|Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for hosting this annual challenge.|
Once upon a time, two and a half weeks ago, my son told one of his teachers at school that he was planning to commit suicide. Not only had he thought about it, he had considered three possible ways to go about it. He had said that he tried to tell me that he was feeling very sad, but he couldn't get me to understand how much he was hurting.
He is 12 years old.
We had been working on his anxiety for some time, seeing a counselor regularly, and he had begun medication to treat the visible onset of depression. We had strategies in place, and I felt like we were making progress. I wanted to make progress. I was determined to make progress. Until that day, I was not willing to accept anything but progress.
That day he was begging for help. That day I opened my ears and listened. That day my husband and I drove him to the hospital. That day was the hardest day of my life.
Now we are in the After. After his discharge, I told him about his Birth Day. That day was one of the best days of my life. My third baby, my last baby, he arrived full force in a hurry. We barely made it to the hospital in time. No meds, no epidural, I barely made it to the bed before his head began to crown. I wanted him to know every detail of that moment he arrived in our lives. I wanted him to experience the joy of his birth story. After he was born, our lives were forever changed for the better.
His Story is important. Ever After should be full of life and adventure and hope. Now his adventure will continue. He knows it won't be easy-- he will have battles and struggles along the way, but the light has returned to his eyes. He will continue his Ever After.