A Quick + Scary Moment Reminding Us To Cherish Every Day
You know, you just never know how your days will play out. You wake up, go through the motions and hope for the best or at the very least an ordinary day. The uncertainty of it all sometimes is painful and yet fuels me to make the most of each day. I know how fast things can change for the worse. I also know how fast pure joy can wash over me. Ironically, we nearly need the bad to fully be grateful for the good. I know pure joy because I’ve met pure hell once.
Last week we were having a normal day that quickly turned terrifying and I found myself once again pleading with God to just make everything be OK. Playing on the floor in Mila’s room, Maya happily babbling and tearing through the stuffed animal basket. Myself, I was eyeballing toys that could be donated and playing with Maya. My Starbucks coffee cup rapidly getting cold as it does, everyone sort of going through the motions of what was looking like a pretty mundane day. Until it all came to a stop. I’ve replayed what happens next in my mind a thousand+ times. I’ve also explained it step by step to paramedics, the emergency room doctor, the on-call pediatrician, and a pediatric neurologist. I’ll repeat here it one more time, in efforts of clearing my mind. In hopes of removing the replay from my head and it can replay here for anyone who needs it. Because if I am being honest, it feels good when I learn about people who’ve been through scary things like I have. It makes me feel less alone. It makes me feel less panicked. It makes me feel understood. If this helps you feel seen in someway, then good. Hugs to you.
While we were playing Maya simply stopped. She looked at me and started to cry. Her body lost all its color and she sort of fell into my lap and didn’t move. She went limp. Around her mouth started to turn blue and I called for my husband. I gave Maya to him and she fell into his body. Her eyes were tracking us, but her mouth was turning blue and her body quickly turned pale. We put her in the car to take her to the emergency room and she looked so not normal. It was all happening so fast I called 911 in sheer panic. A quick call to 911 and I broke. It triggered every memory of calling 911 seven years ago. My mind was reeling, my body trembling, my tone of voice heightened with fear. We were rushed to the hospital, Maya in my lap in the back of an ambulance. Paramedics hooking Maya up to monitors with wires and asking me endless questions.
I vividly remember the paramedic to my right being so kind. I don’t know his name, I don’t know anything about him but I will remember him and his voice and his kindness for the rest of my life. He got me and my daughter to the hospital, like I just focused on his voice the entire way. It was as if I could hear his fight for Maya and I in his voice. I don’t know if that makes sense but, my heart loves him for his unconditional support. I wish I could give that paramedic a giant hug.
As we were about to pull up to the hospital Maya made her first sound in 12ish minutes and started pulling at all the wires. It was like she had woken up even though she was awake the whole time. The air in the ambulance lightened up a bit. We were rolled into a hospital room and the ER nurse and doctor got to work with a full work up because no one really knew what was going on. Blood work. Chest x-ray. A sticky bag to catch Maya’s urine. An EKG. All the while Maya was basically back to normal leaving everyone around her confused. Albeit happy, relieved for a moment, but confused. Maya quickly became everyone’s favorite patient and while I was relieved … I was also questioning if I did the right thing. Did I over panic? Not possible, ask any parent what they would do if their baby’s face started turning blue and their body went limp. Anyways.
The word Maya’s ER team started tossing around was seizure. Seizure? I’ve seen someone at the OC Fair collapse due to a seizer once. Was that what Maya had? So many damn questions. Also, did you know there are a handful of different types of seizures? I didn’t. I can say the word now, but when it was getting said by everyone that day it made my skin crawl and hot tears burned down my face. We were just playing with stuffed animals. I promise I won’t donate any of them now. How could we just be normal one second and not normal the other? No answer except “Things happen Jacqui. You did the right thing.” they all said.
The good thing is, after talking with her Maya’s neurologist, we didn’t have to be admitted. We were sent home with an appointment to see the neurologist the next day. In the end, Maya’s neuro is confident that what happened was something called Breath Holding. Ya, I didn’t know what that was either. Apparently it is common in babies and toddlers. Not normal, but common. It can be a one time thing or happen a few more times. It should be something she will grow out of. And it isn’t something Maya can control either. Tricky. In three weeks Maya goes in for an EEG to fully rule out seizure and until then we go back to life as usual.
Here’s the thing. In the end, everyone including Maya, are fine. Shaken with fear but together we are fine and stronger than ever. We never know how the days will turn out. May we forever NEVER take anything for granted and find the joy in everyday because nothing is guaranteed.
How is one supposed to come down from that? Our closet family members have resumed life as normal. Meanwhile I fully called off everything and never left my girls sides for three days straight. My body ripping apart on the inside in agony while I put on a happy face and went back to playing Barbies and having ballet dance offs. You see, I’ve been through the whole 911 bit before and it ended in sheer hell. While I’ll never forget that, I do lock it up deep inside. But after last week with Maya all those memories and feelings were unlocked, unleashed within me and gnawed right through me leaving me raw. Right now I feel sick with sadness, even though I’m looking at Maya and Mila on their room monitors while they sleep soundly. I’m forever broken it feels like.
It will take a little bit longer for me to breath a bit easier. It will take me a minute. And because I am gratefully cursed with searching for the good in everything, I’ll keep pushing forward. My heart mends with every smile my girls show me. I can feel my tension ease as I stroke Maya’s chubby arm and brush Mila’s red locks after bath time. Life keeps moving forward even after we go through something shocking. I’m thankful for that constant though. Life has less to do with our experiences but rather more to do with how we react to our experiences. In this case, I’ll share what happened. I’ll continue to find the joy in every day. I’ll show my girls that even when life gets super scary, we must fight to find the good.
My coffee maker is still broken. I don’t know if you know that but my coffee maker broke a couple weeks ago and I haven’t replaced it yet. This morning I took Mila with me to Starbucks and an ambulance rushed by our car. Mila says “Mom are they going to help someone like they helped us? I hope everyone is OK.” I know some of you might be curious about what Mila was doing during everything. Our beautiful neighbor rushed over and stayed with Mila. Mila told me she wasn’t scared because she knew Maya was OK. She happily showed our neighbor her school area and room. Then my husband took Mila to her grandparents house on his way to meet me and Maya at the hospital. That night when we came home the girls played with each other and you would have thought they hadn’t seen each other in months. It was oddly like nothing even happened.
Anyways, I love you all for being here with me and my family. I share it all in this space huh? The yummy recipes, the exceptionally magical Disney days and the gut wrenching dark days too. ‘Cuz that’s life isn’t it? Happy, sad, scared, joyous moments beautifully tangled together. Love you all, thank you for listening and thank you all for the well wishes.
