Let me explain

Before I had a baby my definition of pain was smashing my hand in a door or getting a shot. March 16, 2005 that definition was drastically altered. I became aware of a whole new kind of pain.

Last Saturday, February 16, 2013, my definiton of fear was altered, I experienced a whole new kind of fear.

Let me explain....

Hazel and I had stopped by the Library on our way out of town to go to Costco in Tigard, a 30 minute drive from Newberg. She was reading the newly checked out library books, and about 20 minutes down the road started saying her stomach hurt, which I should have known would happen because she is prone to car sickness. I told her to stop reading and just put her head back and I rolled her window down a smidge. 5 minutes later she said she was going to throw up, but I was about to go on a bridge with no shoulder to pull on to so  I was really encouraging her not to throw up, "just relax honey" "look outside" "lay your head down". I kept looking back to make sure she was ok. The first time I looked back I saw her crying pretty hard, a "pre-vomit" cry, with her sweatshirt up by her face. The second time I looked back about 5 seconds later, her arms are stiff, up by her face, her eyes were zoning out, and she was not crying anymore but falling over slowly in her seat. I started yelling "Hazel! Wake up" but she did not respond so I pulled over on that busy bridge with no shoulder, jumped out of the car run around to her side of the car and opened the door. She was unconscience and  pale so I grabbed her out of the car and started screaming at the top of my lungs "Someone help me!" and tried waving my arms, but it's hard with a limp 45 pounds in your arms. I can only remember thinking "this can't be happening, this can't be happening!".  Thankfully a man pulled up behind me, so I lay Hazel on the ground and ran to my car to get my phone to call 911. She was still unconscience, and I could not dial my phone my hands were shaking so hard. I just knelt beside her and let the people that are were gathering take control, they were the people God put in place to think for me, because I was having a hard time getting out of my fear.  The woman with the phone that was able to dial 911, the woman who comes up and said "I'm a nurse" and told me several times "you did the right thing mom", the first man who stopped who was sitting at Hazels head checking to see if she is breathing, the nice young lady who put her coat over Hazel. It was right after someone asked "is she breathing" and they checked her pulse she woke up.  I explained what happened to the 911 operator, who patiently advised me to calm down because I am going to have to talk to the EMT's when they arrive. I explained what happened to the EMT's who advised me that it would be good for me to calm down for my daughter, who was now awake laying on the ground with 10 strangers and a crying mommy hovering over her. They wanted to take her to the hospital by ambulance, but I just wanted to take her home. When she was up and getting her color back, and when they saw that all her vitals were normal they let me take her in my car to the hospital in Newberg. I did take her to the ER at Newberg, the wait to check in was an hour and the wait for them to take her back to a room was going to be at least another hour. We were there for an hour and a half and when we decided to leave she was pink cheeked, playing, and fed.

The feeling of helplessness I felt has not totally disappeared, I keep replaying the moment she fell over in the back seat. This past week my fearful mother brain has gone to a lot of places, scary places where your babies pass out in the back seat and don't come back, and I have to shake myself out of it and go hug one of the girls. The quote "Making the decision to have a child -  is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body" has struck a large chord with me this week. To expose the most vital part of your body and want to protect it so much and then watch as it hurts and becomes vulnerable and weak, helpless is the only way to describe it. I am so thankful to God for holding Hazel, as I know He was, and for putting in place the people who helped in the scariest moment of my life to date. 

We followed up with her doctor on Tuesday, blood work was normal. The only thing left is an EEG, which is a brainwave scan, her doctor just wants to make sure she doesn't have seizure activity.  I would appreciate prayers for this EEG and for my overactive replay mode in my brain.


We found these on her when she was getting to take a shower last Saturday night. They are what the EMT's put on her to check her heart rate.