I found this awesome book at Books A Million (though I probably could have gotten it cheaper at Amazon…). It talks about seizures in kids, but it goes into so much more than just the seizures. In fact, it talks about the process of coping that parents go through. Much like the grieving process, it goes through 4 rather emotional stages (personally, I think those stages are even more pronounced when your child has seizures and a brain tumor).
Anyhow, it starts with fear – understandably. Then comes grief, which I remember well. After that is anger. And at first I staunchly denied that I was angry. Until. I. read. on. Anger comes in the form of being angry at your spouse (for not being more ever-present / super-hero-powered / involved / whatever), angry at your nurses (Why can’t they get it on the first stick? Why are they running so late? Why didn’t she smile just now? What’s she smiling about?!) And upon reading that, I realized, I certainly have been angry. Sometimes with rational reasons, sometimes not so rational. And anger really eats away at a person. In fact, it’s one of those weird things that doesn’t need a reason to exist or even an object. You can just walk through your day angry and not know why. (Hence the ridiculous amount of sarcasm I’ve thrust upon those close to me lately.)
Honestly, I think I’m over the anger bit. There wasn’t a stitch of anger (or even sarcasm) when the pharmacist gave us the wrong prescription (I’m thankful that I checked it though). Or when the nurses wouldn’t let me into the EEG room when they were attaching my son to it (the fumes are dangerous in pregnancy). I had to stand outside and listen to him cry.
Anyhow, the last stage is acceptance, and it’s a healthy place to be. It’s a nice place to be, though I do kind of wish I didn’t have to be here at all – I’d rather be the parent who never had to think about seizures, or growths in the brain. But here I am, and for now, it’s home.