The Angel woke up this morning, happily, as usual, and our morning ritual began. In the toilet, she was grabbing her left sleeve and holding it down with her fingers.

“Look, mom! Chopped fingers! And I can just rub! ” she exclaimed excitedly while rubbing her legs.

I listened and stared, wide-eyed and exclaimed equally excited, “Yes! Yes! Just rub!”

She then went on to do the same to both hands and told me, again, “Look! Just rub! Rub!”

I requested for her to wait for me while I rushed for the camera. How can I not capture this moment down?

Three nights ago, I was a broken and defeated mother. I had a ‘fight’ with the Angel, I stormed out of the room and needed a mental break from our usual (almost three years) sleeping pattern - reading before bed (enjoyable), talking about anything (enjoyable), then nightmare begins - habitual scratching, broken, bloody, skin, crying, helping her to rub, encouraging, coaxing, angry feelings, broken sleep, same vicious cycle in the middle of the night - not all in the same order, sometimes sleep come easy, but the cycle never fails to return, either at bedtime or middle of the night. It can last between an hour to two to three. My neighbours know what kind of family we are. My heart went out to them but I was equally at my wits’ end.

My friend has been encouraging me to seek help about the Angel’s sleeping habit that is making my motherhood a misery and I had written the following entry in my draft some time ago:

“Probably three months ago, I was still complaining about the number of days I get to sleep in in almost three years (less than ten!!!). Nowadays, the Angel wakes up far later than me (if we have no planned programme, between 9-ish to 11ish sometimes)!

This has never changed before though. It has always been like this. The Angel has almost never slept through except three really gorgeous weeks after a holiday in Rome. We ruined it all by going back to Singapore for a month and since then, I have never had a good time with sleep, before or after, only that three weeks.”

So, my misery was not only interrupted sleep - hers and mine, but it is that ritual of going to sleep that is potentially scary. We call it habitual scratching.

The Angel, as you know, has eczema. The eczema is actually kept at bay (except during flares and allergies) but compounded during sleep, boredom, tiredness or undress. In such situations, her intuition is to scratch. Scratching leads to a vicious cycle, the more you scratch, the more the need to scratch. So, it was thus every night. Sleep was a nightmare for me. Already, I have spent my entire day with her, completing chores, keeping the house and everyone happy, you’d think that the night is a moment of peace or rest or space. I would usually be too worked up to sleep after handling such a child and feeling the pain from all that unnecessary broken skin. I have had all kinds of emotions before, from hugging her and not letting go to walloping her and even breaking my own glasses. For three years, I have not had less than ten nights of such emotionally intensifying nights. I am not keen to end up with two distressed people in my house to handle. I handled this alone, some nights, without much grace.

My friend, G, who has seen the Angel in all her worst situations (habitual scratching to allergic reactions) and saw me handling her and helping me when she could, told me, “One Angel is equal to my two A (her son).” She wasn’t being negative, she really saw, sometimes, the sheer potence when the situation is out of hand.

So, three nights ago, I was completely broken. I was almost at the end of my tenterhooks. I had already threatened to chop the Angel’s fingers off if she continued to live in such a manner. Very often, my ending words, “Chop or control?” Her reply, “Control.”

So, two hours later, I left the room, defeated. What’s the point of fighting? For three years, I have not given up trying, that sheer emotionally intensity, that interrupted sleep, the pain.

After I left the room, she gave up scratching. She came out asking for water. I gave her some and told her, “Go to sleep on your own from tonight onwards!” I saw her to her bed, asked her to cover herself with blanket and silently said, “Goodnight.”

I left her in there to sleep, and bawled out my defeat through msn to my friend, A, who has always been my pillar of strength in my motherhood struggles.

She suggested buying this Special Shirt that will help with the scratching. We tried cover-up-fingers-rompers when the Angel was a baby and it worked but not when she was older and on bandages because by then, she would take the bandages off. The Special Shirt is a good idea but I know that if I fight fire with fire and make her wear that Special Shirt, we will have a frustration issue to deal with.

After that defeated night, I crept into bed in the morning and slept. I brought the Angel out and bought the “Hug” book (now you know why I said we were both in need of a hug).

That night, we had a breakthrough. After the usual reading, she said, “Tonight, I will go to sleep myself.” She remembered what I told her sternly the night before? I abided. I tucked her in and left the room. The alternative dad was sooooo surprised to see me (he slept through the whole episode the night before) and I quickly filled him in on what happened. In between, the Angel came out of the room about four times, to pee, to pee again, to pee yet again (trying very hard but nothing of course!) and finally, for a hug. Then, she was asleep.

That was it.

For the first time in my life, it was a weight off my shoulders. I haven’t felt so relieve in a long, long while (three years is a long while). I haven’t felt that life is so beautiful in a long, long while. I haven’t felt that hope can be so near.

The day after, the nap was the same. Last night, going to sleep was a bit harder than the first night with interruptions and some scratching but manageable ones.

This morning, the Angel mooted the idea of a sewn-up tshirt all on her own! She herself told me that she can rub! The idea of chopped fingers is very sadistic but I know that she has finally understood what I was driving across to her (for years!). And she must have been thinking about how she can help herself to rub. She doesn’t need to have her fingers chopped. She just need to have her fingers protected, out of sight! Thank God for such a revelation to her!

In our excitement (at the very moment she told me her idea), we tried on various tshirts to see if they were long enough to be sewn up at the sleeves. None did and I promised her, we will go out and buy one that can be sewn and I will let her thread the needle while I sew it for her.

Tonight, she had a bit of problem sleeping on her own. In the end, after coming out several times, she told me, “Pat me for a long time then you go out.”

So, I asked her, “Hmmmm….how long is a long time?”

“Pat for a long time. Only when your work is finished, then you go out.”

In her words, the pat wasn’t long, the work was finished quickly and I was out. It’s not only so, my heart is so full of gratitude for the sudden turn of events, for the revelation of the hurt my child is causing to herself and the quality of life that has been affected thus far and how amazingly, my burden is relieved.

I really want to thank those of you who have understood and who have prayed for me. I spoke to Jean and I know she has remembered us in prayer and my friend, A. And for those of you who know of my recurring problems, savour this moment with me. It is a tremendous burden, relieved, and the task of fighting that habitual scratching is now within the realms of possibility. My dreaded nights are gone and my shoulders are no longer tense.

Sleep is sweet and life is made more beautiful.

Categories: The Angel