About 22 years ago, I experienced something that a mother never forgets. That was a feeling of helplessness and the inability to help my child who was in pain. As a mother, no, I will never forget it but I rarely ever conjure it up in my mind again. Oh, but last night, not only did I remember, I was brought right back to that painful place.

It first happened when my Tiff was a baby. She suffered with several ear infections during her first year of life. These infections were painful for her, but they also caused her to have very high fevers. The very first episode was the scariest. She’d suddenly developed a 105 degree temperature, began hallucinating, and was on the verge of a convulsion. I called her pediatrician as I was running out of the door (no cell phones then, this was 1988) to the Emergency Room. He called the ER ahead telling them all that I explained so that they would be on alert. We were met at the door as we ran in and they took my Tiffanie from me to immediately begin the procedure of a spinal tap. We did not know at the time that it was an ear infection, and they wanted to rule out anything else.

I was there alone with Tiff because I insisted that my husband stay at home with our son, who was also a baby at that time (Tiff and Jerry Jr. are only 19 months apart in age). Well, the nurses and doctors would not let me stay in the exam room because (I was told) I would not want to see this procedure, and I would be in the way. I stepped out of the room and all I remember hearing was my baby screaming at the top of her lungs. They had to hold me back because it was killing me inside not to be in the room with her. All I could do was break down and cry myself. I was a mess as they worked on my baby.

I was finally able to go into the room and I had pulled myself together by then. I didn’t want Tiff to see me in that state. When I got to her, she’d ceased crying as well, but the look in her eyes just went through me. First, you know how children and babies are after a big cry. Tears may have stopped, but they’re still breathing deeply from the big cry. But Tiffanie’s eyes asked me, “why did you leave me?” She was about 6 months old and could not talk, but her face, eyes, and tears said it all. I picked her up and could only hug her and kiss her, as I spoke sweetly to her to calm her down.

I felt so helpless. I also felt that way 5 years later when she had to have surgery. After they’d given her the anasthesia, they wheeled her off to the Operating Room. I crumbled and cried again as they entered the doors leaving me behind. I went as far with her as I could. I was again helpless. I could not fix the problem myself. I couldn’t help her. She was compeltely out of my hands, put under anasthesia, and I could not do anything for her.

Helpless!

That pain is so deep for a mother. And a mother never ceases to be a mother, even when our babies grow up. I was brought back to that feeling of helplessness last night as my now 22 year old Tiffanie experienced once more something that I could not fix. This time it wasn’t physical. It was emotional. Her heart was broken and she felt crushed inside. I couldn’t help her, again I was helpless.

As she told me of the news that she was not accepted into a particular graduate’s program that she wanted to attend, I heard her pain and dismay. And then I heard and felt her tears. Now, my Tiff is one who rarely ever cries. I’m the emotional one, not her. She was so deeply hurt and all I wanted to do was to pick her up, hug her, and speak sweetly to her. I couldn’t because she lives on campus and I am here at home. It was late at night and I wanted to jump in the car and make the hour and half drive because my child was hurting. But I couldn’t because I needed to be here at home with my youngest child.

Well, I couldn’t physically hug Tiff, but I did remain composed and soothing. I encouraged her, I empathized with her, I told her how much I love her and how proud I am of her. I did not tell her to stop crying, I told her to let it out. But, I let her know that this is only a bump in the road and it’s not the end. I said a lot more and I know that what I said was what she needed, but inside my heart was still hurting because my baby was hurting! I am sure that I’m like most parents in that we don’t want to see our children upset. And just as I felt when she was a baby and young child, I was helpless. I couldn’t fix it at that moment. I couldn’t make it better. I couldn’t make her better. I couldn’t remove the pain.

When we hung up, I lost it! I had my moment of gut-wrenching tears, yet again. Yes, once again, I was brought back to the ER and the OR.

I am thankful, however, that we have faith, hope, and trust in God. Today is a new day. We are moving forward exploring more options and we are confident that Tiff will indeed get into another graduate program. Even if it means that she has to sit a year out after she graduates in May, she will return to get her Master’s.

We are looking forward to great things!

Carla Y. Nix