There Once Was a Seizure

you, my talking girl of almost two years of age.  there doesn't seem to be a word yet that you haven't enjoyed repeating, incomplete and a bit unpolished, but out those words come anyway.  beautifully spoken with soft, experimenting sounds sometimes slurred while your pacifier sits on your tongue.  you are tough sometimes and enjoy exploring on your own.  there is so much i could write about you now and all that you are doing, but it wouldn't be complete.  i don't think i can write it all down and sort through everything about you.  you are complex.  you have become an independent person right before my eyes.  yet, you still like to cling to me and sometimes allow me to smell your oddly sour-sweet baby smell when you wake from sleep (just a moment before you push my face away).  there are times when you will sit with me and be still.  if a book can hold your attention for a few minutes, i soak in the time to wrap my arm around your little body.  and our days pass with meals and a nap.  with vying for attention, sometimes antagonizing your sister to gain it.  they pass with learned words and actions.  repeat.  slowly. quickly.

but there once was a seizure that shook us up a bit.  it broke into you and stopped your words from being.  you were not you.  a form of you taken up by an empty silhouette.  invaded.  we laid you down on the rug, faces intent, calling your name and asking for your response.  but you didn't move.  eyes open but not receiving.  inside, the prickles and pings of "something is not right" perked up and jabbed our hearts.  in slow breaths and wisps of life, there was signs of your return.  eyes moved as we asked you to locate your sister.  your dog.  daddy.  mommy.  i'm here baby.  i'm right here.  where did you go?

the doctor said it was a febrile seizure.  which can't be since we know what a febrile seizure looks like, at least the ones your sister has had.  this one looked more like the definition of an absence seizure.  either way, it wanted to be a part of our family.  so we invited in this frustrating, spooky thing of a neurological zapping mix-up.  we knew it was possible, since finding out when one sibling experiences febrile seizures, the other may experience them as well.  but this was a fleeting thought we covered up with the fleece blankets of hope.  alas, it came upon you, audrey love.  unexpected but possible.

after a very long visit to the hospital and a restless night of sleep and then a long nap the day after, you became you again.  the laughter of a silly-doodle head who knows how to cheese-it-up.  my snuggly golden-haired babe.  you gained back your bouncy run-step toddler walk and your love for taking care of your babies.  for the time being, that nasty intruder is slumbering somewhere inside of your brain.  but oh lovely little one of mine, you've returned to us.