The Breakdown

The Breakdown

“Dear God…help all mothers everywhere. We need so much help, with the little sensitive, loving hearts and minds that look to us for guidance and love and understanding.”
Anne of Ingleside
By L.M. Montgomery

Leaning over Terence’s shoulder, I was reading his narrative essay for the week. He’d done quite a good job with his descriptions of a fantastic landscape and the mythical creatures that inhabited it.

“Mom!!” I heard panic in the voice coming from outside the back door. I knew someone had been hurt and I rushed toward the door. As I opened it, Leilani ran toward me holding her wrist and screaming, “I cut my hand!!! Mom!! I cut my hand!”

My heart was in my mouth as I saw her hysterical face. Putting my arms around her I guided her toward the kitchen sink where we could wash it. I was trying to keep my voice calm and my actions matter-of-fact, but at Deanna’s “You both need to just calm down!” I could tell I wasn’t succeeding.

Leilani took her hand away from the cut, which was right under the heel of the hand on the wrist, and blood started running everywhere. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel so good and I could feel myself turning pale. Grabbing a washcloth, I put it against the cut, raised her arm above her head and squeezed until she said, “Ow, it hurts!”

“What happened exactly?” asked Deanna. She was trying to keep Leilani’s mind off of the blood and focused on something else to stay calm.

“I was climbing out of the tree and there was a little broken branch sticking out. When I swung down, it cut my hand!” Leilani was trying to speak clearly and think about the story instead of her cut. I think she was doing better than I.

Leilani had tears running down her cheeks and her lips were a bit blue against the pale white face where the freckles were standing out like little brown spots made with a marker. She looked up at me suddenly and said, “I have to go to the bathroom!” as she crossed her legs.

I guided her to the toilet still holding her wrist in my hand. My legs felt weak and I had to sit down. Deanna was there with a glass of water for Leilani, but I had to take a few sips myself. Mikayla brought 2 washcloths: one for me and one for Leilani. I put it against my face and tried to think of something else to keep from getting nauseous.

The thought that Leilani might really be badly hurt kept me from passing out completely. The thought that she could be so badly hurt was what was making me feel faint in the first place. This was my baby!

After a few moments, I dared to look under the cloth around her wrist. Thank goodness the bleeding had stopped completely and the cut was not as bad as I had thought at first. Now, I was faint with relief. My hands tingled and my legs felt like jelly.

Deanna looked at me and said, “Mom! Everything is going to be okay. Just take a deep breath. Here, have another sip!” and she handed me the glass of water.

“I think we need to lie down.” I said weakly. “Deanna, if you could get some BandAids and some antibiotic ointment for Leilani, I would really appreciate it.”

Leilani and I got up off the bathroom floor slowly. I had to take several deep breaths and so did she. In spite of it not being so bad, the cut still hurt. We went into the kitchen and let the luke warm water wash over the cut for about 5 minutes. She and I were both a little wet when we turned off the tap.

With relief on my part, we both collapsed into my bed and waited for our “nurse” (Deanna) to doctor Leilani’s cut. I was just glad to lie down and rest. I felt like I’d just been wrung dry by some great pair of hands. I couldn’t believe that I had reacted that way!

Why couldn’t I have been calm? Why did I get so weak in the knees? I’m usually not given to “vapors” at the sight of blood. What happened? Going over it all in my mind, I felt like a failure. Where was the strong, calm, in-control mother that I had envisioned myself to be?

Just as I got snuggled down into my down comforter with Leilani tucked against my shoulder and Mikayla lying next to Leilani, Ralph came in the room. Leilani had insisted on calling him to tell him what had happened. He took a look at the wrapping that Deanna had put on it and declared it a success. He told Leilani that he was proud of her for coming in and getting help like she did and letting her sister fix it up.

Later that evening I broke down and cried. Ralph comforted me and told me that I wasn’t a failure as a mom. God had orchestrated an opportunity for our daughters to shine: for Deanna to help and be the level-headed nurse, for Mikayla to be the comforter and Leilani to be the brave wounded soldier. They were given the opportunity to feel like they were a needed part of something bigger than themselves. They rose to the occasion and helped bring it to a successful conclusion.

I’m still trying to figure out how I’m not a failure and I’m still asking God to show me how to trust Him as my children grow into young men and young women. I am realizing one thing: this thing called Parenting is quite a journey; one in which it seems that destination is not as important as the road we travel.

Psa 18:6 In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.

Psa 22:19 But you, O LORD, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid!

Psa 40:16 - 17 But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who love your salvation say continually, "Great is the LORD!" As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God!

Echoing Anne’s prayer, I add to it: Psa 20:2 May he send you help from the sanctuary and give you support from Zion! May Our Lord continue to help us as we parent our children.