That is my question and I probably won’t ever have an answer.

Every other Thursday I traipse the chilluns’ to my mom’s house so I can clean it (she pays me, ain’t it lovely?).  The girls get to watch the junk wonders of cable t.v. while Sweet Pea follows me from room to room checking things out and talking to me.  He’s only 1 so the depth of the conversation with him was mighty shallow.

Yesterday was no different, we did all that we usually do, even complete with him following me from room to room jibber-jabbering the whole way (and who says girls talk more than boys hasn’t met my son).

Just before lunch I asked the girls to watch him in the basement while I vacuumed as it’s much easier to vacuum without a clinging, squawking baby on the back of my pant legs (he hates the sound of the vacuum).  As soon as I turned on the vacuum I glanced down the basement stairs to see him at the bottom, sitting himself back up and crying.  I knew he had fallen down some stairs, but what I didn’t know exactly was the number of them he had fallen down.

He cried, he snuggled, he smiled and scootched away, just as normal.  As a mom I know to watch when they fall to see if something is different.  Extra clingy, no cries, dazed looks, wandering eyes, you know, the scary stuff that makes you panic.

After he played for a bit more, I grabbed him, gave him another snuggle, kissed his cheeks over and over until he squealed with annoyance and put him in his highchair to eat lunch.  Little did I know I would not look at that highchair the same again.

I set cheese down on his tray, and he looked down at it and started to scream in defiance (he’s got a smidgen of a temper).  I broke a piece off and put it in his mouth and that’s when he got seriously pissed at me.  When he does these temper tantrums, I actually find it quite funny so I usually start laughing, as do both of the girls.  He gets so mad that he stops breathing for a bit.  He turned red and then his face went blue, and that’s kind of when I had an indication that he was taking it too far (not on purpose, but he couldn’t calm down enough to breath).  He even tipped over because he was starting to lose consciousness.

I sat him up again immediately and that’s when he went completely rigid and the seizure kicked in.  It was probably the scariest moment I have lived through thus far.  His face went grey, and his breathing was awful to listen to.  It was laboured and gasping, and sounded as if he had fluid in the way.  He was still sitting up at this point but I had to hold his head for it to stay upright.

I had only said, “Oh my God he’s having a seizure, where’s the phone?” to my dds and phoned 911.  My poor girls.  They were so scared and I couldn’t do anything to help them out.  They were so brave.

The 911 operator came on and said the usual, “what’s your emergency?”, and that is when my resolve collapsed.  I could no longer speak and was becoming hysterical myself.  Tears were coursing down my cheeks and out of the corner of my eye I saw my dds cling to each other in comfort.  She had to repeat herself before I could say that he was seizing.  She asked if he was breathing, and I said he was but that it was seriously laboured.  Thankfully she stayed on the phone with me until they came.

I was so proud of my girls as they followed my directions without asking for any reasons or arguing.  When I asked Bing to unlock the door for the EMTs, she did, and even waited there for a bit until they came.  When I asked Punk to turn down the Bon Jovi I had playing, she went over and figured out how to do it on her own instead of arguing with me about how to do it.

Within 4-5 minutes the fire rescue arrived first on scene and started trying to help out and access him.  Less than a minute later the EMTs walked in to take over.  I had 5 giant men in my mom’s newly cleaned house, I even had to turn off the ceiling fan for one of them or he was going to have a new haircut.

They laid him on the couch to try and get a response.  When the fire rescue first came he was still seizing but it had calmed down enough that it was only showing in his arms and breath, not his entire body like when it first occurred.

At this time there were 2 EMTs and 3 rescue truck guys, 1 of which was ‘handling’ him with 1 of the EMTs, and 2 RTGs were helping out by relaying the information they knew to the other EMT, who was on his computer, as well as grabbing the carseat from my truck (that’s how they transport infants not in need of a backboard).

By this point he had stopped seizing but was not responsive to much, even with his big eyes open.  The decision was made that he needed to get to the hospital, so I had to find someone to watch the girls while I went to the hospital.  Just as I was talking to the one EMT, my mom’s house phone rang and it was her work number on the display.  I couldn’t answer it, so I told Bing that she could.  It seems my mom’s wonderfully nosy neighbour phoned their work and told them there was a rescue truck and an ambulance outside the house and that they better phone.  It was my mom on the phone.  I asked her eventually to phone the neighbour back and ask if he’ll watch the girls.  He, of course being the awesome guy he truly is, said absolutely and was over in a minute.

Everything was happening so fast at this point that I barely had time to think.  They were attempting to put Sweet Pea in his carseat and that’s when he finally had enough of this shit and let out a big wail.  It wasn’t truly relieving for me as it was not a normal wail and his whole body went rigid again.  His hand was bent in a strange position, much like that of many cerebral palsy victims I’ve seen, and his feet were turned pigeon toed.

