Here’s the strange thing about trauma. The after effects of it sneak up on you and jump on your back in the strangest of ways and when you least expect it.

One of the strangest things about this whole thing with The Girl is for the first time as a mother when something horrible happened to one of my children I actually don’t blame myself. Which in and of itself is strange. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t allow her to hurt herself. It wasn’t that I wasn’t paying close enough attention or not watching her closely enough. This thing came out of nowhere. There was no way to prevent or foretell a febrile seizure. I followed my instincts and called 911 the minute I thought something was wrong. I stayed with her the entire time at the hospital (except for about 2 hours when I went home to get clean clothes). I asked so many questions of the doctors and nurses I thought they might gag me. I did everything right. And I have complete confidence in that, so there is no guilt.

But there is definitely fear. And some sort of post traumatic stress or something. Because the first time I walked back into our family room I panicked. I started sobbing when I looked at the place on the floor where I laid her when she was seizing. Every time I don’t have my eyes on her I have to fight the urge to find her immediately and make sure she’s ok. Even when she is in my direct eye line I have these waves of panic come over me out of nowhere.

Going back to the hospital today to get her follow up chest x-ray to check up on the pneumonia was a bit on the terrifying side for me. Having the x-ray tech ask me what had been happening and having me rattle off like a practiced pro “She had a Simple Tonic Clonic Febrile Seizure most likely caused by severe pneumonia,” was just surreal.

But as the doctor and I agreed today, as soon as I can get over the trauma, we can get everything back to normal.

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