Power Wheels

I want to buy the kids a Power Wheels Jeep. Can we afford it? No. After crying all afternoon I think I've figured out why I even want it.

I worry about Emeric and whether or not he'll live a good life. I wonder if there's something going on that might take him away from me. I wonder if his seizures won't be able to be controlled and he'll end up mentally retarded. I just worry.

I feel guilty. I feel like my girls are getting the shaft because if I'm not running Emeric to the doctor's office I'm on the computer researching crap or on the phone trying to get his medical records sent over, or talking to the insurance company figuring stuff out, or I'm hushing the girls because one of the therapists is here working with Emeric.

So I'm trying to make it up to them. I want to buy them things, I want to take them places, I want to let them eat pop tarts for breakfast everyday when they want them because I feel bad.

I want to buy them this stupid, meaningless power wheels jeep because I know it will make them smile, which will make me smile, which will get my mind off everything else. For a while at least.

I feel guilty for making it all such a big deal. There are plenty of people that deal with things far worse than I do everyday and have a lot more strength than I do. I feel like on the outside I do have that strength but on the inside I just want to hide away in my room and pretend like everything is fine.

I want God to heal Emeric. I don't know why he won't. I don't know what his plan is but right now I'm feeling like I don't like his plan unless it includes not making Emeric suffer.

I can't get over this guilt. I will forever live with the guilt that had I not had so much intervention in my pregnancy he would be fine. It is all my fault and I didn't even NEED any of that. I could've chosen to live with the pain and held off but I didn't. I was selfish. It wasn't even that bad, just an annoying ache. But, when it was all going on my husband paid attention to me and that felt good. I know in my heart I could've went without most of the stuff I took while I was pregnant and even though doctors were telling me I needed it I know I didn't. I could've said, "no the pain isn't that bad" and dealt with it, but I didn't, and now I'll pay. Worse than that is Emeric will pay. My poor baby is going through all of this because of me.

None of this makes me love him any less. If anything I love him more. It isn't about being disappointed that he's not the "perfect boy" we'd hoped for, because he is. It's about the fact that he'll live with all of this because of me. I know it's "just" seizures but right now it's feeling like a death sentence.