My sweet, sweet boy, the pain I hear when you wake shrieking at night, the “help me, help me, help me” is like a knife straight into my heart, twisted, and left there as I slowly bleed out… Waking you is rarely the answer, I know. Initially I do not attempt it, because sometimes you will just sleep. Other times, times like tonight, your piercing scream sears me and I cry in pain with you. I hold you, I cuddle you I bend your knees, the fetal position, I try to wake you, I do everything I can to wake you, I play music and I pray.
Yes, I pray. Is this a seizure? Is this a night horror? Is this worse? You say “Ow, Ow, OW!” and I beg you to show me where. You press against your ears, I hold them closed with pressure knowing this could be sensory, your ears are plugged, your nose is stuffy.
You ask for more light, you ask for less, you curl your toes in pain, you extend them in the very next breath.
You never show me, you just beg, “Help me!” and all I want to do is help you.
Oh, sweet boy, if I knew what to do to help, I would instantly, anything for you. I would take your pain, all of it. I live in fear that it is your brain and again you will regress, we will start over.
Three words, that was all that was left with your last regression.
Three words: Momma, Dadda, drink.
Three words…could I manage three words, from all the words you now possess? Could you lose the words “I love you” three times? Would we get through this all again if again you regress?
And our family, could we survive another huge regression?
If you do regress, will you again find your way through the thick swamp and the fog and come back to us as you have in the past? Forcing forward, always forcing you forward, I pray, please G-d don’t take my sweet boy away again. Please let him be with us. You prays, sweet, sweet boy, you prays regularly, you chant prayers when you are upset. Tonight I am asking, please, higher power, please hear these prayers, not just ours, and help us all continue moving forward. Please.
It’s over in what seems like hours but is more likely ten minutes. It’s over and all the thoughts racing about my head slow…whatever makes you scream and cry and shout and writhe in pain, whatever makes you cry “Ow” and beg “Help me” stops, it just ends and you wake up.
“Hello.” The world is fresh and new and you are your sweet, almost always happy self! I love you more than I could ever express sweet boy. Stay with me. Stay with us. We will do all we can to help make sure this happens. I am so certain that for you, it’s not easy being here, just please stay.
Please.
Xo
Mom
Faith blogs @ Rantings of an ADHD Mom 2 3’s Rantings
Kindness Blog 
this moves me to tears, what a courageous mom and sweet boy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So tender…warm regards…Karen
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really feel for you as a mother, the despair that seeps from your words touches my soul. May God Bless you with the answers you need to help your little one, & know your family will be in my family’s prayers.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My son does this. I use EMDR techniques on the sides of his knees, tapping them arrhythmically. It shortens the fit, immediately. I hope you find something that works.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My grandson has suffered from night terrors and it is so terrible so this really moved me
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so moving. It makes me tear up as a parent as you want that God-like power to make it all better. Take comfort in “Momma, Dadda, drink” as “I do love you and please help me.” Best wishes on following your wonderful instincts to digest the problem and provide comfort. My wife and I have had different issues with ours, but you do your best day-by-day and hope for the best in return. Peace and strength be with you, BTG
LikeLiked by 1 person