It was an undeniably sunny Saturday.  A perfect kind of day that we were lucky enough to enjoy at Sesame Place; the rides, fuzzy characters, the slides and the biggest, coolest splash park a kid could imagine.

We spent most of the day in the sun, something we’ve done multiple times at the lake.  We stayed hydrated on Saturday, took breaks from the heat and made sure everyone was happy.  So, who could’ve predicted that a day full of laughs would somehow end in tears in the ER.

On Saturday, that’s just what happened.  After an incredibly fun day, followed by an 1.5 ride home, our four month old, Joshua, gave us the scare of our lives.  Completely exhausted form our day at the water park, Jeff and Jack went immediately upstairs to bed, while I changed the baby downstairs.  On his changing table, eerily enough, a baby staple that I just so happened to rave and write about, Joshua’s hazel eyes turned a striking blue and blinked profusely.  His body, stiff as a board, yet somehow managed to twitch as if being shocked.  His lips turned purple, his porcelain skin was cold; these symptoms paralyzed me for fear that my baby was in some kind of pain. I screamed for Jeff.  And screamed again, until he truly heard the terror in my cry.

“The baby is having a seizure,” I yelled.

Before grabbing his phone, Jeff shook both hands rapidly, something he does when he’s nervous.  Which is never.

“I’m calling 911.  Is he ok?” He asked as I cradled our boy who shook uncontrollably.

“Don’t wake Jack. Just call Sharon.” I suggested, as we tried to figure out what the hell to do next.

In less than three minutes, two police officers and the EMT flung open our front doors and asked to see Josh.  Limp and exhausted, Josh’s seizure had ceased as I handed him over to the uniformed officers.  In just a diaper and rash guard, Josh was still cold and could barely hold up his own head.

The cops and EMT ushered me into the ambulance, not before I grabbed a few essentials: baby’s pjs, diapers and my iPad (to Google baby’s ailments, of course).  We made the 2 mile drive to St. Clare’s emergency room, which was clearly the place to be on a Saturday night.

No room at the inn, we were directed to hang out on a gurney in the hallway until they had a bed available.  And so I stood there, with my cold, crying baby…confused and totally alone.  That is, until our friend and next door neighbor walked into the ER to provide support, just like she did 3 months ago when Jeff went into anaphylactic shock.  Josh was just 5 weeks old at the time, my incision was still sore and my nerves were just as shot.

Jeff and Jack finally made their way to the ER, just in time for us to get our own room and for the dr. to visit.  After giving him the run down on what happened, he mentioned having to insert the IV in the baby.  I took that as my cue to take Jack and walk around.  As we came back, Jeff walked out of the room before we arrived.  His eyes welled up, and forehead revealed his worry:

“Baby had another seizure as the nurses tried to give him a catheter.”

And that’s when I lost it and whisked Jack off to a waiting room tucked into a corner.  I hugged my older boy and asked him to pray that our baby boy would be ok.

“It’s ok, mama. Joshy’s going to be just fine.”

I cried harder, hugged Biggie tighter, but said nothing.