Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…
Breathing is important. I thought I learned that pretty well in the hypnobirthing class I took when I was pregnant with my second actual baby (as opposed to my second actual pregnancy–I’ve been knocked up 6 times all together, but I’ve had a series of unfortunate miscarriages or busting fallopian tubes). I learned at hypnobirthing class that holding your breath while pushing was stupid. Duh, you should be working hard to breath your baby out rather than turning blue because you are holding your breath while some crazy people yell at you to PUSH!PUSH!PUSH!PUSH!PUSH!PUSH! When it came time to actually give birth using my newly learned and frequently practiced hypnobirthing breathing I don’t remember how the hell I was breathing, but it worked. And it worked again about 18 months later with my third actual baby.
I don’t remember with either births if I actually did the very slow breaths in and out that I had practiced, but I do remember the visualization of breathing down. So, for me I was convinced of the power of breathing. But thinking about it now how could I be so surprised? I have always been a fan of breathing and oxygen…well, at least since high school. Two things happened in high school that made interested in breathing. One was my chemistry teacher, Mr. Hess who used to walk up and down the aisles of desks when we were taking tests and would remind us to breath. I flunked the class and didn’t graduate from my high school because of it, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t breathing.
The summer before the first year I tried to pass Mr. Hess’ class I started thinking about how breathing affects our mental and intellectual capacity. And I was thinking I was pretty darn smart, but I was also thinking other people were not. So I decided to periodically hold my breath for the betterment of others. I felt it important when I was around people I felt were particularly in need of a little extra oxygen (like my stupid ass brother) to hold my breath for as long as I could to give the dumber people a little extra. (I wasn’t counting on needing that oxygen myself later in order to pass chemistry either my junior or senior years at Pueblo High School.)
All kidding aside, I was faced with the realities of the importance of oxygen a few years ago when my oldest kid first started having seizures. Maybe he was just thinking I needed a little extra oxygen (back to joking for a second…ok done) because he would either stop breathing a little or sometimes a lot. I began seeing oxygen masks regularly and once I watched as a tube was shoved down his throat so that a machine could help him breath. When our son has had seizures at home we haven’t had a handy dandy device letting us know how well our son is breathing. We always relied on just watching and yelling "Breath, son! Breath!" (It’s a lot like Run, Forest, run!" now that I think about it.) It’s always been crazy to hope for the best without the benefit of machines telling us how worried we should be.
It’s truly difficult for me to see how well my kid is breathing when it’s a small movement of the chest area normally, but a seizure is huge jerks–for our kid anyway–of head, arms, and body. I keep replaying the last seizure in my mind. It was about three nights ago now. I was alone with him (and that’s a lot of pressure by the way). It was up to me to make sure we were both breathing. We must have been. I acted in a calm manner (not at all usual for me) and he came out of the seizure and post-ictal phase* pretty quickly.
I don’t that what I’m making any sense. But I just wanted to put it out there that if there was a fan page on Facebook for breathing I would totally become a fan.
*Google it, it’s 2am and I’m too tired to put a link to explain it even though I’m not tired enough to go to sleep.
