Sitting here in her room in the dark, by the light of her ventilator, watching her because although nothing is obviously wrong, she's just been 'different' the past couple of nights. I don't know if she's just getting her days and nights mixed up, if seizures are to blame, or if there's something more. But this, this is part of what it means to be a special needs mom. This is the part that rarely gets shared, one reason being that it's simply too dark to even hardly see. It's moments like these that can seem the loneliest, when no one else is up or realizes that this is a regular part of what it means to care for your child. It's moments like this when often, the night turns out fine, but you know that one day, it won't be. And it's times like this that I think of all the other people who are in similar situations, who feel alone in the darkness, and pray that they realize they are not alone, and that they know that someone somewhere is praying for them.