Mental Health: Grace and Nate's Story

Children’s Mercy is committed to caring for every aspect of children’s health — physical, mental, emotional and behavioral.  

As we continue to shed light on the importance of mental health care and suicide prevention in our community and across the nation, we’d like to share Grace’s story about her 13-year-old son Nate’s experience with Children’s Mercy when he was in dark space, mentally. Names have been changed to protect their privacy. 

“Mom, I think we need to go to the hospital. I feel like I want to die.” 

As a parent, those are definitely not words you ever want to hear from your 13-year-old child. I wish I could say this was our first rodeo, but the first time I remember Nate expressing suicidal thoughts, he was just 7 years old. Over the years, my husband and I have worked tirelessly to find therapists, medications and parenting approaches to help him see himself the way we do: intelligent, creative, quick with a joke and a never-ending fountain of video-game knowledge. 

However, I knew at this point, Nate needed more help than we could give him at home. We wanted to take him somewhere where we could get both a medical and psychological evaluation from a place that truly understands kids and teens. Based on our past experiences at Children’s Mercy, there was no doubt in my mind that we should head to the Emergency Room there.  

So I took a breath, said, “OK bud, let’s get ready to go,” and started tossing things in a bag for a quick departure for Children’s Mercy. 

Overwhelmed

Earlier that week, Nate had started having panic attacks every evening, seemingly out of the blue. As the week went on, the panic attacks became more frequent, until he felt like he was constantly in a state of extreme anxiety. Mental health struggles were not new to us — Nate is autistic, highly intelligent, and also has OCD and anxiety diagnoses — but after finding a good combination of medications and therapy, he had been doing well for almost a year. But if you’ve dealt with mental health struggles yourself or with a loved one, you know that sometimes you can be cruising along and the wheels just fall off, leaving you stuck and in sudden need of extra help. 

When we arrived at Children’s Mercy, my husband parked the car while Nate and I went through security. One of the comfort items Nate brought with him was “Snakey Jordan,” a stuffed snake he won as an arcade prize, and he had it over his shoulders as we walked through the door. The security guard jokingly asked, “Did you come here to get that snake removed?” While none of us had arrived in a laughing mood, that managed to make us smile a little as we headed inside. 

Nate’s three choices

Once we got checked in and taken back to a room, a kind nurse helped Nate get changed and decide on which of his comfort items he could safely keep with him. She listened carefully and made notes as Nate shared what had been going on and why we had come to the hospital that night. He told the nurse, “The way I see it, I had three options: wait for the panic attack to stop (which it wasn’t), kill myself (which my parents won’t let me), or come get some medical help (which is why we’re here).” The nurse affirmed how courageous he was to ask for help. 

When the nurse left the room, there was always someone in the hallway right outside our door to keep an eye on Nate and make sure he was staying safe. Even though both his dad and I were there with him, I felt like I could finally take a breath, knowing that we were in a place where he couldn’t hurt himself, and we could get help figuring out what was going on and what the next steps might be. 

Over the course of the next few hours, we were seen by a resident and their attending doctor, who examined Nate carefully to rule out any physical causes of some of his symptoms (racing heartbeat, shortness of breath, GI issues, etc.). While my husband and I provided occasional input, the doctors spoke directly to Nate and engaged him in conversation about his stuffed animals and other interests as they checked him over. As we had suspected, his physical symptoms were triggered by his anxiety and panic attacks, so we could move forward with treatment knowing that getting his brain chemistry and mood back in balance was our main goal. 

Figuring out what’s next

Based on the sounds of distressed kids coming from other rooms in our hallways, I guessed that we were not the only family in the ER that night with a child in a mental health crisis. Thinking about those families helped me to be patient as we waited for Nate's acute mental health assessment from a social worker. We’d been able to get Nate’s regular nightly medications from the hospital pharmacy, and between that and the adrenaline crash that followed his earlier extreme anxiety, he fell asleep.  

Next, my husband and I spoke with a social worker. She introduced herself, explained her role, and together, we went over everything Nate had been experiencing. She asked thoughtful questions and ultimately shared a few options for next steps in Nate’s care. After discussing the options, we all agreed that an intensive outpatient program — group therapy that meets in the evenings so the participants can still attend school or work — would be the best fit for Nate right now. The social worker then talked to Nate, and he also agreed to that plan. 

Nate’s suicidal thoughts were of course a huge concern to all of us. As we worked through things with his care team, Nate expressed that once we had a plan to help him address the intense anxiety and panic attacks, he felt safe to go home and move forward with getting extra support from his current psychiatrist and therapist and the intensive outpatient program.  

As we headed out of the hospital, I felt relieved to have some answers and action steps from the social worker and medical team at Children’s Mercy. In the morning, there would be more phone calls, paperwork and follow-ups, but at least there was a chance we’d all get some sleep that night. 

Home again

When we arrived back home, my husband took Nate up to get him settled in bed. I was pretty exhausted by that point, but I can remember hugging my parents, who were at our house taking care of our younger child, and repeating, “He’s ok. He’s ok.”  

I think that’s one of the most difficult parts of parenting a child with significant mental health challenges: you can’t just make it better for them with a band-aid and a kiss. Sure, there are treatments available, like medication and therapy, but the brain is such a complex thing. There’s a lot of trial and error involved in finding what’s ultimately going to be helpful for your child and their needs — which might easily change as they grow.  

Weeks after our Children’s Mercy visit: From “what if?” to “and yet...”

In the weeks following our Children’s Mercy visit, Nate showed signs of improvement based on the recommendations from the Children’s Mercy team. The adjustments to his medications and intensive therapy program seemed to be moving him in the right direction. However, as a mom, I was continually haunted by the thoughts of the “what ifs”. What if he hadn’t come to me and told me what was going on? What if he couldn’t see another option besides ending his life and got stuck in that mindset of despair? What if he had applied his extraordinary creativity to finding ways to hurt himself that we hadn’t thought to prevent?  

Yes, he could have done those things … and yet, he didn’t. He trusted us to care for him. With the help of our community — including Children’s Mercy and our family mental health providers — he is working through this challenging time. And for right now, that’s enough. 

If you or your child are having suicidal thoughts, call or text 988 or go to your nearest emergency room for help. You can find out more about what to expect at the Children’s Mercy emergency room here.

Children’s Mercy offers extra support for children and teens with developmental, psychiatric or psychological concerns. For more information, see our Mental Health Toolkit for parents and caregivers or learn more about our plan to expand access to mental health resources for families.