Last night, Monkey Boy had another migraine. Terrible, horrible, no good very bad day kind of migraine. And it started right as I had a horrible headache kicking in. And had just walked in the door from a very long day and evening. So away to his bed we went…yellow barf bowl in hand… And minutes after getting to his room, it was already in use. I had a dreadful feeling that t it was going to be a long night. And, sadly, I wasn’t wrong. Thrashing in pain, crying, throwing covers off, begging for the pain to stop, puking…this was our night. And if you knew my sweet, sweet boy, you would know that all of these things are so out of character. He has actually begged to die during migraines before.
You can imagine how this tears into my momma heart. I would do anything to make him feel better…but I just can’t. For some reason, the medicine wasn’t working, and most of my ways of trying to calm him down weren’t working. At one point, while I was trying to give him another dose of his migraine meds (a tiny little pill), he threw his arms around, elbowing me and sending the tiny pill flying…in the dark onto his bed. Thankfully I felt around and found it quickly.
He did have periods of time when he would quiet and rest rather peacefully. At one point, I thought it had finally passed, and I started to roll over to get up out of the bed. The sweet thing grabbed my hand. No words were needed to tell me he still needed me to stay with him.
I continued to lay with him, my mind reeling with things I could be, should be doing, like sleeping. I finally dozed off after midnight, and when I woke up at 1:15 and he was sleeping soundly, I decided it was safe to climb into my own bed. I was so tired, I even contemplated going to bed in my clothes. The thought of sleeping in jeans instead of comfy pajama pants changed my mind.
The next morning, I roused myself begrudgingly out of bed and straight to the coffee pot. I somehow made it through getting Mr Football fed breakfast and off to school…though I think I was sleepwalking.
And when it was time for him to get up…here comes Monkey Boy practically bounding into the kitchen! I asked how he was feeling and he said ‘good!’
Really??? This boy who was so manic, writhing in pain hours before was good?
And then, my precious boy did something I will never forget. He wrapped his arms around me, hugged me tight and simply said, “Thank you for being there.”
I’ve never heard him say a thank you like this…and as he said it, my heart melted. For a ‘words of affirmation’ girl like me, he couldn’t have said or done anything better. Those simple words were a gift to me. They told me that he appreciated me, loved me, recognized my sacrifice to support him through an emotional night, and most of all, that when he knew he needed to be comforted, he could count on me.
Sometimes the simplest words, the simplest deeds, can be the most meaningful. I am so thankful for a boy who is so generous with his words that he makes a weary, struggling momma feel like she’s not screwing everything up. Like maybe some of what she does really does matter (even if deep down she knows it does) and she is appreciated for who she is and all she does.
Who can you tell “Thank you for being there” today? I promise you both will be blessed if you tell them!!
This is a picture of my silly Monkey Boy the morning after his migraine. Isn’t he adorably crazy?