Second Son (eBook)

My Life as a Mom to a Child with Spina Bifida

Melissa May (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
172 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8362-3 (ISBN)

Infos

Second Son is a glimpse into the life of a family whose third child was born with Spina Bifida. Melissa May shares her story of strength, hope, and determination while raising her family in this remarkable tale told in her words. From their humble beginnings as high school sweethearts, the May's navigate a life full of medical trauma and financial struggles with strength, laughter, and resilience. Learn how the family manages to take on this diagnosis, take care of their children, and thrive during a time of uncertainty.

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Imagine if you will a happy family. A husband, a wife, and two young children. Life is going well. Two careers, two children beautiful children. It all seems so perfect, so they decide to extend their family and await the arrival of their third child. By this time, Melissa and Jesse May think they have it all figured out. One boy. One girl. And one on the way. Then, life takes a turn. During a routine 20-week ultrasound for their third child, the May's learn that their unborn son will be born with Spina Bifida. They are shocked and humbled by this diagnosis, setting into motion a series of events that will forever change their family. From financial struggles to household moves, this family sees it all. And the remarkable way that they navigate their journey is nothing short of a miracle. Learn how they figure it all out - the finances, the diagnoses, the hurt, the trauma. It is all possible while raising their Second Son.

Textauszug

CHAPTER 1
Breaking the News

 

 

 

 

The first time I saw my husband cry was the day my life changed forever. It was March 2005, and I was sitting in a hospital parking garage with my two children in the car. I looked down at my pregnant belly and sobbed. My cell phone was in my hand, yet I had no idea what to do with it. My mind was racing.

I looked over to my left, and there, about ten feet away from the car, was my husband, Jesse. He was on his cell phone, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t know what to do. My heart felt as if it was going to pound out of my chest. I thought I was going to throw up. I was completely helpless in a sea of emotions, and I don’t know how to swim.

My mind wandered. I looked outside the car, hoping this was all a bad dream. I closed my eyes and prayed, hoping when I opened them again, this nightmare would be over.

Slowly, I opened my eyes again, blinking and struggling to see the new world I was living in. This time, tears began to stream down my face and pooled in the corners of my eyes. They dripped to my belly below. I struggled to wipe them away, but they kept coming faster and faster.

I was quite sure that at that moment I expected something different to happen. I didn’t expect to hear the words I just had heard. I didn’t expect to have the feelings I did. My mind wouldn’t stop. It moved from word to word, trying to digest what had just been told to me. I tried to think positively, but nothing positive could come to mind. My world had just been turned upside down, and I was left hanging by my ankles.

I was broken. I pretended I didn’t hear Jesse’s sobs and looked away when he turned his head in my direction. I know he didn’t want me to see him that way—he always tries to protect me. I didn’t want him to see me falling apart; that would only make things worse. And things couldn’t get any worse.

So what brought us to this despair? What was supposed to be a happy occasion, one we would share with our two children, Kaitlin and Jonathan, had been turned into a grim reminder that life can be unbelievably unfair. That just when you think things are perfect, you are shocked to learn life can really be unexpected at times.

I had gone for my routine, twenty-week ultrasound, which should have been just that—routine. Yet the words “spina bifida” were uttered during that visit and kept hanging over my head like a rain cloud that just wouldn’t go away. Again, that feeling of drowning came over me.

I struggled to catch my breath over and over that day. What were the options? Funny how the word “options” came up during that appointment.

“Do you want to terminate the pregnancy?” the doctor asked. No matter what we did, heartbreak would be the result.

What does this mean? We had no idea. I struggled to keep my thoughts under control.

I had heard the words “spina bifida” before, spoken by other people I didn’t know. I had no idea what this would mean for my unborn child, nor what it would hold in store for our family. I just knew how scared I was of these words, which were now part of my vocabulary.

My husband asked the doctor for a break to collect our thoughts. We had the kids to think about.

I sat in that car trying to figure out what our next move would be. I couldn’t help but think of our other two babies in the back seat. They had no idea why Mommy and Daddy were upset, or why we weren’t already home.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jesse came back to the car. He wiped his face, trying to hide the obvious emotion written all over it. He struggled to pretend everything was okay, but it wasn’t. Nothing was okay. Nothing made sense, and nothing would ever be the same again.

As we drove away, I kept hoping the doctors had made a mistake. This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening. Please, God, just let me wake up! I tried closing my eyes over and over again, hoping when they opened, I would be somewhere else. Somewhere far away from the pain occupying every cell in my body.

