Last night I slept for a few hours. My brain would not shut down. Snippets just kept running through my head.

“Mom, what’s wrong with Ladybug? Ladybug? LADYBUG! LADYBUG! LOOK AT ME! What’s wrong? Oh my God?!?!?!? I think shes having a seizure! Call 911!!!”

“You have reached 911. All operators are busy right now. Please stay on the line.”

“Post-ictal…..nystagmus…..right side flaccid….disconjugate gaze….unresponsive…stroke protocal just in case”

“Children’s Hosptial transport team contacted.”

“Oh God, mommy I can’t do this. I want ‘my’ Ladybug back.”

A few days ago (seems like years now) I was worried about how I would react if anything happened during JumpingBean’s impending birth. Since statistically that seems unlikely, I interpreted my fears to be about me. I thought my worst fear was that I wasn’t “Critical situation supermom” anymore.

My fears were misplaced. That fear is nothing compared to the paralyzing, panic inducing terror of seeing a small child in the throws of a petit mal seizure. Nothing compared to seeing that happen for several hours. Our Ladybug wasn’t there at all. She did not respond to us or stimuli. It was as though she had checked out. We all yelled and begged and pleaded with her, but no response.

Now, here on Monday morning, we know for certain she did not suffer another stroke. That is wonderful news. The sleepless nights have taken their toll. I cannot get the visions from my head. I didn’t want to sleep last night because of the horrifying visions and remembrances.

She will be ok. She will be on seizure medicine. She will come home today. Hopefully, soon, the dizzying multitude of drugs in her system will wear off and she will be more alert and awake. But our Ladybug is back. She is a dopey, sleepy one; but she is back.

I took my laptop to the hospital that night. I wanted to share with my online friends. I wanted to feel your support and love and prayers. Their wireless was password protected. But I knew, without a doubt, what you all would have said and I took comfort in that.

And you were all right. My ‘power’ was still there. That “me” came back when she was needed. Thank God. Thank God for everything.

I am off to hospital again. More Later.

EDIT: It was just pointed out to me that (probably due to lack of sleep) I forgot to refer to Ladybug up there by her super secret internet identity. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Those of you who read it prior to correction must erase your memories or give me your address so I may burn your eyes out.

PS EDIT: Ladybug is home. She is still very wonky, but she thinks she is normal. So she keeps trying to run around (falling down) and climb up on the couch (falling off). That is ok because she still looks at me and says “Grama? Hug!”

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