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Letting Go, Loving Forever

“You don’t get it, Mom. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be alive.”

Those words my child said to me were the wake-up call I needed. Lilo was refusing treatment and had no intention of returning to the hospital. They had no interest in group therapy and planned to spend the entire summer doing as they wished. It was with a huge lump in my throat and conflicting thoughts racing through my mind that I called our local police department and made arrangements for officers to come to our home and escort Lilo to the hospital. I asked them to arrive with no sirens, as I did not want Lilo to hear them and run.

This was the first time I had to have my child escorted to mental health services; however, it would not be the last. After this incident, Lilo cycled through in-patient care and a 6-week residential program. At the start of their sophomore year of high school, they self-harmed at school and had to be hospitalized once more. As their mental health struggles worsened, I knew that I could no longer ensure Lilo’s safety while living at home.

Lilo and I had discussed that if a residential placement was ever necessary, we could research and choose together. But at this moment, I knew that I had to choose quickly and take the initiative for their health plan, and I found a residential treatment program that stood out head and shoulders above the others. While this facility was well-regarded at the time, I wasn’t the type of parent who haphazardly sent my child just anywhere. I wanted to be sure that Lilo would receive the care they needed. So I researched; I talked to the directors and interviewed other parents who sang their praises. I vetted the facility. A lot.

To get Lilo there, I hired a service to pick up Lilo and transport them states away to the treatment center. I have always been grateful for Lilo’s behavior and demeanor that night. It was bad enough having strangers in my house to cart my child off into the night, but I was beyond relieved that these strangers would not be dragging them against their will. Lilo was not angry. My daughter Brooke woke up, and Lilo hugged and continued to tell us how much they loved us. I tried my best to remain calm, but to say I was distraught underneath the veneer of a parent in complete control would be an understatement.

After they left, this facade broke. Tears streamed down my face. Exasperated, I said to Brooke, “Your dad and I didn’t adopt Lilo so that I would give them away again.” As the car drove off into the distance, Brooke looked at me and said something in response that I will never forget. “Mom, we’re not giving them up. We’re letting them go, so we can love them forever.”

Planning for an emergency situation is challenging. As prepared as you think you may be, circumstances rarely pan out in a way you can control. Instead, you are forced to think and act in the moment. Being in the middle of an emergency is so much different than planning for one, but the one thing I knew was that I could not wait to help Lilo – I had to act.  

I know I didn’t make the “perfect” choice, but there rarely is one. When making a decision for your child, allow yourself grace in planning. Understand that as a parent, you are making the best choice you can at that moment with the resources and research at your disposal. Caring for a child struggling with mental health challenges and suicidal thoughts is complicated. In hindsight, the tactics that were most helpful to me were to: 

  • Research each program in-depth
  • Interview the directors at the facilities I was considering 
  • Ask for open and honest feedback from other parents who have sent their child(ren) to the facility 
  • Ask specific questions about the treatment plan and therapy tactics that the facility uses

This decision was beyond difficult, but I also know that if I hadn’t chosen to send Lilo away, they might not be alive today. 

Other parents in this situation may make alternative plans for their child, and I didn’t let Lilo go lightly. However, I now know the result of my decision: Lilo is here with us, they are healthy and our relationship is stronger. But I will never forget what Brooke said. We’re letting them go, so we can love them forever. This phrase helped me understand and accept what Lilo needed. We chose to live by these words – it has become our family mantra and the title of our book, which is coming out in September 2023 and tells our story in more depth.

Parenting means making hard decisions that have lasting impacts, but these choices come from a place of love. If you are a parent struggling with your child’s challenging behaviors and talking to them about their mental health, check out these resources: 

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