When my old friend came to visit

What happens when, no matter how much you try to be a good mother, you can't prevent your child from suffering? In this journey, self-doubt is not uncommon, especially after you witness your child's meltdowns. 

It happened tonight. Because Tessa would not leave Ton's side while she played with the IPad, he freaked out and blew up. Tessa left eventually but there was no stopping the crash. We had reached "the point of no return," as I call it.

His meltdowns are always gut-wrenching.

I sat there, trying my best to calm him down. "Breathe, Ton. Breathe so you will stop crying." He tried a couple of times to stop the meltdown, but he kept going back to the screaming and the tears.

Then, he said, "I want hug." So I did, hoping the deep pressure of my arms around him would relax him. It did not.

Because I knew that he always looked forward to playing with the Galaxy Tab after his night bath, I repeatedly said, "do you want Galaxy Tab?" He would run to it and play for a few seconds but then he would go back again to the screaming and crying. Over and over for 30 minutes.

As he crashed over and over, I crashed with him. I would watch him try hard to stop himself from crying because he wanted to play with the Galaxy Tab badly, but he just kept losing the battle each time. During those few seconds of calm, I hoped that he would win the fight. Each time I was optimistic that he would end this night happy. Instead, he just pushed himself deeper and deeper into his own internal chaos. 

My heart broke. My insides felt like they were being squeezed bloodless. There is truly nothing more painful for a mother than to see her child suffer; but to watch your little boy, in the span of 30 minutes, ride waves of emotional extremes again and again is torture.

I feel it deeply when he goes through it, you know- the peaks and troughs of these emotional waves. It is a familiar feeling from when I was younger and depressed. It is in the heavy crying that emanates from some invisible pit within. It's in the conscious effort you give to calm yourself down. It's in the extreme anger and energy you want to unleash that makes you want to rip pillowcases and throw things around. Most of all, it is in the gut-wrenching plea, "please, God, make it stop! I don't want to cry anymore!"

I was depressed for many years when I was younger.

So I'm familiar with what Ton goes through but I can only imagine how much tougher it is for him because he cannot verbally let it out. And, like when I was 19, I now plead, "please God, make it stop!" but not for me but for my beloved son. And, just like when I was 19, my tears flow from deep inside because my old, familiar friend "depression" once again came to visit.

I was lost most of my life. The sanest moments I've ever had were my happy moments of motherhood. To see my children happy, healthy and at peace- those are the things I now live for. So when Ton goes through this internal turmoil, the ground disappears from under me again and I am once again sucked into this vortex of emotions that I cannot control.

What does a good mother do? For me there really is no other option but to get sucked in, ride the waves, crash, struggle to catch a breath then do it all over again until all the energy is gone- in him and in me.

Now that Ton is asleep and I have stopped crying, I ask myself again "what happens when you realize that no amount of good parenting will stop your child from suffering?" 

You say a short prayer of gratitude that your child is at peace now. Then you hug yourself tight and say a little prayer for yourself, too. "Dear God, please let tomorrow be a better day. And give me the strength to hold on for whatever will come our way."

I would do anything to see him like this
all the time.