so she'll sleep with us.

i should have known that this would happen. i should have known that as soon as i said how much i was loving my life, how much i was enjoying just living, reality would come crashing down and my serene time floating around in the clouds would explode into chaos. and so it has. i was living on the brink anyways, i suppose. i was expecting this, though i didn't know how or when or where. the doctors said it might, would, could happen again. and damn if it didn't.

it started last summer. two days after her 6th birthday. two months after she learned to ride her bike without training wheels. two weeks after she graduated from kindergarten. six years and two days after she graced the world with her sweet presence. and it was so scary.

i had been upstairs planning a playdate for the following day. i had just put her to bed...read her books and sang her songs. only a half hour had passed when matt called for me to come help with ella as she had gotten sick in bed. so we put her in the shower. and then. and then. and then. staring to the left. clenching her teeth. not responding. slow breathing. we got her out of the shower. called 911. "send an ambulance." called my parents. "come now." neighbor comes outside. "please watch summit. he's asleep." heart pounding. so scared. finally, the emt arrived and rushed her out to the ambulance. "she's seizing," was all he said. oh jesus.

on the ride, he couldn't get it to stop. it had been over an hour. he told the driver to hurry up. please hurry up. let me drive. someone help her. help me.

got to the children's hospital. doctors rushed to her. nurses ushered us into a waiting room. there's no waiting. only worrying. they should be called worrying rooms. shaking. shaking shaking. pacing. pacing. pacing. i needed to see her. "i was there when she came into this world. if she's leaving while i'm still here, then i will be there with her," i said. but they wouldn't let me in the room. doctors kept coming to give us updates and ask questions. must check for this. must check for that. rule out tumor. rule out meningitis. rule out encephilitis. rule out. rule out. rule out. they intubated her to help her breathe. finally. it stopped.

"you can see her now," they said. and there she was. my sun-kissed little girl who had only hours before been swimming, playing, reading. they had to cut off her yellow satin nightgown. she was unconscious. sedated. with a breathing tube down her throat, coming out of her mouth. i could see where tears had been rolling out of her eyes as she laid on her back. and there i was. stunned, sobbing, terrified, sick, heartbroken, numb and in excruciating pain at the same time. it hurt to breathe. it hurt to walk. it hurt to sit. it hurt to be. why. why. why?

they took her for a ct scan. took us to pediatric icu waiting room. put her in picu. put us in a conference room with the doctors. no large mass. next: eeg. tomorrow: mri. bloodwork. spinal tap. all to figure out what it wasn't. and everything came back normal. there were no answers.

she was in the picu for three nights. we kept vigil at her side constantly. day and night. night and day. we just sang her songs and brushed her hair and held her hands. they took out the breathing tube after two nights, mostly because she was pissed that it was in, and they couldn't keep her sedated enough to keep her hands from pulling it out. that's my girl. the doctors were pleased with her determination, and happy that there was no damage to her brain for having had a seizure for so long. but she was scared when she woke up. she didn't understand why she was there. and she cried and cried and cried. eventually, she was moved to a "regular" room for two nights. and then they let us go home.

when we went for a follow-up neurologist visit a week later, the eeg showed no signs of seizure activity. her doctor said that he couldn't give us definitive answers. that she could have another seizure. "most likely, this is a part of how her brain is developing," he said. he told us what to do if it happened and gave us a prescription for diastat.

and so we waited. she slept with us for a couple of months afterwards. and we returned to our routines. and we grew comfortable being in our lives again. but i have always known that it may happen again. it's been there. lurking. waiting for us to have our guards down.

and so it did. sunday night. again. but not as bad and the medicine worked. she was at my parents' house for the night. i was on the phone with matt, who was in north carolina, when my mom called at 10.02. "mary, don't freak out, but ella's having a seizure." right. like i'm not gonna freak out. i woke up her brother and put him in the car. "what's wrong, mommy? is ella okay?" how did he know? i don't recall telling him that there was anything wrong with her. "i love her so so much, mommy," he said. "me, too, baby." we rushed to my parents', and she was coming out of it and she was dazed from the medicine. but she was okay. what a sense of relief. and we didn't have to go to the hospital. we just stayed home and went to the neurologist the next day. he told us that she seemed okay. we didn't need to put her on seizure medication. we don't need an eeg or an mri right now.

good. but, now we just wait and see. wait to see if it happens again. wait and see. wait and see. so until then, she'll just sleep with us.