While we were out, my baby started having a seizure. As I held his upper body, I asked some of the store associates to help me dial 911. Never having had any experience personally with seizures or thankfully not much of the 911 process, the operator calmly asked me questions about my little guys health, and history. I tried so hard not to look at his sweet face struggling to breathe and his body convulsing, and just focus on the fact that soon it would be over. We took him out of the cart and laid him on his side to open his airways, while we waited for the seizure to stop. Finally, in what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a minute or so, his seizure stopped, and he lay there. Eyes closed.
Noisily breathing, but breathing.
I tried to contact my husband over and over, he wasn't answering his phone. Finally as the ambulance pulled up, he answered, I couldn't give him clear answers, but told him to head to the hospital.
It was all surreal.
The store.
The people.
My baby.
The ambulance crew took him on the stretcher, buckled him up, and off to the ER he went. As we walked out of the store I was hugged, prayed for, and supported.
I got in the car, to follow the ambulance, and called my hubs to tell him the full story of what had happened.
As I drove, I prayed, and cried, but I had no words.
No words to ask, or plead, but I had peace.
Peace that my sweet angel was in good hands.
I met my husband and the ambulance at the ER, where we were greeted by nurses, dr's, and residents.
My little one was so confused, twitchy, and so unresponsive. It was so scary to see him act that way. To not even respond to our touch, or our voices. His body shuttered still, he had no idea where he was. His temperature was 104.1 when we arrived at the ER. The nurses and dr's explained that he most likely had what was called a febrile seizure from his temperature being so high.
He was given motrin, and Tylenol, poked prodded, and examined for any other signs of infection.
He was so scared.
I laid down on the table, pulled him close, and he slowly drifted off to sleep.
He was still twitchy, and a little dazed. We called all our family, and told them the story.
We heard of all the prayers and support that was happening all around us.
I know without a doubt that room was filled with angels, that God's healing hand was supporting us, as we patiently waited for the little guy to wake up.
When he woke, he was a little more responsive, still scared and a little shaky, but a little better than he was. Finally got the ok to come home, so off we went.
Nathan was thrilled to leave that crazy place.
He has still been tired over the weekend, but definitely feeling a little more himself.
I pray in my heart of hearts that it's never something I have to see again.
So today, my heart is so full of thanks.
For the associates at the store, the nurses, doctors, and ambulance crew.
For the unceasing prayer, love, and support from family and friends.
But mostly, for him, Nathan, whose name means "He has given".
He is such a gift.
And for my 2 older kiddos too, who make me so complete.
For the opportunity to stay home with them, to be called "mom"
(no matter how crazy it makes me sometimes).
I am so blessed.
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