Just a mother bear and her cub

About two weeks ago I was at church with the kids and my parents. We had just returned from receiving communion and were kneeling when I realized Ben was fainting. He swayed one way towards my mom, then straightened himself, but before I could do anything he fell over, hitting his head as he went. My mother and I, still trying to figure out what was happening, tried to lift him, but his legs were stuck under the pew. We finally got him up and on the bench and to this day I can picture his face. His eyes were wide open, but he wasn't there.

By this time the people around us knew something was wrong, and someone jumped up to go get water. In the second row, my choice was to go out the door closest to me in the front of the church and end up in the hot sun, or get him to the back of the church where the exit and bathrooms were. I scooped up my tall, gangly, 65 pound eight year old and started for the back. He was dead weight, and I was in heels, and as crazy as it sounds, what was running through my head was I was afraid my silk skirt was stuck in my underwear.

About halfway through the church Ben came out of it and started wailing, afraid and confused. I pulled him closer and whispered to him that everything would be all right. I finally got to the back and laid him down on the cold tile floor. A cup of water appeared. Damp paper towels appeared. Slowly he started to look like himself again. The whole experience lasted just a few minutes, but was scary and surreal.

For the next few days I would see people in the grocery store, or at a baseball game that I knew went to our church, but no one ever said anything. Maybe it wasn't as disruptive and crazy as I had imagined it. But a few days ago a dad stopped me at school and asked how Ben was doing. I told him Ben was fine and hopefully it was nothing. He said when it happened he made a move to get up and help me carry Ben, but he said I was like a mother bear and her cub, and the look on my face told him to just stay out of my way. I laughed when I heard this, but the more I reflected on this I realized he was right. Something kicks in when your child is hurting or in need and you go into auto pilot. I have often thought what would I do if the kids had an accident, or if there was an emergency, and a small part of me is relieved to know that I hopefully won't panic. My mother bear will come out.