Mommy Won’t Ever Give Up

September 09, 2013


In our quest to help our son over the years, we have done some traditional and non-traditional treatments, I have read countless books, blogs and forums. I have been to so many conferences and presentations that I could probably present some of them on my own!

We have made diet changes and added supplements.  We spent years attempting to hide said supplements in his food (some of which smelled beyond awful -- I can only imagine the taste; the day my son learned to swallow capsules is a day I will celebrate forever!). We have also done treatments and tests that include lots of hours of waiting and poking, more waiting and poking – oh and more poking!

Many people don’t understand why we do this, and I used to get all technical and try to explain the science behind most of what we do, and when I think someone is really interested in it, I will still give the full story.  But most of the time I say, “I do this because I will do anything to help my son.” And it’s the truth. If someone told me that if I sent him to the moon he would get better, I would do everything in my power to get him there. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to help him. And over the years we have gone to drastic measures to make that happen.

I often used to wonder if he understood why we did what we did for and to him. Did he know that we were doing this to help him? Did he just think it was constant torture? Sometimes I would wonder who had the harder time, me or him?! Listening to him scream and cry while doing a blood draw, get mad and frustrated when he couldn’t tell me what he wanted, attempting to get him to take supplements when he didn’t want to – these were some of the hardest times I’ve had as a mother. I had a mantra, a pep talk if you will.  I used to say while administering anything – therapies, supplements, blood draws, pokes and prods -- "Mommy loves you. Mommy is trying to make your brain better. Mommy won’t ever give up." It was my way of letting him know that I will do anything to help him. I would just pray and hope that he understood me. He wasn’t verbal, so I had no idea.

Fast forward a year later, thanks to a combined approach between amazing therapists and biomedical treatments, Calvin started to gain some language back. It was minimal, but it was there. Around Mothers Day, he came home from school with a little potted flower and a little letter from his teacher. On the letter was what each child thought their mommy did best. Of course there were the ‘my mommy makes dinner, my mommy shops, my mommy…’ But my eyes were glued to the third line: “My mommy helps make my brain feel better.” HE GOT IT!!!! He really got it! I cried and thanked God. He got it. He knew we were trying to help him. It was the best gift I could ever receive.

To this day, this letter hangs in my house. When we are going through a rough time, or starting a new treatment, I look at this as a reminder. He knows why we do this. He gets it. Mommy won’t ever give up.