My Story: Thea

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Thea first learned about sickle cell disease when her son was born.

“I had no idea,” she recalls. “Growing up, that was not anything that we talked about.”

Two years later, following the birth of their daughter, she and her spouse learned that they each carried the sickle cell trait. They also learned the extent of the difficulty their children would endure in terms of physical pain.

Then, just months after their daughter’s birth, Thea’s husband was incarcerated for a serious offense. His absence left her to care alone for their children’s demanding health needs. Thea isolated herself under the stress of worrying for her children and the embarrassment she felt about her husband’s incarceration.

She didn’t know how she would endure so much on her own.

HIDING AWAY

Six years after her husband’s incarceration, Thea filed for divorce. “It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made, but I knew I had to protect my peace and be fully present for my children.”

As her children grew, so did her anxiety during their physical episodes. Their pain worried her greatly. What stressed her even more, however, were the moments of calm—when all was well—waiting for the next time her son or daughter let her know they were in pain.

“I [have to] look out for the signs that things are happening,” she says of her children’s symptoms. “Sometimes, it's so subtle. My daughter usually has more pain than my son. Everything will be okay and then she will say, ‘Momma, I'm hurting just a little bit.’ [But I know] it can escalate from ‘My arm hurts a little bit,’ to ‘Oh, my goodness, I want you to chop my arm off or take me to the hospital.’”

Thea didn’t feel comfortable opening up to others for help because her husband was in prison. Telling someone she needed help meant revealing the truth about his incarceration.

“I think the most stressful part has been when I have to go to the hospital with one of the kids,” Thea says. “I really had been hiding myself away, I wasn't out there. I was in my head. I was kind of withdrawn. I was embarrassed because my husband was in prison at the time.”

Thea and her family of origin were from the Bahamas, but the relatives who had relocated to the U.S. lived in other parts of the country. Thea was on her own, especially following the passing of her mother. When she and her children began attending church, she found support she hadn’t had before.

“Over the years, I have connected with my church,” she shares. “I think I have a pretty good, solid support system. We've been in the hospital so many times. They're like, ‘OK, all right, if you need anything, I'm right here.’ So that has been a good thing. So I don't have to search my brain during crazy times. Because I don't know when [an episode] is going to happen.”

ANGEL TREE SUPPORT

In addition to the physical and stressful discomfort her children experience, not having their father has also affected them emotionally.

Thea has been open with her children about their father’s incarceration. Although her marriage to their father ended, she supports her children’s ongoing connection with him. They call their dad and talk. Although her daughter is now 9 and her son 11, Thea recalls her daughter asking her father one time on the phone, “Dad, how much money would it take for you to get out?” in the hopes that she could save enough coins to have him released.

When she and the children traveled recently on a mission trip with their church’s pastor and his family, Thea noticed her son seemed down.

“My son got to see that dad in action,” she recalls. “He would talk to him, and he was like, ‘I want a dad. I want a new dad.’”

Thea signed up her son for a community mentoring program as a result. Their father, in the meantime, signed his children up for Prison Fellowship® Angel Tree. They received a Christmas gift in his name, provided by a local church. They also received an invitation to attend Angel Tree camping with other children from families impacted by incarceration.

“They loved the camp, and they were like, ‘Can we go back next year?” she says. “They’re enjoying it, and I love that they have the independence. I always want them to be advocates for themselves and they only can do so when they are doing stuff on their own.”

Thea communicated with the camp before the children went and was relieved by the reassurance the camp gave her that their counselors were trained for medical emergencies and that she would be contacted in case of any issues.

“I let them go with love, and they had such a great time,” she adds. “The first thing they said when they came off the bus was, ‘You see that girl? She gave her life to Christ and she's going to get baptized.’”

They also told Thea about the games they’d played, the food they’d eaten, the prayer times, and all the friends they’d made.

“I know my daughter made friends with one of the campers and she said, ‘Mommy, I can't wait. Am I going to go there next time?’”

JOY IN THE JOURNEY

“I liken my motherhood journey and this difficult journey mostly to my faith, because I get to see how much God loves us through my children,” she says.

And Thea has learned a great deal about herself—and about God’s desire for her wellbeing—in the process. She had thought at one time that if she isolated herself, she and her children would get through on their own somehow.

“I wanted to hide away because I didn't want anybody to know,” she recalls. “But [people at church] were like, ‘We love you anyway.’ It took me a while to get there. It really did. I love the church that I go to because we have a lot of ministries that help people.”

Thea received mentorship from another believer through her church’s Titus Two ministry, in which one woman who is mature in her faith comes alongside another who may be newer to faith.

“That has been good,” she says. “I've been in that program, and I've gotten mentored several times.”

And recently, Thea was chosen to be a mentor.

“I remember thinking, ‘Who me?’ I've had an opportunity to pour into two young ladies who were going through some stuff.”

Thea has enjoyed journaling and is now in the process of writing a book about her journey.

“I'm liking myself a little bit more now because I'm more vulnerable than I was before,” she admits. “Because like I said before, I hid everything. I didn't want anyone to know. It was really, really hard. But it's gotten easier. I have a little bit more of a village and I can breathe a little bit better.”