An Open Letter to my Daughters
As you grow and get older every day, you make mommy more and more proud to be your mother. I am grateful to have two perfect little girls enter my life. I am sorry mommy cannot be around as much as she likes between school and work; trying to make the best life that I can for you both. But one day, I know you will understand.
What you may not understand is that mommy has a little battle. I know you know how to say the words “seizure” and “epilepsy.” To my three year old, you call it “accidents” and mommy appreciates every time you try to help mommy avoid “accidents” by moving chairs and sleeping by my bedside. To my two year old, you just picked up on calling them “accidents” and you always ask me if I had took my medication. You both ask me to show you each one as you call them “beans” and try to pronounce the name back to me and realize that this helps mommy. I appreciate both of your kisses on my scars from these “accidents” every morning before school and telling me “it’s okay mommy if you have accidents, I love you.”
I know I was “yucky” when I came home but that never stopped either of you from your hugs, kisses, and cuddles. Mommy is sorry she was sleepy and sore and could not be there for you as much for that first week but as you both tell me “it’s okay mommy, you have accidents, I love you.”
When you were younger, mommy had accidents too that scared her. I did not know how to go about telling you when you got older. I was afraid of how you would react to my “yucky” face and having to wait until mommy took all of her “beans.” I was terrified of the day you would witness one. When you were younger you witnessed mommy’s “accident” but you will probably not remember. You thought mommy had fallen asleep until Grammy and Grampy came in. Every day I thank whoever is watching out over me, over us, that you both were okay. Just like how I am thankful you were not in my car when I had another “accident.”
I am sorry you get worried for mommy at the ages of two and three. I never wanted you to be afraid or wonder when or if I will come home. I know going back to preschool was hard for you but you got better and stronger every day. Mommy wanted to reassure you and every day, despite the pain, I came to get you so you would know I was okay. It broke my heart the day you said “Mommy, I don’t want to lose you again,” as much I would love to reassure you that ‘you never will’ that is not always the case. But I will do everything I can so that you will never lose me. For you both are my heart and soul; there is not a thing I would not do. And I will never forget the words you say to me every day so I can stay strong:
“It’s okay mommy if you have accidents, I still love you.”
This was incredibly hard to write, but this is my reality and now their reality too