When you become a mom nobody warns you about a brand new door that opens up in your brain. It’s not a cute, Chip and Joanna Gaines farmhouse door. It’s a dark, foreboding door you never walk through intentionally, but it pulls you in anyway. It’s the door of the “What-ifs.”
What if I’m not cut out for this? What if I’m not doing this right? What if they get hurt? What if their discipline, diets, car seats, schedules, and schooling are all wrong?
On Thursday night one of my what-ifs came true. My baby stopped breathing. I recognized the seizure immediately and called 911. My 20-month-old son turned blue and time stood still. “Hurry. Hurry,” I heard myself saying into the phone.
I have walked this path before. Another one of my sons also had a febrile seizure at the same age. When babies’ fevers spike too quickly their little bodies can’t handle it. Febrile seizures are terrifying, but in the end they are harmless.
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