Fix
"I wonder how long it's gonna be until these stupid stretch marks go away," Sam said, examining her swollen abdomen in the mirror of her and Freddie's bedroom. "Am I ever gonna be able to wear a bikini again?"
"I'm sure once the baby's born, you'll have no trouble getting your body back," Freddie assured her, looking up from the book he had been flipping through in bed. "And if not, I'll still love you even if you're covered in stretch marks."
"Gee, thanks," Sam smirked, walking across the room and climbing into bed next to her husband. She rested her hands on her stomach. "Only three more months until we meet this kid. I can't wait."
"Neither can I," Freddie smiled, leaning over and kissing her. "We're going to be parents."
"Crazy," Sam chuckled. "Oh! The baby's kicking!"
Freddie quickly put his hands on her stomach too, feeling the gentle kicks of his unborn child.
"Kid's getting real rambunctious in there," Sam commented. "You know, I heard on T.V. today that there's things you can do to get the baby to be active during the day time and calm at night so that it's on a pretty normal schedule once it's born. I'll have to ask the doctor about that at my ultrasound tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Freddie frowned. "I thought the appointment was on Friday."
"Oh, right, I meant to tell you," Sam said. "The doctor's office called today and they had to bump me up because Dr. Meller is going out of town to a conference Friday and they'll be closed. So the appointment's tomorrow at one."
"Aw man," Freddie moaned. "Sam, I-I have a huge meeting at work tomorrow."
"You do?"
"Yeah," Freddie sighed. "But, well, maybe I can try to get out of it. I can tell my boss that-"
"Nah, don't worry about it," Sam said. "It's just one appointment. I can go by myself. You go to your meeting."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'll just update you when you get home," Sam said. "It's not a big deal."
"Well, alright," Freddie nodded. "Just know if I had a choice there's no way I'd be missing out on this."
"I know," Sam smiled, settling underneath her covers. "Anyway, I'm beat. I'm gonna get some sleep. Well, maybe…if this kid ever stops kicking my kidneys."
…
"Hello there, Sam," Dr. Meller smiled as he walked into the ultrasound room the next day. Sam was already lying on the examination table next to the machine.
"Hey," Sam replied.
"By yourself today?" the doctor asked.
"Yeah, Freddie had a meeting at work," Sam nodded. "So I'll just tell him everything when I get home. Oh, he wants to know if you can print out some of the ultrasound pictures for him since he's missing this."
"Of course," the doctor said, turning on the ultrasound machine. "Now, today we're just going to do a routine check-up to make sure the baby's development is on track."
"Sounds good," Sam said.
"How have you been feeling since your last appointment?" the doctor asked, fiddling with the machine. "Morning sickness still there?"
"Yup," Sam sighed. "I thought most women just get it at the beginning. I'm in my third trimester; shouldn't I be done?"
"Well, unfortunately some women do experience it until the end," the doctor explained. "You might be a part of that unlucky crowd."
"Yay," Sam said dryly. She looked at the ultrasound screen, where the image of her unborn child now was. She smiled. "Wow…it looks even more like a baby now. I can see a little hand and everything."
"Yes, here's the baby's leg, and if you look closely, you can see the baby's foot as well," the doctor nodded. "Now, last time I know you said you didn't want to know the sex, but if you've changed your mind I can tell you."
"No, me and Freddie still want it to be a surprise," Sam said.
"Alright," the doctor nodded. He went back to examining the image on the screen, slowing moving the ultrasound monitor over Sam's stomach. "And here is the baby's head," he continued. "And…hmm…."
"What?" Sam asked.
The doctor didn't respond as he studied the screen intently.
"What is it?" Sam asked again, starting to feel a bit nervous. "Everything's okay, right?"
"The skull formation appears to be a little abnormal," the doctor mumbled, still in deep concentration.
"Well what's that mean?" Sam frowned. "Is-Is the baby just gonna have a big head or something?"
"Normally when there's abnormal skull formation, it is an indicator of a congenital brain deficit," the doctor said heavily.
Sam's eyes widened. "Are-Are you serious?"
