As a parent of young children, I have learned to cope with fairly interrupted sleep. If it’s my daughter getting tangled up in her blankets or my son needing to go to the bathroom at 2 a.m., I’ve grown accustomed to moving from a deep sleep to wide awake in a matter of moments. I’m not a great night-owl, though….when I’m up with my kids, my primary thought is “how can I settle this issue as quickly as possible to get back to sleep?” My kids are pretty good sleepers in that once their issues are addressed, they generally go back to bed quickly and without a problem.
Until now.
My little Bryson has had a few nights now of what are generally known as “night terrors.” They are not nightmares, where the kids may be upset but can be comforted one they wake. During these events, the children aren’t actually awake, but screaming and crying in their sleep. Apparently it happens to about 30% of children between the ages of 3 and 6. They look and act “awake” – eyes open, crying and upset – but the brain is still functionally sleeping.
This has only happened to Bryson three times in the last year, so it is far from becoming a pattern – a reality I’m grateful for. But when it has happened, it is dreadful….watching his little body toss and turn and cry without being able to comfort him. We’ve tried virtually all tricks in the book to help him “wake up,”short of putting him in a cold shower (a case where it seems like the cure may be worse than the disease). Words, hugs and kisses don’t help – his beloved stuffed animals have no impact – soft music, gentle touch or turning on the lights only agitate him more.
Last night, I climbed in bed with him as he cried and shrieked, eyes open but clearly not seeing. I laid down with him quietly and stayed there without saying anything, my hand barely touching him. Amazingly, after a few minutes, he started to quiet down and curled his little body up next to me. As he cozied in, I whispered “It’s ok, honey.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, his whole body tensed up and we were off again! Finally he calmed down enough to curl up again, my hand just barely touching him, and he slept peacefully the rest of the night.
Our desire to “do something” so strong. To do something, to say something, to offer something to someone who is having a hard time or is in pain. Sometimes, those offers of help are just what people need and are, in fact, amazingly helpful. But sometimes – every once and a while, as Bryson taught me last night – it is best to just be there.
Here’s to a better night tonight!







