Friday 12 October 2012
On your 18 month birthday we went out. Our ride, a yellow truck with colorful lights on top, came to pick us up right at our doorstep. This activity came as a surprise...the reason why I found myself outside, in gray sweatpants, without underwear!
Our drivers, two gentlemen, comfortably installed you in your car seat (attached to a stretcher) and drove across town...to one of Montreal's finest children hospital where we bypassed pretty much every little patients at the ER.
Alice, my love, next time that you get frightened (crazy loud fire drill in our building) could you please keep breathing normally. The sight of your unconsciousness body on the bedroom floor, your pale skin, your blue lips, your little mouth opened, your eyes rolled upwards...I was sure that I had lost you forever.
As I was talking to 911, your body slowly regained postural tone and you looked at me. At the same time, your dad came back home as he was walking the dog when all that drama happened.
After many tests including an electrocardiogram (so many wires on such a little creature), the doctors told us that you had a fucking-scary-for-the-parents-yet-not-dangerous-for-the-child condition called a breath-holding spell (involuntary pause in breathing).
Without a cry, you suddenly had a syncope and in less than two hours you were back on your feet acting all adorable for the hospital staff. Your parents, on the other hand, were drained and still processing what just happened.
Next on my mom agenda, teaching you the word breath.
Love you so much.