"Now, I don't want you to worry about anything just quite yet," the doctor said quickly. "This ultrasound is fuzzy. I could be mistaken. This is not how these brain deficits are diagnosed. However I would like to properly assess this issue right now. Is that okay?"
"I-yes, Sam nodded. "Yeah, do whatever."
"I'll be back in a moment," the doctor said gently, turning to exit the room.
Sam let out a long breath as she stared over at the screen again, where the image of her child still was.
This can't be happening, Sam thought to herself, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. All throughout her pregnancy, something like this had never even crossed her mind.
She felt scared and confused and anxious.
More than anything, though, she wished that Freddie was with her.
Sam wiped her eye on the sleeve of her shirt and tried to imagine what Freddie might say to her if he was here.
It will be alright, Sam told herself. Everything will be alright.
Yet somehow it was far less convincing coming from her.
…..
Several hours later, Sam sat in her car in the parking lot of the doctor's office. All afternoon they had run tests on her and the baby and, despite her best efforts to remain optimistic during all of it, the results she had dreaded had come in.
Her and Freddie's baby had a congenital brain deficit.
The doctor had given her a very lengthy explanation on what this would mean, but Sam could barely listen. All that she knew was that her and Freddie's ideas of raising their child were about to be rattled.
Their child wouldn't have a typical life, would it? Freddie had been so excited about teaching their child how to ride a bike, but that seemed to be out of the picture now. And Sam had been looking forward to teaching her son or daughter how to throw their first punch, but that probably wouldn't be happening now either.
Sam looked down at her stomach and gently put her hand on the large swell. "I still love you," she whispered. "Just as much as I always have."
But she just wished she was able to help the child more. From what the doctor had told her, there was no cure for this.
She slowly picked up her cellphone and saw that she had several missed calls from Freddie. She had promised to call him as soon as she got out of the appointment, which should've ended hours ago if it hadn't been for all the additional testing.
She dialed her husband's number and pressed the phone to her ear.
"Hey," Freddie said at once, answering on the first ring. "How'd it go today? I called you earlier, but I'm guessing you just got caught up in work when you got back to the office. So did you talk to the doctor about your morning sickness and trying to get the baby on a schedule and-"
"How much longer do you think you have to be at work?" Sam asked softly.
"Huh? I-I dunno, I was planning on leaving in another hour," Freddie replied. "I'm just finishing up some stuff. Why?"
"Can-Can you meet me at home?" Sam asked him. "We-We need to talk. There's something…We just need to talk."
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
…
"I-I don't understand," Freddie said shakily as he paced back and forth in the couple's living room. "There-There has to be some mistake. Maybe the doctor was wrong."
"They ran all these tests…" Sam said softly. "And they're super accurate, like ninety-nine percent."
"Well maybe we're in the one percent that's wrong," Freddie said.
"Freddie…" Sam sighed.
"I-I just can't believe this," Freddie mumbled. "How-How could-brain damage?"
"They said there was some problem with the skull forming," Sam told him.
"How-How bad is it?" Freddie asked, sitting down and burying his head in his hands.
"They said it-it'd be pretty severe," Sam whispered. "As in…the-the baby, it-it'd never be able to do anything for itself when it got older. It'd always have to be taken care of."
Freddie didn't reply.
"They gave me all these pamphlets," Sam continued, nodding to the papers on the coffee table. It seemed a bit ridiculous to expect a couple of pamphlets to have all the answers for what they were now faced with, though. "And-And they made us an appointment with this counselor next week. To go over options…"
Freddie sighed and got to his feet again.
"I just, I never pictured this," Sam went on. "I-What are we going to do?"
Freddie turned to her. "Well…I guess…I guess this is just how it's going to be."
Sam stared at him.
"We-We've been so excited to have this baby from the beginning," Freddie said. "And-And even though things are going to be different, we-we're still going to be parents, right?"
"Right," Sam said softly.
"And we're still going to love this baby," Freddie continued. "Right?"
