I never read the inserts in the medication bags from the pharmacy.

I’ve always felt it was sorta like reading Doctor Google. If we all search hard enough, we can all find one million things that we can react to with every single thing we come in contact with every day.

It’s kinda like signing a consent for surgery, with the fine print that says “and death” can occur. Of course it can.

So, I always toss out the handouts with the long list of all of the side effects and reactions one can have with every medication we toss into our bodies.

But, tonight, I find myself overwhelmed reading every single insert for Ben’s new medication. He’s reached the stage in his epilepsy where he needs seizure medications. With the last seizure, Andrew and I braced ourselves for this as an option. Now here we are. 

We made a physician switch, to a physician I trust completely – and needed to hear her say it. I needed to hear her say “he has epilepsy and needs meds”. I have seen them, his seizures, I’ve seen the diagnosis written down, I’ve held him during and after, I’ve sat up all night praying he’d be okay after a seizure – but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. This isn’t fair. It’s Too much.

So, on Tuesday – she said the words we needed to hear and in our complete faith in her experience and compassion – we agreed to medication for Benjamin.

So, here I am. On a Friday night, reading every single line of the insert. Twice. Looking up the dose. Confirming titration schedules. Making a checklist and setting phone alarms as reminders so we don’t mess up.

And crying. Because I’m ridiculous and angry and sad and don’t want to face the fact that my kid keeps piling up with these diagnoses that are life changing. Life altering diagnosis, and now, with one wrong step or one bad day – could literally be the difference between life and death for Benjamin.

I started to think about how soft I am. Some of my friends have lost their babies, have carried them through things I can’t even imagine. I don’t know how some of you mammas do this. Carry much bigger burdens than I do daily, because these little things – sure do feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.

But, Tonight, as I was gathering the handouts and sitting down, I come across a necklace my mom sent home with Andrew to give to me. A little charm. FAITH. Behind it, a mustard seed. This is pretty significant to me for many reasons, but tonight came at the right time – as I need to cast my anxiety away, let go of my fear, Hand over my burden and have faith that God will help get us through.

I am still gonna read the inserts, probably one more time – but I’m gonna believe that even in these really heavy moments – when my hope feels so small, my little tiny seed of faith – will help carry me.