When we arrived back at a genetic counselor’s office, we began to learn about this diagnosis. How spina bifida occurs, when it occurs, and why. Although we would never learn the “why,” we did learn the “how.”

Spina bifida occurs in the first trimester, often before a woman knows she is pregnant. Imagine the spine as a zipper. Picture that zipper, day by day and week by week, forming and “zipping” itself up. In cases of spina bifida, there comes a point when the zipper doesn’t close. This can occur at any point along the baby’s spine, from the brain to the sacrum. As a result of this birth defect, paralysis can occur, along with brain abnormalities, incontinence, and orthopedic issues, to name just a few.

Standing in that genetic counselor’s office, I scanned the room. It was an ordinary office, complete with a computer, window, and seating for us. Behind the counselor were several medical books. She pulled one off the shelf as she explained how this defect might have occurred.

I stared blankly at the page, pretending to listen to what she was saying. I was choking back tears, trying so hard to compose myself. I could tell on some level she was fascinated by our diagnosis. She said it wasn’t one that she saw very often. She told us she was certainly no expert, self-admittedly, but I was annoyed by her fascination.

I tried to think of at least one question I could ask, but nothing came to mind. Really, all I wanted to know was if our baby was going to be okay. Jesse, on the other hand, was pouring over the book, looking on with the counselor, asking question after question, while I just sat there watching him. How could he be so composed and so strong to even ask one single question? I felt so helpless. In fact, I had never felt so alone in my life.

I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I just wanted to go home. There I at least had familiarity—something that would make sense. I knew where the couch was, where the dining room table and chairs were. I knew how many steps I needed to take to get to the bathroom and then to our bedroom. That was where I would find comfort. That’s what I told myself.

When we got home, things didn’t get any better. The kids kept asking questions. They were so little, too little to understand what was happening. We diverted every question, trying to keep them sheltered from the news.

The hardest part of the whole ordeal was telling our family and friends. It was difficult to find the words without breaking down. No one had any idea what this diagnosis was so, over and over and over again, we were forced to explain what it was. I was so sick of explaining. I didn’t want to have to explain any of this.

Family members assumed the worst. There were no good answers. There were no definitive answers, and there certainly were no easy answers. The doctor’s words, “Termination is an option,” were going over and over in my mind. I couldn’t understand why anyone would do that. I couldn’t imagine even wanting to do that.

Ending the life of one of my children is something I could never do. To me, that was the easy way out, and it wasn’t an option. You never know what you could be missing if you give up too early.

Something deep inside me told me this baby I was carrying would make it—he would walk, he would do all of the things the doctors were telling us he wouldn’t. I kept telling myself repeatedly the baby would be okay.

Somewhere down deep, I had faith. Jesse had faith. But it took a very long time to get that faith and hold onto it. Sometimes it subsided. Sometimes it came in waves, washing over me, comforting me when no number of embraces would. Other times I felt so alone and scared, not knowing what would happen or how to keep moving forward.

We prayed and we hoped for this little baby—another son. We wanted him to have the same opportunities—and body, for that matter—our other two children had. But that simply wasn’t the case. It was more than we could swallow at first, but we had to. We were his parents. We already loved him, despite what the doctors told us would be our reality.

The next day, after the initial shock wore off, Jesse started doing research, reading everything he could on the diagnosis. He created a book of bound material and tried to make himself an expert. Throughout that first day, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at the page after page of material he found. Maybe he felt better having something to guide him through this, but I struggled looking at the images of babies born with this defect.

Appointments were made, doctors were consulted, and tests were scheduled. I was relying on Jesse for his strength, because I literally felt like someone had kicked me square in the gut.

One morning not long after we learned the news, we were lying in bed. My head rested on his chest, which brought me back to seven years earlier when we found out I was pregnant with our daughter, Kaitlin. If there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my relationship with Jesse, it’s that sometimes our timing is off. And sometimes we choose to take the path less traveled.

I met Jesse when I was seventeen years old. He was confident, cocky even. His blond hair framed his face perfectly, highlighting his crystal blue eyes. A mutual friend introduced us, and before we even knew what hit us, our fate was cast. Don’t ask me how, but that night I knew we would be married.

Jesse is the easiest person in the world to love. His enthusiasm and zest for...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 18.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8362-3 / 9798350983623