"Of-Of course," Sam nodded. "But-"
"It's just going to be…different for us now," Freddie said, sitting down next to her, putting an arm around her. Sam could see that the corners of his eyes were wet. "But-But we can get through this."
Sam was silent.
"There-There's no use in us sulking over this," Freddie said finally. "That's not going to change anything. There-There's nothing we can do to change this. But…What we can do is make sure that we're able to give our child the best life possible."
"How?" Sam said weakly. "What can we do?"
"We'll learn everything we can about the condition," Freddie said. "And we'll start researching special education programs right away. We'll find other parents who are in our same situation and get advice, we'll read all the books, we'll talk to all the experts. We'll do everything."
He reached for Sam's hand and squeezed it. "It's going to be difficult," he said. "But…this is our baby, Sam. No matter what."
Sam wiped her eyes and gave him a small smile. "No matter what."
…
And so for the next two months, every second of Sam and Freddie's time became devoted to learning how to care for their child. The day after Sam told him the news, Freddie had gone out and purchased a huge stack of books. Sam was on the phone with every occupational therapist and psychologist in Seattle, figuring out what programs they could start they baby in as soon as possible.
The more Sam looked into everything, though, the more it dawned on her just what her and Freddie were going to be in for.
"So, a lot of parents really recommend speech therapy at around eighteen months," Freddie said late one night as the couple sat up in the living room. "Of course that really depends on how profound the condition is…"
Sam didn't reply.
"But I did get the number of a good physical therapist," Freddie said. "To help the gross motor skills develop. We can start fairly early too."
Again, Sam was silent.
"You alright, baby?" Freddie asked, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. "You worn out from the doctor's visit?"
That afternoon Sam and Freddie had gone to the hospital where Sam would be giving birth. Because of the baby's detected complication, Sam's doctor had now given her a fixed delivery date. In three weeks she'd report back there, the doctors would induce labor on her, and they would deliver the baby. Then they would run even more tests on the newborn to determine the full extent of the brain damage.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam mumble, tossing the book down onto the coffee table. "I think I'll just go to bed. You coming up?"
"Nah, not right now, I want to watch this documentary I found online," Freddie said. "It talks about teaching socialization skills, which is really important. You should watch it too actually…alright, I'll save that one for us to watch tomorrow and I'll just-"
"What are we doing?" Sam blurted out.
"What do you mean?" Freddie frowned.
"I mean…what's the point of all this?" Sam said heavily. "All these books and therapists and everything?"
"The point?" Freddie repeated. "Uh, the point is to give our son or daughter the best life possible."
"But can we do that?" Sam asked. "Even with everything we're doing, are-are we still going to be able to give this kid everything it needs? I-I was already starting to freak out about being able to handle being a mother before all of this happened. And now, I-I don't even know if I can! I was never going to be one of those super mom's in the first place, and now I-I'm just going to be even worse because there's so much more stuff for me to get wrong. I couldn't even carry this baby without messing it up!"
"Sam, stop!" Freddie said firmly. "You didn't do anything to this baby! What happened was just…it just happened. It wasn't your fault! And as for your parenting skills…you're going to an amazing mother! I know it. I can already tell how much you love this baby. And I know how determined you are too…you'll fight for this baby. I-I know this is all overwhelming; I'm scared too. I'm scared that I won't be able to do all of this. I'm scared that even with everything I'm doing that I still won't be able to give my child all he or she needs. But…But this is happening, Sam. We-We've just got be confident that we'll be able to do this. The two of us together, well, we've always been a pretty amazing team…"
Sam looked down at her abdomen, gently tracing circles along the swell.
"That's not all that's bothering you, is it?" Freddie asked knowingly.
"No," Sam said, her voice now so soft that Freddie could barely hear her. She had tears streaming down her face. She looked back up at her husband. "You're right. I love this baby, and I will do anything for it, but…God, I-I know you've read it in all those books you've got. I've seen it splashed all over every support group web page or blog I go on."
Freddie let out a long breath. "You mean…"
"They say that babies born with these brain injuries, like-like they say ours has, they-they don't live that long," Sam said shakily. "Depending on how severe the condition is, they-they may not even make it to their fourth birthday."
