Seizure Activity

We knew it was just a matter of time, but it doesn't make it any easier. Since the EEG done last fall, the fact that Cannon was having seizures, whether we could see them physically or not, broke our hearts. Now that Cannon was sick and not sleeping, his threshold was low and the seizures presented themselves. Since then we have started an anti-seizure medication and have not seen any more seizures. He has been vomiting a lot and we are trying to decide if it is in association with the new medication or just a flu bug he's picked up.

I want to attach my journal entry that I wrote just after that experience:

April 26, 2011

It is now almost morning and I have yet to get to bed. Going to bed closer to dawn that sunset is a common occurrence for me but tonight was for a new reason- a reason I hoped would never come. I just finished using my stop watch on my iphone at 3:00 in the morning, timing my little Cannon. As I did that I was taken back. I flash to the last time I used my stop watch at 3:00 in the morning. Just the same as tonight, It was used was to time Cannon- but last time I was in my bath tub, 9 months pregnant, waiting anxiously for my precious little baby boy to be born. I was excitedly and calmly, timing my contractions. As they got closer and closer I knew the moment would be here soon. The moment I would meet this little person that we have worried so much about, prayed so hard for and already fallen in love with. I focused on each contraction, what it meant for my body and what it meant for my baby. Each tightening of my stomach was the bond of my baby and I working together toward the minute that he and I would meet. I remember specifically thinking that if he was strong enough to go through each contraction, then I could too. I know that thought helped me deliver him without the assistance of medication. Even before his birth, Cannon has been my inspiration, teaching me more about myself, and my inner strength, than I never knew I had.

Tonight, a little over a year later, with only the kitchen light on, my mom and I sit on my couch feeling helpless. We are using the phone to time what is the first noticeable sign of Cannon’s seizures. Our worst nightmare is now coming true. My poor baby only had, on average, 18 seconds between each seizure, each seizure lasting 20 seconds, for nearly 2 1/2 hours. I would say this coincidence with my phone might be considered bittersweet but mostly tonight it is just bitter. I am sorry to say but I am frustrated and sad. I want to take this from my baby. I want to suffer this for him so he can be free of his physical limitations and pain. I know angels attend him, but when I see his head jerking from side to side, out of his control, my heart begs to take this away from him. I see the frustration in his expression as he tries to get away from whatever is happening inside his head. My precious little one, I love you so. At this Easter time, I think of this scripture in Matthew, speaking of Christ, that says, “He went forward a little, and fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt.” Of course I want this cup to be taken from you, Cannon, and from me. But if not. . . I will be here for you and you will continue to inspire me. Goodnight my angel.