If you are looking for a witty post today, click away.
I am not looking for sympathy or reassuring words. I have a lump in my throat and a sharp pain in my chest and have had trouble breathing all day long. I haven't googled my symptoms but am pretty sure I am experiencing a full blown heart attack.
We had a beautiful Memorial Day weekend. The weather was perfect and the husband was home for 4 days. Together, as a family, we had a picnic in the park with good friends, we entered the kiddos in a bubble blowing contest at the fair (see post below), we attended two amazing parades, Jay rode the scariest roller coaster ever and loved it, we rode bikes in the park, and hosted the extended in-law family for a terrific BBQ. It was all super vanilla frosting great.
Tuesday marked the first day of summer vacation. It was all of 50 degrees outside and I had mounds of laundry to fold, an empty fridge, and three active children bouncing off the walls.
I woke up in a funk and everything went downhill from there.
It was my fault. I created my own bad day. If Mama 'aint happy, no one is. I did not shower. I threw on unattractive mis-matched sweats. I skipped breakfast. I moped around all morning and my phone did not ring once. No pre-school. No play dates. No field trips. No plans.
Three active kids bouncing off the walls.
I peeled them off the walls one by one and created a "store" from our pantry. We filled the kitchen with pantry items and created price tags. One box of Mac n Cheese for $43.00 and a box of Cheerios for $32.00. I emptied the jar of pennies and we played the morning away. After lunch, I put Fifi to bed for her nap and continued playing with the kiddos.
Right about the time when she woke up from her nap, my moping was more pronounced and I became stir crazy. I slowly started to gather the clan up for a trip to the grocery store.
Fifi managed to climb on top of a chair and fell backwards hitting the back of her head against the wall. I scooped her up and held her tight, as I stroked her hair away from her tears.
And. Then. I felt her. I felt her stiffing up in my arms.
Her arms went limp. Her eyes remained open. I stared into her distant eyes. I have never seen anyone so distant, she was not there with me in my arms. Her dilated pupils frantically darted from side to side.
"Fifi!!!!!" I shouted. "OH MY GOD, FIFI!!!!" I gently blew into her face knowing very well that is how I get Lola out of her holding breath syndrome. "FIFI!!!!!!" I continued to yell watching her pupils dart. Her entire body became rigid and jerked, as the lack of oxygen to the brain triggered her seizure. At least Lola closes her eyes during her seizures, Fifi's eyes were frightening.
Lola came into the room obnoxiously singing, "SHUT UP! LOLA!!!!!" I grabbed the phone with one hand and instructed Lola to dial 911. I have never once told anyone, not even my own parents in my teenage years, to shut up. "Fifi, come on sweet girl." By now, she was still stiff as a board, lifeless, so very pale, and her pupils continued darting. I held back from vomiting but allowed my tears to flow. I shook her and blew one last time onto her face. My knees were weak and I sat down with my lifeless child.
After two minutes she sat up in my arms and looked around with much confusion. She continued to cry and I told Lola to put the phone down. Crying is good. Eyes silently darting and stiff body is bad. I held my sweet baby girl close to my heart and just lost it. I freaking lost it.
I was trembling. I am crying now gosh darn it.
After talking to our doctor she advised us to contact our pediatric neurologist. Which we have seen before. A number of times. Lola's holding breath syndrome (Official explanation: Pallid infantile syncope) is so severe she has monthly seizures. And Fifi had benign neonatal sleep myoclonus as an infant and was hospitalized for a week.
I interrupted my husband at work with a phone call to let him know what had happened and how I believed that I was in the middle of experiencing my first blown heart attack at 30 years old. He calmed me down. Instead of calling my mother or any friends, I continued to mope around all day staying far away from googling any of Fifi's symptoms. I sat the kids in front of the TV with ice cream sandwiches, both a rare treat, and stepped outside into the cold for some fresh air. I listened to the birds and let the coldness of the air wake me.
I have two young daughters with holding breath syndrome. It is official. It really isn't a BIG deal and not at all life threatening. I am grateful to have three beautiful, healthy, funny, loving, active, smart, witty, confident, and happy children. I am very grateful for our health and very aware of many more terrible things that could happen to my children. Perhaps I am a big cry baby, for it is not a BIG deal.
Holding breath syndrome really super duper sucks. It just does.
Holding a lifeless seizing child sucks in my books. I have, to date, held a lifeless seizing Lola on 7 separate occasions. And now it begins with Fifi.
The lump in my throat is growing bigger by the minute and the sharp pain in my chest is growing stronger. I know that I am given only as much as I can handle in life. But I do not know how many more times I can handle holding a lifeless child.
Turns out that I did not experience a heart attack today, just my first ever full blown cry baby panic attack. I now understand why mothers age faster than fathers.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
If you are looking for a witty post today, click away.
Posted by OHmommy at 10:42 PM