Freddie quickly grabbed a tissue and reached over and wiped the tears off his wife's cheeks.
"That's what scares me the most," Sam cried. "That-That we can do all of this and-and our baby will still-will still-"
"I know," Freddie said, his own voice cracking. "I know, that-that terrifies me. I-I can't even imagine losing a child. But…But we can't dwell on what might happen. Once the baby is born, the doctors can tell us more about-about what to expect and how serious the brain damage is. But until then, it-it's not fair to worry about the worse case scenario instead of preparing to give this baby the best life we can."
Sam wiped her eyes. "You-You're right. Worrying about-well…worrying isn't going to help this baby any."
"This is going to be the hardest thing we've ever had to do," Freddie said softly. "But it's also going to be the best thing we've ever done."
…
"They said they should be ready to start the delivery in about another ten minutes," Freddie said three weeks later as he sat at Sam's bedside.
"Okay," Sam mumbled, drowsy from the medication that she had been given earlier.
"You alright?"
"I'm nervous," Sam replied.
"I'm going to be with you the whole time," Freddie promised, giving her a quick kiss on her temple. "And hey, remember, at the end of all this, we'll finally get to meet our son or daughter."
"I know," Sam said, giving him a small smile.
"Alright, Sam?" Dr. Meller said, coming over to Sam, wearing his hospital scrubs and face mask. "I want to explain what is going to happen one last time. In a few moments we're going to start the birthing process. For the C-section, we're going to make a cut directly above your pelvis. Don't worry; you won't feel a thing. After that we're going to try to move as quickly as possible in order to minimize potential threats to you and the baby. Now, once the umbilical cord is cut, the baby will need to be cleaned up and brought into the neonatal unit immediately in order to determine if any further damage was done during the birth-"
"You mean I won't even get to hold my baby?" Sam frowned.
The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "We can allow you to hold the baby for a brief moment, but after that it is imperative that we bring the child in for assessment."
Sam nodded. "Alright," she said simply.
More doctors and nurses began to file into the room, and one of the nurses brought over a large, blue screen and placed it right above Sam's chest, shielding her eyes from what was about to happen.
"We're ready to begin," Dr. Meller announced.
"You're going to be great, baby," Freddie said, pulling on his own medical mask that he had been given to wear.
It was a surreal sensation. Sam lay there on the hospital bed, numb from the stomach down, as the entire medical team surrounded her. Every now and then she'd catch sight of a medical instrument that a nurse would hand to a doctor, or she'd see a doctor withdraw his hand, his latex gloves covered in blood.
The entire time, Freddie stayed by her side and kept giving her words of encouragement, even though he looked close to passing out. Sam could only imagine how squeamish he felt from having to watch this entire procedure; the screen didn't block his vision after all.
She didn't know how much time had passed; it could've been ten minutes, it could've been ten hours. All she knew was that her heart was racing from both anxiety and excitement.
She heard one of the doctors say something, but she felt so drowsy from everything going on that she couldn't make out the words.
"They're ready to deliver the baby now," Freddie said, giving her an eager smile. "Any second now our son or daughter will be here…"
Sure enough, a moment later a loud cry filled the delivery room. Freddie immediately stood up to get a good look.
"Oh my God, Sam…" he said. "It's-It's a boy."
"I can't see," Sam said, trying to crane her neck. "Let-Let me-"
But the team of doctors and nurses had already swooped in.
Freddie cut the umbilical cord, and the baby was whisked away at once to be cleaned up.
"I want to see him," Sam said loudly, though she could barely be heard over the sound of her son's cries. "Freddie, I want to see him!"
"I-Okay," Freddie nodded. He hurried over to where the nurses were and spoke with them for a moment. He must have gotten through to them, because the next minute one of the nurses brought the blue bundle of blankets over to her bedside.
Very gently the nurses placed the infant in Sam's arms. Sam stared down at her newborn son, feeling an overwhelming sense of emotions. She couldn't believe she was finally holding him. He was so small, yet he seemed so…perfect.
