A couple weeks ago, our sweet little three-year-old daughter was bit by a rattlesnake while playing in the yard with her brother, cousin, and aunt at my sister’s house. (Note: If you’re wondering why I continued to make blog posts during this time, it was because they were already pre-scheduled.) We almost lost her, but we didn’t, and this story has a very happy ending. The venom spread through her extremely small body very quickly, and because we live in a remote, rural area, the anti-venom took an excruciatingly long time to arrive. Then, when the anti-venom was first administered, she had an allergic reaction and her throat swelled almost completely closed. She went into cardiac arrest, but they were able to get an oral breathing tube through her throat and do chest compressions to bring her back. They tried to intubate, but with the swelling that had occurred, they were not able to. I did not witness this part of the process, and while many mothers would probably be relieved to not have seen that, I am struggling with a lot of regret that I wasn’t there. I was in the hallway when I found out that we were losing her. I said, with what little breath I had left, “If we are going to lose her, I need to be right beside her as she goes out.” Despite all the worrying I had done over my children since they were born, and all the times I had these life-threatening scenarios go through my head, I was not at all prepared for this situation. In that moment, I didn’t have time to think about all the things I wanted to teach her and experience with her in her short life. I simply wanted to comfort her and tell her how much I loved her.
Mamas, we can’t help ourselves: we worry. A LOT. About everything. Rattlesnake bites are always a possibility in this country, and I’ve played out what I would do if my child were ever bit a gazillion times. And here I was, living out my worst nightmare, and I wasn’t following “the plan” at all. In fact, I didn’t even think about said plan. We can worry our little heads off our entire life and believe me when I tell you that it is worth nothing when the real tragedy strikes. All those times you planned what you would do, all those times you ran worst-case-scenarios through your head, do not prepare you in any way for these kinds of situations. Ultimately, it’s all in God’s hands. He simply wasn’t ready for my little girl. He knew she had more great things to do in this life.
When I walked back in the room, her vitals were improving. She wasn’t breathing on her own, but she was alive. Shortly after, the life flight crew arrived to put the intubation tube in and fly her and I to Billings. This was not the end of the scary moments for us, but I will spare you too much detail, and just say that we ended up in the hospital for five days, then brought home our healthy little girl. Here we are a couple weeks later, and she is back to her normal, sassy, sweet self. She still has a large bruise, but it isn’t slowing her down. She is back to riding her horse, riding her bike, busting out all her best dance moves, and all the things she did before. She suffered no brain damage (due to the cardiac arrest) and is still quick witted and smart as a whip.
Outside of holding the kids hostage indoors, there was nothing that could have been done to prevent this encounter. My kids know not to mess with snakes. My sister’s large dog, who is very protective of the kids and who also hates snakes, didn’t even notice this one. None of them even saw him until it was too late. In this process, I have learned way more about rattlesnakes than I ever cared to learn. One of those things is that this time of year they are molting (shedding their skin) and often don’t rattle. They are also partially blind, which means they will strike rather than flee. Again, too much information about rattlesnakes.
We spend too much time worrying about things that are entirely out of our control. This worrying truly has no beneficial effect. It does NOT prepare you better. It causes anxiety and a plethora of other less than desirable feelings. I also know that you can’t just choose to stop worrying one day. We’re mamas, we will always worry to some extent. And that is completely okay. But I am asking you to develop a healthy relationship with worry. It takes practice, but it will help you live a more wholehearted life.
Do me a favor. Drop/relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, lightly rest your tongue on the bottom of your mouth, take three DEEP, slow breathes in through your nose and out through your mouth, and say, “God, I hand my worries over to you and trust in Your plan.”