My son grew a brain: Part 2

Car ride of clarity and confusion

I sat there in the car for who knows how many minutes, just staring and remembering to breathe. My mind hurt from the inability to process what just happened.

My baby doesn’t have a brain. It will not survive. A doctor wants me to kill it and “think about my child who will actually live.”

Reality swooped in. That’s right! I have a 1 year old little guy and I have to go pick him up right now. Find the keys, Natalie. Start driving, Natalie.

As I was searching for my keys, I found my cell phone. Jeremy! I have to tell my husband! I called, no answer. Called again, no answer.

Start driving, Natalie. Start the car, Natalie

As I began to drive I continued to try Jeremy at work but, when I couldn’t reach him, I tried the next person on my missed call list which was my friend, Sadie.

She answered very quickly and I said something like “My baby is going to die.”

With no back story and without even knowing I was at a doctor appointment, all she could say in return was, “What?”

And then the tears came. Gut-wrenching sobs as I confessed out loud with my own voice “The doctor… baby has no brain….he’s going to die.”

Sadie quickly was up to speed on the severity of this situation and my state of mind and asked “Are you driving?”

“Yes, I have to go get Quin. My child that is going to live”

Sadie encouraged me to pull over, but, I mumbled something about calling her later and hung up. As my car bounced over the train tracks, tears poured down my cheeks. I put on the wipers, not able to see through the rain, only to realize there was nothing that was going to wipe away the new way I saw the world.

I got to the place where my little guy, Quin, was playing with friends and cousins. My sister-in-law, Rochelle, had brought him to a play date. There, Quin was surrounded cousins, friends, and women who weren’t carrying a baby with a death sentence. I realized I would have to walk in and tell the story seeing as my mascara was all over my face….and this time I should probably tell it without making my 1 year old freak out about Mommy’s broken emotional state.

There I was sitting in my car again, dreading going into the house. That’s when I realized that every time I told this story, I was proclaiming to the world that I was not fit to make a human being. I did something so terribly wrong and because of that, a baby will die. My baby will die.

Get out of the car, Natalie.


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