This is not her most subtle seizure.
This tiny rhythmic hand twitch is barely noticeable to the untrained eye, yet it is NOT her most subtle seizure.
No wonder I had not even a shred of doubt.
No concern that anything was amiss.
Not even a clue.
Her first 3 months were bliss. She was a dream.
Nurse. Snuggle. Poop. Sleep. Repeat.
Until one day, while being prepped for a rule-out EEG, I watched as a medical technician turned an almost translucent shade of white before all of the electrodes were even attached to her tiny little head.
I knew the moment she opened her mouth that her words would change my life.
My stomach dropped to the floor, as she frantically left the room to āphone the doctor.ā
May was not even fully hooked up, and it was evident that the results of the test would be catastrophic.
A knife pierced my heart. Making a deep cut that has since stopped bleeding, but will never fully heal.
The āwhat ifāsā burned through my wakeful moments, all hours of the day and night.
What if it was my fault?
What if I missed the signs?
What if I had noticed earlier?
And the existential question I couldnāt seem to shakeā¦
What if she had a different mother?
One who would have noticed sooner, allowing all of the aforementioned questions to dissolve in light of a more equipped mother?
But she didnāt have a different mother.
Maybe I am the best mother for her?
Maternal instinct only stretches so far.
For the rest I have to rely on the grace and goodness and provision of the One orchestrating all of it.
I have to release myself of the expectation that the lives of my children are solely my responsibility.
When I claim it all for myself I donāt leave room for the One who created them to have His good and pleasing and perfect way with them.
Because even when it looks drastically different than what I would have wanted, His way is still good and pleasing and perfect.
-MM
#mindfulmotherhood #motherhood #motherhoodjourney #momlife #anxiety #d
