Terror

I'm sitting here so nervous I didn't know what to do with myself; so here I am. Blogging. What a useful occupation.

I'm waiting for a phone call back from the pediatrician regarding Chub-chub and some bizarre behavior I've observed over the last couple of weeks. It is likely nothing; but until I know whether or not it is something I need to try and not wig-out.

Go back in time with me, to an uneventful morning in January, 2006. I had had a great start to my day. Peanut was still, blessedly, asleep (at 6:45am) and I had just gone into Chubber's room to get him and nurse him for the first time that day. Nursing my little love first thing in the morning was always one of my favorite times of the day (especially once he started sleeping through the night!). I had just gotten us settled into the glider rocker and and was gently rocking my boy as I was going to settle him on my breast. Chub-chub had always been a voracious eater, especially first-thing in the morning. This morning was to be quite different.

I looked down at my sweet boy, puzzled that he wasn't latching on immediately, as was his usual custom, and to my horror I saw my tiny, six-month-old's eyes roll back into his head and his fragile little body went completely limp.

It was the longest 10 seconds in my entire life.

I was nearly in hysteria because I could not, for the life of me, figure out what was wrong with my baby. He was breathing just fine; his pulse was strong; he was completely limp and unresponsive. After about an hour of utter lethargy from my baby and frantic phone calls to the doctor and a pediatric visit it was concluded that Chub-chub had had a seizure. I, being the mommy, followed up with a trip to a larger city for a full diagnostic/EEG to make sure my boy was OK. The medical professionals confirmed he likely had a seizure, would probably never have another one (80% of all people who have one seizure NEVER have another one), and we were to watch him and not let him get a fever beyond 100 degrees.

Fast forward to today.

Chubbers has been doing some weird stuff. He'll be playing and carrying on like normal, then suddenly he'll get stiff in the arms, legs, and neck, then clench his fists bringing them up toward his face and shake all over for 2-3 seconds. That's it. Nothing before the shaking, nothing after. He just goes along like nothing happened.

I've thought it was King Chub just being weird and having a funky 2-year-old thing that kids sometimes do (like Peanut used to bang her head on the floor and tantrum; now she doesn't). But the frequency of these events is increasing.

I first noticed it at our Family Weekend in Seattle (June 9, to be exact) and it happened when he was mad, so I, naturally, assumed it was a part of a temper tantrum. These incidents of shaking/stiffness have been happening as many 2-3 times a day or not at all --that I've noticed, that is. I hadn't really been that worried until today when I started to get anxious because of the increased frequency.

I called my friend M. who has 2 children, both with seizure disorder, to ask her opinion. She said, not trying to alarm me, that they sounded like Petite Mal seizures. Nothing happens before, the attack lasts seconds, and there's no 'down time' (with Grand Mal seizures the after-effects of a seizure can be exhaustion/sleeping/lethargy for many hours --a recovery period). She suggested I contact my doctor if I was concerned enough to call and ask her about it.

Very sound advice.

So, that is what I have done. I've phoned the pediatrician, talked with the triage nurse, and now I'm waiting for the return call of what to do.

I'm so worried and scared. Truly, I'm terrified. When he had the first seizure it was so horrible and I was completely helpless to do anything for him. And, here I am again: helpless. Chances are it is just nothing a weird kid-response. But if it isn't--

I just have to be patient; hurry up and wait. Perhaps the most difficult of all parenting skills to acquire and ultimately master would have to be patience and learning how to wait.

I hope it is nothing. I hope I'm over-reacting.