Purple day 2025: I met my younger self for coffee today.....

 I met my younger self for coffee today, she was early, an expectant mum to be, anxious to be out alone.
I arrived on time by the skin of my teeth, because I cram so much into my days, I’m always convinced I have more time than I do.

​She apologies as she sends a text letting the safety network know where she is and that she’s safe. She looks sad as she asks if it will always be this way, I smile as I tell her no, then I grin because she won’t believe where life has taken us.
I tell her one day she will be back in the workplace not worrying about a seizure on the way to work, that she will retrain (twice) and be fortunate enough to have a career she loves and always dreamed of. I watch as she looks at me sceptically and I nod knowingly remembering the pain. Although I laugh as I tell her her sister always has tabs on movements with or without seizures.
 
I smile as we both order a large tea, finishing it quickly before ordering another. That will never change, tea will be our go to in good times and in bad.
 
She asks me if the seizures will ever stop, if she will ever be enough to raise this tiny baby, will she ever not be a danger, will she make it to the end of her pregnancy. The questions rush out, I see the fear in her eyes, and I feel it in my heart. I nod hurriedly. I tell her she does make it to the end of her pregnancy and that bump is now a thriving ten-year-old (careful not to reveal the gender). I tell her not only is she not a danger, but she will also teach that bump so much compassion and understanding for others because of the grace we have been shown. She will teach the baby what it means to feel fear and do it anyway, to chase your dreams. She will teach them not to let a condition define you. Let someone tell you no and you do it anyway, it’s the attitude that meant we were having this baby, and it stands us in good stead for life.
 
I tell her the fear of seizures never really goes away but she learns to live with it again, that it won’t always be this all-consuming fear every time she is alone. I tell her we are 18 months seizure free. I notice the gulp as she says she is less than 24 hours. I tell her she will never take a seizure free day for granted no matter how many there are, because I remember this time too vividly.
 
I laugh and tell her I used the fire that’s always made us so stubborn and am taking the very medication we stopped taking to have the baby. She understands the significance, even then.
 
She tells me about a blog she has been writing to keep herself occupied, I smile knowingly, wanting her to discover for herself the difference she makes for others amongst her own storms. I sit silently in awe still of the journey we have been on.
 
She holds back tears as she asks if we ever decide to have more, I shake my head. I tell her once was enough and whilst that takes some time to accept once she meets that tiny bundle, she will have more love in her heart than she knew possible.
 
We go to pay, and I hug her and tell her that whilst life won’t always be easy, she ends up with the most incredible baby and she is everything they could possibly need and more, epilepsy included. Whilst it’s not all of who we are, it has helped shape us into who we are today and that’s someone she should be very proud of.