Instead of forcing him into the carseat in the house, they asked me to carry him out if I was ready.  The neighbour was there, I gave one last squeeze to my girls and scooped up my limp baby who was much happier in my arms, and we trotted out to the waiting ambulance.

I had assumed we would race on, lights blaring, straight to the hospital, but they had me put him in his seat after they had buckled it down to the stretcher.  It seems they hadn’t taken many vital signs in the house (that I had noticed) so they took them in the ambulance before transport, and then had me buckle him in.  I would’ve liked to have smacked the EMTs hands away when he kept attempting to help, but I didn’t.

In a moments notice we were on our way and I kept attempting in vain to contact dh on his cell phone to tell him where we were going.  My mom’s house is situated in a wide valley so the signal on cheap phones like mine is non-existent.  I had no choice but to wait until we had headed out of the valley before I could tell him that we were headed to the very hospital – brand new – that he had some of his lights in (his job).

The ride was horrible.  There is a major extension through the city and it is rumoured to have the most horrible paving (actual cement, not asphalt), and in the back of an ambulance I’d have to say I agree.  Sweet Pea was still out of it, but would alternate between screaming uncontrollably while fighting his carseat restraints to sleeping – complete with chewing.  It was horrible to hear because nothing would help and because of the roads being so bad, he couldn’t hear my voice from the noise – although I don’t know if he even could hear.  Thankfully he finally fell fully asleep about 10 minutes away from the hospital (hey, I’m Canadian, we speak in time, not distance ).  It would’ve taken us a shorter amount of time if they had used the lights and siren, but because he was stable, they were just a transport.

We arrived at the hospital just before 1:00pm and were triaged right away and set into a room immediately.  I got the boy out and sat down with him, cuddling him to soothe him.  He fell back to sleep quite easily as he was still so groggy.  Dh walked in even before the nurse did.  He then told me that he missed his turn twice trying to get into the hospital, which tells me that he would’ve beaten the ambulance there had he not missed those turns.

The hospital room itself was uneventful.  The nurses were pretty much non-existent until his vital signs were needed.  Sweet Pea threw up once, which was a concern to us, but to no one else outside of our room.  He then slept until he saw the Dr. 1½ hours later (welcome to AB health care).  The Dr. felt that the seizure was caused by the breath holding incident, but was concerned because he had fallen down those stairs.  He suggested we feed him some Popsicle, maybe a bottle and see how he acts, whether he seems normal.

So out the Dr. went and we attempted to engage him in his normal behaviour.  He wanted some of the Popsicle but could not hold it on his own (seriously abnormal), he drank his bottle fine, but his motor skills were really a concern to us.  He was so weak and couldn’t hardly sit up, was really wobbly and uncertain about even holding a water bottle, something he loves to drink by himself.  At one point we put him on the floor and he wouldn’t move at all.  This kid loves tires, he’s enthralled with them, and the room was full of them and he wouldn’t even touch them.  His car seat was sitting on the floor and he didn’t even try to climb in it like he normally does.  At one point we truly got worried.  He zoned out and his left eye started wandering off to one side.  Creeped me right out.

The Dr. agreed that if he wasn’t himself – most kids after a seizure, and without a known disorder, bounce back immediately – that a CT scan would be ordered to rule out brain bleeding. Of course the scan was ordered so we had to go through that ordeal twice while he cried and cried, hoping to get a good scan.

The dr. came back at 5 minutes to 5:00 to tell us that his professional opinion was that this incident was caused by his temper tantrum, and while the fall was a concern, there was no indication on the scan that his brain was injured, so we were let go.

We spent 4 hours in the hospital, saw the Dr. for about 15 minutes, and just before time was out on dh’s parking meter (a $12 charge btw), we left the place and will hopefully never be back.

He slept the entire 45 minute trip back to my parents where the girls were waiting for us so we could have supper.  When we walked in the door, Elijah squealed at his sisters and got chatty and wanted to go down.  He was often still cranky and whiny but we knew that he was on the mend.

This morning when he woke up, dh grabbed him out of his bed and brought him back into our bedroom so I could get up to get Sweet Pea some breakfast.  The kid looks at me, gets a big grin on his face and signs ‘banana’, meaning he’s damn hungry and he wants his breakfast NOW!

Today, he is back to normal.  Roaming the house, although temporarily barred from the 2 sets of stairs, curious about everything.

Watching him sit so proudly in his seat that was on the floor, I finally felt the relief wash over me of our ordeal.

He’s home.