Moms Know Best: Ben’s mom, Teresa

Soon after my family arrived at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital® to begin my son Ben’s brain cancer treatment, I felt my resolve fading away. I felt like I did not have the strength to help our family through this. I was truly losing it.

A woman noticed my tears, came up to me and hugged me. She put her hands on my shoulders, locked eyes with me and said, “Mom, you can’t fix this one.” 

She was right. As a mom, I want my kids to be healthy and safe. I like to fix things and I’m pretty good at it. But I could not fix this for Ben or for our family.

That was my first aha moment that St. Jude and the people there were different. I knew she understood exactly how I felt. I had to let go and trust God. I also had to trust our St. Jude providers and the process. That was my greatest lesson learned. 

Another pivotal moment was watching Ben begin and complete his freshman year at St. Jude. Despite undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, he excelled academically, earning all As, including AP credits and honors. I still remember watching him take a final test from his hospital bed while he was inpatient for a chemo cycle. His strength and courage inspired so many.

After many long months, we held a No More Chemo party during his last chemo cycle. About 30 St. Jude staff members, many not directly involved in Ben’s care, came to celebrate with us.  

Throughout treatment and especially in that moment, I realized St. Jude had become a beautiful quilt of support for my family. From the beginning to the end, and all the pieces woven in between, the people of St. Jude made this possible for us. It wasn’t just the treatment — it was the mental and emotional support, the hope woven into everything St. Jude does.

Sharing our story with other St. Jude families has become something we do often. We hope our family is an example of getting through this. The journey is long and hard, but, for us, trusting the process and surrounding ourselves with a community who loved us helped us do it.

I used the phrase “right now” a lot throughout Ben’s treatment. Yes, you will lose your hair, right now. No, you won’t be with your friends, right now. You can’t play tennis, right now. I wish we could see our family, but right now, we are exactly where we should be. Right now means it won’t always be this way — but it is for now.

While we are not promised an easy today or tomorrow, we are grateful and hopeful in God’s plan for Ben and our family.  

Ben is healthy and happy, with his smile and laughter back. His twin brother, Will, is laughing again, too. I don’t take it for granted. I find myself soaking in every moment because it can change in an instant. But for right now — we are living in these glorious moments and cherish the opportunity to do so.

Read Ben's story.