No! No! Stop! Ahhhhh don’t!”

We are awoken by the shrill screams of our four-year-old son. Although his monitor sits beside our bed his voice resonates loudly through the ductwork into our third floor bedroom.

The sound of gripping fear in his voice causes my chest to tighten with lost breath as my wife and I scramble, kicking the heavy down blanket that enveloped us to the foot of the bed.

My wife arrives at the top of the stairs first. I follow behind her thumping my clammy bare feet against the cool hardwood floor. Gripping the doorjamb I swing myself into the landing and proceed to descend the staircase on pointed toes.

Part of me knows that my son is physically safe but I am deeply troubled by the sounds that are coming from his bedroom. On many occasions he has talked in his sleep; a byproduct of the racing mind of a three year old, but this is utter terror bellowing from his innocent lips. He is in a dark place.

I arrive in his bedroom. My wife has already switched the lights on and is standing bed side. She removes his sweat soaked blankets and lifts him into her arms.

His pyjamas are saturated from head to toe and hug every contour of his little body. He is shaking and continues to bawl as my wife runs her fingers through his hair.

“Cash! Cash! Buddy wake up!” I scream frantically. Sitting on his bed, I desperately try to get his attention.

He is staring right through me. With wide red-rimmed, dripping eyes he looks at my face but does not see his father. My wife holds Cash tighter to her chest as he thrashes his legs and thrusts his hips.

I continue to call to him, but get the same result. My comfort falls on deaf ears.

Walking Cash around the room in her arms, my wife begs him, “Tell us what’s wrong. Use your words. Please!”

My heart breaks for him.

He shrieks and convulses until his fear subsides.

After fifteen minutes calm is restored instantaneously. My wife and I change his clothes and sheets and tuck Cash back into his bed. He does not say a word, but settles deep into his pillow and drifts off to sleep.

I feel relieved but I am puzzled. What was he going through? Why wouldn’t he wake up? Can I prevent this from happening again?

My wife and I return to our bedroom and apprehensively put our ears to the baby monitor speaker. We do not sleep for the rest of the night, but Cash rests soundly.

In the morning, Cash does not remember the episode he had. He is only confused about how his pajamas changed overnight.

This was the first of several instances where Cash experienced Night Terrors.

Recognizing that he was having night terrors was the first step to our family coping with what he was going through. The primary characteristics that allowed us to differentiate what he was experiencing from typical nightmares were:

It was occurring between 1.5 and 3 hours after he went to sleep (non-REM sleep).

We could not wake him – it is more difficult to rouse someone out of non-REM sleep.

He did not recall the episode.

Cash’s night terrors were more traumatic for us as parents than they were for him. The nature of night terrors and the inability to soothe or comfort is extremely upsetting. I feel for any parent that has to witness their child going through one.

How did we learn to help our son through his night terrors?

We comforted him and protected him from anything that may hurt him if he was thrashing.

Did not try to wake him, but provided a calming atmosphere when he did wake so he could comfortably fall back to sleep.

We learned to be patient and recognized that the night terror would subside.

Sometimes we moved Cash to a room with a cooler temperature to help his body rouse out of deep sleep.

Children can experience one or several nights of night terrors. The cause can be attributed to an over active, maturing mind. Luckily our son’s night terrors have subsided. And although they don’t have an adverse effect on him, I hope they never return.