PTSD

Dear Olivia,

It was a long and stressful three-day weekend, but your brother is doing much better. His RSV is awful, but compared to yours maybe it isn’t that bad. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t have Epilepsy. He’s had fevers ranging from 101.0 to 104.1. It scared the shit out of me! Every time it got over 102 I thought about you and how we would be preparing for a seizure or on our way to the hospital. That only occurred 3x before your final one, but now I’m paranoid and have more medically related PTSD. I’ll never say I hate a disability or any of that other crap I see non-disabled parents say or write about their disabled kids, but I’m not a fan of seizures. They scare me. I’m not use to them like I am my own disabilities. I can take a fracture over a seizure any day.

Olivia, what’s it like where you are? Can you see us? 

I look in your bedroom every morning and every night. Part of me wants to sleep in your bed. I want to feel closer to you or dream about you. I’ve only dreamed about your Grandma Donna three times in the seven years that she’s been gone. I just want to see your smiling face. I miss everything about you. 

I love you.

Love,

Momma

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