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There is a stain on my carpet to remind me of how quickly life can change. My youngest son suffered a febrile seizure last night and to say that it was traumatic would be putting it mildly. I have had countless assurances of how "common" febrile seizures are, but it does little to assuage the horror of watching your child go through one.

I had just moments before called my mother, my son's doctor, and my husband fearing that he was close to something serious. He had spent the day growing warmer and warmer, increasingly experiencing single spasms that would cause his whole body to jerk. Prenatal reading had warned me of actual seizures, but when it actually happened it defied all descriptions I had encountered.

Nobody wants to be that hysterical mother on the phone, trying to convey the urgency of her circumstance to an overly-calm dispatcher -- just as nobody wants to be that father driving home, pulling to the side of the road for an ambulance he fears is destined for his own home.

Over 24 hours later, I am finally able to lift the towel I hastily threw over the telltale stain on the carpet, where my little boy had emptied his stomach mid-seizure, and truly thank God for His Hand in my life. Last night I alternately wallowed in the mire of the many trials God seems to see fit to send our way and, as I so often have when going to the Children's Hospital, clutching at the rope of His Grace because I wasn't one of those other parents who has to spend multiple long nights at such a hospital. Tonight I can finally process, to a certain extent, what our family went through the night before, and just be so very grateful that we truly weren't the only ones holding our little boy.

He sleeps fitfully beside me as I write this, his little body still fighting off whatever infection has invaded his system. We hover over him as his temperature still fluctuates every four hours, the length of time between alternating dosages of Motrin and Tylenol, between 101 at its lowest and 105 at its peak. We know so many out there have been praying with us and for us, and we have no doubts as to the power that your prayers have...Thank you.

**An extra special thanks to one precious woman who only two weeks before was calling 911 on behalf of her loved one...she called us this morning with words of prayer and encouragement, a blessing that has touched us deeply.

**I apologize if this post comes across as melodramatic. I realize in the whole enormity that is life something so "common" may seem trivial. This blog has always been more of a processing tool for me than anything else. It just happens to be public. Please bear with me in that regard.