So it's true, when you have kids, you don't know what's next.
I'm talking about last Friday.
One minute, I was enjoying a moment of peace and sense of accomplishment with all my girls down for their regular nap.
The next minute, I was sitting in the ambulance having a meltdown with my six-month-old Lauren hooked up to an oxygen mask.
My poor baby had just suffered from her first febrile seizure.
What on earth is a febrile seizure?
I, myself, had never even heard of the term until three days ago ― until I thought my daughter almost died from it.
Febrile seizures are full-body convulsions that are caused by high fevers or a sudden spike in body temperature.
Some common symptoms include a sudden stiffening of the body, change in skin color to blue or purple, and a painful cry, all of which were signs that Lauren showed when the nanny first found her shaking and screaming in her crib.
I had just left home to run some quick errands when I got a call from the nanny, who was freaking out after witnessing the baby's unusual behavior.
She urged me to call 911, but I thought, the situation can't be that bad.
I rushed back home within minutes and immediately saw that there was no exaggeration here.
My daughter didn't recognize me, made no eye contact, was bluish purple from head to toe and her body was hard as a rock.
Something was definitely wrong.
I called 911 right away.
The responder gave me a long series of instructions to follow, which, at the time in that state of urgency, seemed impossible to do.
For example, she told me to say ''now'' each time the baby took a breath.
It was hard for me tell if the baby was even breathing at that point, so I didn't know how in the world I was supposed to accurately measure her breathing.
As a mom, it was already terrifying enough to have to wonder if my child was breathing or not.
The responder did not let me hang up the call and after what seemed like the longest five minutes ever, the paramedics team ― an ambulance, fire truck and a police car ― showed up at my door.
They, literally, were lifesavers.
Come to think of it now, the emergency response here in the U.S. really is impressive.
Lauren was immediately taken inside the ambulance and hooked up to an oxygen mask and all kinds of other lines as I nervously watched to see changes in her appearance.
The paramedics spoke unfamiliar medical language with each other, but I was able to tell that they were saying that she was recovering from an apparent seizure.
The word recovering was all I cared about.
Thank God.
After about 15 minutes in the ambulance, Lauren very slowly regained her normal skin color and began making eye contact.
She was then off to the Emergency Room for a full-blown diagnosis screening.
After about four hours of testing and waiting, we discovered that she had urinary tract infection (UTI)
UTI? I was surprised with the diagnosis.
UTI is familiar territory for me.
Ann, one of the twin girls, had two episodes of UTI and both times her temperature spiked to 105 degrees Fahrenheit, but there was no seizure involved.
So what made Lauren respond to her urinary infection in such an extreme way?
Here comes the magic answer ― all babies are different.
As the doctor explained, there's really no other better way to put it.
I simply can't expect to have all three kids react to one event in the same, identical manner.
Lauren, I was told, is just a baby who cannot tolerate a high temperature so I must give her fever medication even for the mildest fever.
I still have some unanswered questions I need to address with her pediatrician, but as for now, I am thankful that my little girl is alive and well.
I find myself replaying that dire moment when I first saw Lauren in so much pain.
Even when I'm doing the dishes, taking a shower or lying in bed to go to sleep, I think about that moment.
What would've happened if the situation turned for the worst?
What could I have done to prevent Lauren from going through that horrific experience?
What should I do if another episode occurs?
Something for me to think about.
And here I go, stepping into another level of parenthood yet again.