My 15-year-old daughter kept complaining of nausea and stomach pain. My husband said, “she’s just faking it. Don’t waste time or money.” I took her to the hospital in secret. The doctor looked at the scan and whispered, “there’s something inside her…” I could do nothing but scream. — Part 2

Normally I would have dropped the subject to avoid an argument, but this time something inside of me refused to settle. I had seen the way Maya bent forward in pain when she thought no one was watching her and I had seen the tears she wiped away quickly when she thought she was alone.

Something inside my daughter was hurting her deeply and it felt like no one in the world seemed to care except for me. The moment that finally shattered my hesitation came on a Tuesday night when the rest of the house was shrouded in silence.

It was very late and Robert had already gone to bed after a long day at his office while the house was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator. I walked down the hallway to check on Maya and noticed that her bedroom door was slightly open.

Inside the room, everything was dark except for the soft glow of her small desk lamp which cast long shadows across the floor. She was curled up on her bed in a tight ball and at first I truly thought she was fast asleep.

Then I heard the small and broken sound of someone trying their best not to cry out loud in the middle of the night. My heart dropped into my stomach as I whispered her name into the darkness of the room.

She did not answer me at first, so I stepped closer to the bed and saw that her arms were wrapped tightly around her stomach. Her face was pale and damp with tears as she looked up at me with an expression of pure agony.

“Mom,” she whispered weakly when she finally saw me standing there in the shadows. The sound of that single word cracked something deep inside my chest and I felt a wave of maternal protectiveness wash over me.

“It hurts so much,” she said in a voice that was barely audible above the sound of the wind outside. “Please, Mom, you have to make it stop right now.”

I sat beside her immediately and pulled her gently into my arms while noticing how fragile and light her body felt. “How long has the pain been this bad, Maya?” I asked her while stroking her hair.

She shook her head slightly and looked toward the door with fear in her eyes. “Please do not tell Dad about this,” she whispered.

Those words hit me harder than anything else she could have said because they confirmed my fears about the distance between them. I swallowed hard and promised her that I would not say anything to him as she finally relaxed slightly in my arms.

The pain did not leave her face as she drifted into a fitful sleep, and I stayed with her until the early hours of the morning. I did not sleep at all that night because I lay awake in bed beside Robert while staring at the ceiling and making a difficult decision.

By the time the sun began to rise, I knew exactly what I had to do for my daughter. The next afternoon, Robert left for work just like he did every other day of the week.

The moment his car disappeared down the street, I grabbed my keys and went to Maya’s room. “Maya, I need you to get your shoes on right now,” I said gently but firmly.