I have been feeling really weird and out of it lately. And as I was trying to explain the whole thing to my mom this morning, something dawned on me. I think that mother guilt is almost easier to deal with than the simple not knowing when or if something will strike.

I’ve had several instances that should definitely be nominated for the “Worst Mother of the Year” award. Like when me opening The Boy’s door to his room caused his first tooth to be knocked out. Or when I let The Girl swallow a quarter last year which then got stuck in her esophagus and had to be surgically removed. Or when I let The Boy fall down an entire flight of stairs when he was just starting to crawl.

But this whole seizure thing with The Girl came out of nowhere and I didn’t do anything wrong, nor should I have done anything different. So there really is not any guilt surrounding it for me. At least when there’s guilt then I can learn from my fuck up and do something different in the future. With this, I just have to wait and see. She may have another seizure tomorrow or she may never have another one again.

And this not knowing; this inability to change anything in my mothering to prevent this, in addition to the suddenness of it all has caused some fairly severe whiplash. I was plugging along really well. Applying for jobs, kicking ass on the pro bono projects I had taken on, starting to build on the late night idea for a pretty cool foundation, remembering all the stuff I needed to do for both kids’ schools. All the everyday sort of stuff as well as the ongoing work needed for this journey was coming along pretty well. I was focused and alert and completely in the moment. It was good.

Now? Now I’m all achy and weirded out and fuzzy. And I feel like I’m floundering trying to find my bearings again. It is a very strange feeling to know that you did everything right and still ended up smacking into that brick wall going 80 mph.

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