As her eyes roll back and her skin drains of colour my husband and I look at each other. Something’s wrong. “She’s not right, what’s happening to her, is she having a stroke,” I speak quietly, panic in my voice.
“I don’t know,” he replies, fear in his eyes.
Our little girl, Miss 4, is vacant. Her body limp, her eyes staring. She is in a vegetative state. My baby isn’t there. I can’t see her spark. I struggle to breathe. I can see my husband’s hands shaking. I start to cry – silently.
Grabbing my mobile, I dial the numbers no parent wants to call – 000. I’ve never called these numbers before. Surrealism envelopes our house. While my husband cradles our daughter, she is motionless. Her eyes staring. Instructions are given, and I hurriedly relay them to an ashen-faced Twiggy: “Put her on a couch. Take off her pajamas. Lay her on her side.”
She starts gagging, vomit spewing from her mouth. It is red. “It’s red, it’s red,” I scream into the phone.
“What has she eaten today?” replies a calm voice, snapping me out of my hysteria.
It’s not blood. It isn’t blood. This is not happening. “Please tell me they are coming,” I plead with the operator. “Please tell me they will be here soon.” Ten minutes feels like a lifetime.
“They’re coming, lights and sirens.”
Lights and sirens. For my baby. An ambulance with lights and sirens.
I will them to come quicker. I will them to be in our house fixing our child. I will them to be telling us all is ok.
And then I realise our middle child, Miss 3, is awake, standing quietly beside me. Luckily, her youngest sister is sleeping through the moment. I give her sweet biscuits. I hold her hand. I try not to cry, I can’t. I take her with me to the front door to keep watch for the ambulance, away from her sister. She’s already seen too much fear.
“Come and see an ambulance,” I tell her.
“I have three children,” I tell the operator.
He tells me I will soon see the ambulance coming down the street. He is right. I thank him. He tells me everything will be ok. I breathe.
Within minutes she’s leaving me in an ambulance. Her little sister cries as they drive away. I do too.
She spends the night being obvserved. She spends the night being woken and held down by her Mum, Dad, nurses and Doctors while blood is taken from her tiny body, heart monitors hooked to her chest, oxygen given. Our little baby. She has already seen too much of hospitals, she doesn’t deserve to be there. No-one ever does.
Miss 4 is now in her hospital bed with her Dad by her side. She is happy and unaware of how scared we were. Are. We wait for tests. Everyone tells us a different theory. We hope it’s is a one-off. We hope words like epilepsy are not bandied about again. We hope she comes home and this becomes but a memory. She is doing craft. She is sneakily stashing craft supplies in her bag. Her spark is back. Her essence.
I don’t know how people cope with having a seriously ill child. I don’t know if I’d be strong enough. Today, I think of how blessed we are. How lucky we’ve been. I think of other’s who have not. It fills me with grief. Last night was our moment. I don’t want to have any more of them.
Thank you all for your amazing messages of support. And to my Mum, I love you xx
Reading this has sent goosebumps all over my arms. Huge hugs to you, you must’ve been so terrified xxx
Oh hun, I have absolutely no words for you. Praying good news for you and that this is soon but a distant memory. x
All of my positive vibes to you, your family and your little girl. I hope the doctors can figure out the problem and help you to fix it xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
No words. Really. Just all the love I can send to you all….
Well. I’m crying. Im so grateful to read that she has her spark back…how utterly terrifying. I’ll be praying for an easy answer.
Awful. Frightening. Distressing.
But don’t be afraid of epilepsy – should it be mentioned again.
Oh Bianca, tears were streaming down my face as i read this post. You have perfectly captured the feelings I’ve had twice in the last 6 weeks. The first time when my nearly 3 year old had a febrile convulsion and this week when my 1 year old had an “episode” where his eyes rolled down, got stuck there and he couldn’t move them and he went limp. The sickness I felt is indescribable – well, at least for a non-writer like me. Your words were beautiful and accurate.
