I saw it pop open and powder fall everywhere… a small arc of white flakes. So tiny, yet so significant. I tried to scoop it into my palm so as to collect as much as I could for my mouth but it was futile. Attempting to open the bottle again proved even worse and I made my way back to my bedroom from the kitchen feeling my insides rattle...
Yep, I know. I know he is. He always is. My sanity, my “life coach” on days I can’t see straight for being so depressed, my normalcy, my savior along this journey... And so this post is a letter to him. To all the unsung heroes and caretakers that bear the brunt of a disorder/disease they “acquired” by association and through……….… love.
They say a baby will shake up your life and my little man did just that- in more ways than one :) I always knew the possibility that even before he got here, there would be tests as to how strong the two of us would be together. Well, we made it, but not without a few bumps and bruises and nights of making deals with God to keep my baby safe no matter what my body threw at me.
I guess I learned, we often "expect the unexpected" to happen to us or go through life just dealing with what’s thrown at us. That morning I thought, maybe it’s time my Epilepsy should expect the same.