off my lap and get into the EMTs' bags, as only Tommy could do. We almost felt silly calling then because he was this healthy, happy toddler, you know? Except that he gave us the scare of our lives. We decided to instead get him into the pediatrician first thing instead of transporting to the ER. (And my Lukey was so brave through all of this and sat on the couch and told everyone how Tommy was his little brother and how he was excited for Halloween and he told me later that he was a little scared but you wouldn't have even known.)

A few hours after they left, Shane and I remembered something that happened Sunday and realized that maybe he had a little seizure on Sunday. After talking to the doctor, he's pretty sure that both were seizures. And although my mama instinct tells me he's fine, every time he moves funny, my heart races and I keep thinking of his little closed up face in my arms.

I know this is disjointed, but I'm so tired. I was up every hour last night checking on Tommy, who slept just fine. Of course. And now I'm thinking ahead to tomorrow, when I have to keep Tommy up until midnight so that he's good and sleep deprived for an EEG (because he's had neither a fever nor vaccinations any time recently, we can't just brush it off as a febrile seizure) Thursday morning. And although I don't really want diagnoses or guesses at what's going on with him (seriously, I'm not even Googling this), I would like to know how on earth I might keep a baby awake until midnight, because APPARENTLY I can't give him caffeine. I know, right? I'm tired just thinking about it.

Right now? I am so tired that my eyes burn and my legs hurt and I would like a big hug. The kind where you can just put your head on someone's shoulder and not think for a minute.