It had been an exhausting week. My 18-month-old daughter, Emma, woke up one morning with her first stomach bug. Having enjoyed robust health her entire life, I thought it was simply her turn to catch a virus. She was sick for what felt like an eternity, vomiting once or twice each day until she finally seemed to be on the mend. “Finally!” I thought to myself. “Life can go back to normal.”
Little did I know how mistaken I was.
The next morning, I woke up feeling queasy myself. And thus began the longest day of my life. After a torturous day spent in bed, I finally felt well enough to venture out. Still nauseous and groggy, I was sipping ginger ale while Emma played with the condensation on the glass. As I chatted with her, she suddenly stared blankly through me. Then, in what felt like slow motion, she collapsed backward onto the floor.
Confusion washed over me. It didn’t occur to me what was happening at first. I rushed to pick her up and instantly realized she was seizing.
“Call 911!” I screamed to my husband, Mark, as I held her in my arms, her body shaking violently. Her eyes were rolled back, her breathing erratic, and she was making gurgling noises, completely unresponsive. Mark frantically dialed emergency services while I desperately relayed our address, pleading with them to hurry.
Fear consumed me as I held my daughter. After what felt like an eternity, she stopped shaking and fell asleep in my arms. Mark and I burst into tears.
“This must be a febrile seizure, right?” I asked him. Knowing they were common in toddlers with fevers, I clung to that hope.
But once we arrived at the hospital, Emma began to scream and continued doing so for hours, interspersed with what seemed like absence seizures. However, she didn’t have a fever.
Fast forward six months: one more grand mal seizure, two normal EEGs, and countless absence seizures later, we are still waiting for a diagnosis.
Before this, I never thought I would face such a reality. Until that week, Emma had rarely even had a sniffle; now, I find myself as the mother of a child grappling with complex health issues. Nothing can truly prepare you for witnessing your child seize in your arms. The endless tests, medications, and hospital visits with a toddler are overwhelming.
At night, I lie awake, consumed with worry. I fret over the possibility of another seizure, the upcoming tests, and what the results may reveal. What does the future hold for her health? Will she outgrow this condition? Will she still be having seizures as a teenager? Is her speech delay linked to the seizures? What are the long-term effects of her medication? Will we ever receive a diagnosis?
I don’t have answers to any of these questions. So much remains uncertain, and I may never have the clarity I seek. Yet, I do know one thing: Emma is strong. She is courageous. I often wish I had half her determination. I’ve never met a child so resolute—traits that have made her toddler years challenging for me but will undoubtedly serve her well in adulthood. She is a tiny warrior who will overcome every obstacle. I eagerly anticipate who she will become. Seizures won’t define her.
In the meantime, I will continue to worry, wait, and advocate for her. I will do everything in my power to seek answers to my many questions. Taking a cue from her resilience, I will strive to be the strong mom she needs.
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Summary:
This article provides a heartfelt account of a mother, Mia, dealing with the unexpected challenges of having a child prone to seizures. It explores her fears, the ongoing search for a diagnosis, and her determination to advocate for her daughter, Emma. The narrative highlights the emotional toll of witnessing a child’s seizures, the uncertainty of health outcomes, and the resilience required to navigate this complex journey.