The Wall

I hit a wall of sorts yesterday. Through most of this ordeal with The Girl, I’ve been relatively focused, calm and undramatic. But yesterday it all just sort of sunk in. And the hysteria I worked so hard to keep at bay and bury started to rear its ugly head. I started to have this overwhelming sense of panic come at me from all directions and with no notice. Panic at the thought of leaving her, even just to leave the room. Panic at the thought of waking up one morning and finding her blue and lifeless in her bed after having another seizure in the middle of night where no one could hear her.

And I know that I always am exactly where I am supposed to be. Even when, especially when, it’s hard to be there. But this kind of fear is unlike anything I’ve ever tackled before. The quality of this fear makes it hard to breathe and function. It makes me want to put The Girl and me in a bubble and just stay there. It makes me not trust anyone else to take care of her but me. It makes me not trust her little body to sustain her.

I cannot get her fever to break. She’s had this fever, to varying degrees since Saturday around lunch and I cannot get it to break. And that in and of itself is nerve wracking and terrifying.

I was starting to carve a new path for myself. Working on starting a new foundation, working on going back to work so that I can help sustain my family and my sanity, working on being more true to who I am.

And now I feel paralyzed again. By fear and uncertainty and by the fact that anytime I try to do anything that would even remotely take me away from my children, the universe pulls the rug out from underneath me and puts me right back into full on mommy mode. And I cannot even begin to describe the guilt that comes even having these thoughts. My daughter just had a seizure and I’m whining about not being able to get a job?! Seriously…

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