I've had lots of people ask me how I ever survived my journey with Graham. And I think to myself a lot about how I did it, and how I was ever that strong. I think about if the next one has the same condition and I find myself amping myself up, trying to find more strength, preparing for the what if's. Then I ran across this post from Kelle Hampton, about fight of flight syndrome as a mother and this completely sums up why we do the things we do for our kids, and SURVIVE it.
"But the other amazement in all of this is the instinctive initiation of the Fight receptors in the sudden surge of Fight-or-Flight that ensues when your baby gets sick or your kid falls off the top bunk or your toddler slips into the deep end with a quiet splash, or maybe you just received news that your brand new baby has a genetic condition that makes her different. You fight, without even knowing it. You rise to the occasion. You jump in, save them, wipe tears, call doctors, hold compresses, pull yourself together and you fight like hell. As "minor" in the world of parenthood snafus as our trip to the ER was, I couldn't help but recognize the fight that commences and the calmness that deploys. You just know what to do. You tell the What-if voices to shut the hell up, and you advocate for your child-- attentively, fiercely, fully."
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