As a parent, I often oscillate between feeling like I’m doing a great job and doubting my abilities completely. There are days when I lose my cool over minor issues or resort to serving my kids the same dinner for three nights in a row. However, most of the time, I find myself in a gray area, constantly questioning if I could be a better parent, even while acknowledging that others may be facing tougher challenges. I spend countless hours searching for parenting tips online, reminding myself that my children are happy, well-fed, and tucked in safely at night.
Yet, life has a way of jolting us into reality with moments that stay etched in our minds forever. These instances remind us of our love and protective instincts as parents—the time your child almost ran into traffic or when they nearly choked. In those harrowing moments, all of your maternal instincts surge forth, and you’re flooded with a profound sense of gratitude for your little ones.
This was my most powerful reminder of all.
One afternoon, my twins, Max and Emma, were seated in their high chairs while I prepared for another round of “who’s not eating their lunch today.” I was a mess—hair unkempt, clothes disheveled, and my mind racing with chores waiting to be tackled after lunch. I placed bowls of food in front of them, encouraging them to dig in while I sifted through a pile of bills. Then I turned my attention to Emma, who was happily chatting away instead of eating. But when I glanced at Max, he was still, his head drooping slightly.
“Max, are you okay?”
Silence. His little face turned pale, and suddenly, his eyes rolled back in his head.
“OH MY GOD!” I screamed, my heart racing. I yelled for my babysitter to stay with Emma and rushed to unbuckle Max.
“Call 9-1-1! My son isn’t breathing!” I pleaded, scrambling for my keys.
“Is he conscious?” the operator asked. I glanced at Max. “He’s blue! Please, I need help!”
Holding my limp child felt like a nightmare. I had to stay composed, keep my wits about me, and get him to the car if the ambulance didn’t arrive in time. I dashed to the garage, hearing sirens in the distance as I cradled Max, feeling the cold sweat on my brow. As I opened the car door, I felt a mix of disbelief and desperation. And then, suddenly, his eyes fluttered open. He gasped for air.
In an instant, my world came rushing back. I stumbled to the driveway, realizing I was barefoot, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The EMTs arrived and quickly took Max from my arms. “Hey little buddy, you gave us quite the scare!” they joked as they gently assessed him.
I fell to my knees, overwhelmed with relief. My son was safe. I sobbed, allowing myself a moment to process the terror I had just experienced. Max had suffered a febrile seizure—a common occurrence among young children, something I had never even heard of before becoming a parent. In the back of the ambulance, as my son lay smiling and confused on the stretcher, I learned more about it from the EMTs, who reassured me that he was stable.
After the incident, I reached out to my husband, relieved to tell him, “Everything is okay now.” He was in a meeting, completely unaware of the chaos that had unfolded.
As he rushed to the hospital, I didn’t need him by my side. I just wanted to hold Max, to feel his warmth and know he was okay. I reflected on my ability to handle the situation without falling apart—calling for help, ensuring Emma was safe, and staying focused. While I now understood that Max wasn’t in grave danger, the fear of that day would forever be etched in my memory.
Later, I turned to social media to share my experience. I rarely post personal stories but felt a deep need for comfort. The response was overwhelming. Mothers I hadn’t spoken to in years, as well as strangers, shared their similar experiences, recounting the same fear and relief. It was a powerful reminder that we are not alone in our struggles and that we uncover strengths we never knew we possessed when faced with adversity.
Despite knowing there’s a chance of recurrence, I remained on high alert every time Max complained of feeling unwell. I would check his temperature and watch for any signs of distress, often prompting him to ask, “Mommy, why are you staring at me?” The answer was simple: “Because I love you, sweetheart.”
Fortunately, such life-altering moments are rare. They shock us into realizing the depth of our love for our children and don’t require dramatic reminders to know we’d go to great lengths to protect them. Even during those frustrating days filled with meltdowns, messy dinners, or unfinished homework, we need to remember that those little things pale in comparison to the fierce love we have for our kids.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to prepare another round of mac and cheese and nuggets for dinner.
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Summary:
This heartfelt blog post shares the harrowing experience of a mother, Lisa, during her son Max’s medical emergency. Through a terrifying seizure, she discovers the profound love and resilience within herself as she navigates the chaos. The narrative highlights the emotional journey of parenthood, the connection among mothers, and the strength that emerges from moments of fear.