Family Wellness: Harper's Story
On one frosty January night, four-year-old Harper nestled into bed, feeling the gentle weight of her mother’s hand smoothing her hair. Goals, dreams, and the promise of a bright new year shimmered in the air, a hopeful warmth against winter’s chill. But early in the dawn, Harper was stirred awake by a burning smell, finding herself surrounded by smoke. Without warning, an electric fire sparked, causing the house to become engulfed in flames. When first responders arrived, Harper was rescued completely unharmed. Her mother, however, was critically injured, and her condition required an indefinite hospital stay to save her life.
In the wake of the tragedy, the once joyful little girl was faced with unexpected transitions. She moved into her grandparents’ home, still feeling a persistent anxiety. “I’m scared to go to sleep,” Harper would cry as they tucked her in at night, sometimes only to wake up hours later screaming from nightmares. Everyday occurrences like the sound of ambulances and the sight of fire left her trembling. She became fearful of doctors and hospital settings after visiting her mother in the intensive care unit. She would bring up the concept of death to Grandma and Grandpa all the time. Harper’s doctor diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and knew exactly where to refer her: Savio’s program for children five years old and younger who have faced adverse experiences.
Harper’s grandparents worked actively with Savio’s team. Harper began to make slow progress, but there was another challenge ahead: her mom was coming home.
The time apart had left Harper feeling as if her mother was a stranger. Now, with her mother’s medically fragile condition, the spontaneous, loving tackles she would give her mom were gone. One day, during a session with their Savio therapist, Harper’s mother hesitated. “I don’t know if she sees me as her mom anymore.” The therapist nodded. “Healing together will help you both.”
Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa were introduced to a technique called “the circle of security” that allowed them to tune into Harper’s cues for help and what she needed most in each moment. Did she need to share and discuss her feelings? Did she need a hug and secure reassurance that everything was alright? Harper also learned to process her scary experiences through the power of play therapy. Through toy dolls and houses as well as a mini ambulance, they acted out the memories of the fire to help Harper see the heroes and how strong she and her mother were. Their therapist would use a play doctor bag with Mom and Harper so that Harper could see that medical professionals were safe people that helped her mom feel better. Sometimes, Harper would still get startled at the sound of an ambulance and would be in search of soothing. She and her mom would practice “hot chocolate breath”, where they would pretend to cool off and take in the aroma of a yummy mug of imaginary hot chocolate to steady her inhales and exhales.
During a session, Harper asked her mom for assistance, and her mom exchanged a smile with the therapist. Harper started to see her mom as the same loving, capable parent she turned to before the fire and learned how to give gentle hugs whenever she wanted to show how much she loved her.
Almost one year from the fire, Harper and her mom were ready to finish their time with Savio. And then one December night after their last session, a fresh snow dusted the windowpanes, Harper lay in bed, warm beneath the blankets. Her mother kissed her forehead.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
Harper’s eyelids fluttered. “Good night, Mommy.”
And for the first time in a long time, she closed her eyes without fear.