"Hi," Sam whispered softly, stroking the tiny palm of his hand. "I'm your mommy. I love you so much sweetie. So, so-"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Benson, but we really need to bring him to neonatal," the nurse said apologetically.
"But-But I-"
And just as quickly as the nurse had placed him into her arms, she took him away from her.
…..
"How long do these stupid tests usually take?" Sam asked several hours later as she laid in the hospital bed, still very sore from the C-Section.
"I-I don't know," Freddie answered.
"I barely even got to hold him," Sam whispered. She looked up at Freddie. "It's bad news, isn't it? That's why they're taking so long…"
"Sam…"
"It-It's worse than they thought," Sam said, shaking her head. "Oh God, it's-"
"Freddie," Dr. Meller said, poking his head into the hospital room.
"What is it?" Freddie asked at once. "Is he okay? How bad is-"
"We'd like to talk to you out here for a moment," Dr. Meller said. "Please."
"Hey, what's going on?" Sam demanded. "It's been four hours and I want to see my son and-"
"I know, this will just take a second," Dr. Meller assured her.
"I'll be right back," Freddie told her, kissing the top of her head.
If Sam didn't currently have forty staples in her abdomen, she would've jumped right out of the hospital bed and followed Freddie out. She hated being left in the dark like this. All she wanted was to have her son in her arms.
It was nearly forty-five minutes before Freddie returned to the room, looking absolutely dazed and confused.
"What? What is it?" Sam asked the second he walked in. "What did they tell you?"
Freddie slowly sat down in his chair next to her bed. "Sam…" he said in a raspy voice. "Sam, there-there was a mistake…"
Sam's blood ran cold. "What do you mean? How-How bad is it? Is he okay? Freddie, is our son okay?"
"He-Yes," Freddie replied, still looking flabbergasted. "Yes, he-he's okay."
"So what mistake is it?" Sam asked, on the verge of tears at this point. "Oh God…did they say that the brain damage is worse than they thought? Did they-"
"The-The mistake didn't happen today," Freddie said softly. "It happened three months ago."
"What-What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"The-The day you got those tests done that-that said that our baby was going to have brain damage," Freddie said. "The ones that are ninety-nine percent accurate. We-We were the one percent, Sam…"
"I don't understand," Sam frowned.
"The reason they've been running tests back there with him for so long is because-is because they couldn't find anything to test," Freddie said. "They-They can't assess the extent of his brain damage because as far as they can tell…there is none."
"But-That-That's impossible," Sam said. "They-They told us-"
"There was a lab error," Freddie said. "According to Dr. Meller. He's still trying to figure out exactly what happened, but he thinks that some of the hormones from the prenatal vitamins you had been taking might have caused the results of the test to come back positive instead of negative since they were a new brand."
"Wait…" Sam said, trying to follow what her husband was saying. "So-So you're saying that-"
"There's no brain damage," Freddie said, his face breaking out into a huge grin. "Our son is okay, Sam. He-He's going to be okay."
"Oh-Oh my God…" Sam said as Freddie wrapped his arms around her. "I don't believe it."
Just then the door opened again and Dr. Meller walked in, wheeling a plastic crib into the room.
"I'm guessing you heard the news," Dr. Meller said as he stopped the crib next to Sam's bed.
"Yes," Sam nodded. "So-So it's true then. He-He's-"
"A perfectly healthy baby boy," the doctor replied. "Mr. and Mrs. Benson, I cannot even begin to apologize enough for everything you've been put through unnecessarily these past three months. I will have my lab team launch a full investigation into exactly what happened, and if there's anything at all that we can do for you-"
"We don't need anything," Sam said at once. "We just want our son."
"Of course," Dr. Meller smiled. He gently lifted the sleeping infant out of the crib and handed him to Sam. "I'll give you two a moment…"
"Look at him," Sam whispered, kissing the top of her son's tiny head. "Freddie, he's amazing."
"I know," Freddie smiled, stroking the child's thin, blonde hair. "He always was. He always would've been. And he always will be. Because he's ours. And that's what's important."