I am so sorry that you have all been through such a scare, and I wish I could offer you more words than those you’ve already heard, but all I can say is that I truly hope you are all home together very soon, with this being a one off event and soon, a distant memory – at least for Miss 4. I doubt you’ll ever forget it.
For what it’s worth, both of my boys had numerous tests. Especially our 1 year old who this week had about 30 blood sugar prick tests, multiple full blood tests, an ultra sound on his brain and an MRI on his brain under a general anesthetic but he has come home with very good news and simply a blood sugar processesing issue that he will grow out of. We are incredibly grateful that we (knock on wood) got out of this scary episode with such a minor issue. I hope that little Miss 4 (who sounds like she’s perked up already) is back to herself completely by this afternoon.
Sending love, strength and positive thoughts your way.
One day, one test, one opinion, one specialist, one step at a time OK? OK.
Oh Bianca….I’m sobbing for you. I so wish I could wave a magic wand and make the answers appear and make the answers something super simple that makes it something that you’ll never ever have to go through again. I’m thinking of you SO very much. ANYTHING at all I can do (do you need more craft supplies???) snap your fingers and it’s done, I promise. Hugs, love and positive vibes to all 5 of you. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Oh no. What a terrible, terrible thing. I hope your daughter will be okay. It is every parents’ dread when something like this happens. Such a shock for your family. Take care. xx
Oh Bianca, I’m so sorry you went through that, nobody should ever have to. I’m glad she is feeling better and I hope they give you some answers really really soon.
Oh bloody HELL, Bianca, how did I miss all of this??? Eyes full of tears and a poundy heart for you all. I am so pleased to see that gorgeous photo at the bottom of your cheeky girl. I completely get the staring at your child and knowing the spark is not there thing. Whew what a post. Much love to you. xxxxxxxx
Oh love. I am sitting in a cafe crying into my phone. How scary and awful for all of you. Xx
Oh no! That is terrible. I hope it is a one off thing too. And that you get some answers soon.
Wow – the poor little darling. I really hope that the tests come back clear and it’s a one-off. I have tears just reading your article. How scary it must have been….every parents worst nightmare.
What a terrifying thing for your family to go through. I, too, hope there are no more moments for you all xx
Oh Bianca… I just sobbed a little with this! what is it with my bloggy friends making me cry today! 😛 Your writing is so powerful! Sending huge hugs and my most heartfelt best wishes to you and your family! Answers soon. Calmnes now. Cyberlove from your bloggy-groupies always! 😀 xoxoxo
Oh dear god, I am so glad she’s okay. This is too scary.
oh my lovely. HUGE hugs.
Oh my. I am so happy to see her sitting up there. Hugs to all of you.
Phew. So happy to read this!
Thank you x
thank you x
Sweet Jesus B, thank god she is ok. How are you holding up? Ring me if you need anything. Xxx
Oh No! I’m glad to hear she is okay now and hope there is not a repeat episode. That’s scary.
Oh my goodness, I felt every one of those moments with you. Glad your girl’s on the mend, hopefully they’ll uncover to cause really soon x
Wow, I am so relieved for you, such a gorgeous picture at the end X
Oh gosh. This grabbed my gut and twisted it. I am glad she is alive, that her spark is back, and I hope you get some answers soon. Surely answers are better than not knowing, living in the fear that it may happen again and you don’t know why it is.
I’m so so so glad she is okay.
I hope that it is a one off.
Phew. I love the picture at the end.
oh hell poor you. What an awful experience for everyone. Glad she’s ok now tho. My daughter is a special needs kid and I spend every day waiting for something awful to happen to her. She once took a very bad epileptic seizure whilst under anesthetic for hospital tests. Its something I never want to see again. Thankfully other seizures she has had have been mild compared to that one. The worst experience for any parent is to see their child ill or suffering. Sending hugs. x
Oh my goodness. What an experience. I hope she is home now and you have some answers. xx
I missed all this, I’m so sorry. Much love to you xo