Help from a Song

It took one day in mid-October to change my life. My infant son was admitted to the hosptial after having two seizures at home. After three days of scans, questions, and crying, we were given a diagnosis, Tuberous Sclerosis Complex. We left the hospital in shock. We had never heard of this disease and now it threatened our son’s life.

Nothing made sense as we drove home from the hosptial that night. As I sat next to him, I held his tiny hand and studied his perfect face. It was only three months ago when we brought this precious life into the world and we had so many dreams for him. No one could tell us how this would effect his life and we were told he could be disabled. I was heartbroken as I realized the future was uncertain at best. There was no more dreaming of tomorrow as we were uncertain of today.

As time progressed, so did his disease. He developed a catastrophic form of epilepsy, he began to exhibit behavioral issues, and efforts to control the effects of the disease kept failing. I became more depressed despite my deep faith that teaches purpose in suffering. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. I yearned for the days with my baby when I could still imagine him free of his disease and I could hope that he would fulfill a normal life.

We reached our emotional bottom after five years of sleepless nights and uncontrolled epilepsy. His medical team wanted to discuss the next step in gaining control over his seizure activity. It was in that room amongst the discussion of neurosurgery that helped change my perspective. I didn’t see the young boy who was hitting, screaming and injuring himself out of frustration or pain, I saw my baby. I saw him as small and innocent as the day I held his hand on the way back to the hospital and my heart broke all over again. How could this be happening? I tried to sort out the last six years of ups and downs and continual failures. Fortunately we were given the option of starting a new medication and avoiding neurosurgery. We once again left the hosptial with mounting uncertainty.

Shortly after that visit, the song, “Can We Start Again Please” from Jesus Christ Superstar popped into my head. It persistently played in my head so I scrambled to find the song online. When I heard it, I wept. I recounted six years of failures. I recounted everything from medication to my own failure as his mother. It knew this song was God’s way of telling me that it’s okay to start again. It was okay to fail because the question could always be asked, “Can we start again please?” Shortly after, I rocked him in my arms while listening to that song and I softly sang it in his ear. I then asked for his forgiveness for my own failures. I knew the frustration with his disease had also gotten the best of me. When the difficult days get the best of me, I ask to start again. Sometimes several times a day if necessary. I just keep trying. A simple song reminded me that there is always a time to start again.

*d*