More seizures. Of course. Why not.
I spend every night with two different monitors turned up full blast, waking every hour, every time she clears her throat, and still, the seizure she had this morning would not have woken me from even the lightest sleep.
You know what they say about atheists in foxholes, so although I am certainly not convinced of anything, I found myself standing in the kitchen today telling God that I was really fucking pissed off at Him and I wanted nothing to do with Him. He's an asshole and I'm done with Him. And then I did the next thing I always do in that situation, which was to beg my grandma to help Grace, because I don't believe in Him and if I do, I hate Him anyway, but I always believe in her. But if she could help me, she obviously would have ("OH, you DON'T want her to have seizures? Gah, sorry...aw, come on, don't be MAD...")
This is all very melodramatic and YES I KNOW that there are far sicker kids in the world and families in far worse situations- I see it every single time I go to work, okay? And I know there are many families handling far more with a lot more grace than I am handling this, but none of THAT crap stops Grace from having seizures, none of that changes the fact that she might not even be able to go to preschool in the fall, and none of that changes the stomach-clenching, icy fear that grips me every single time I walk down the hall to check on her in bed at night. So I'm just going to spend naptime today wallowing in vitriol and melodrama. And obsessively checking on Grace.