Call Him Aidan

Chapter Three

The Beginning, Part II: What's Wrong With Your Baby?

Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU or any of its affiliated characters. Any additional characters or situations I've created within this work of fiction are figments of my own imagination and intended to bear no resemblance to any real persons or their circumstances.

"Life roughs us all up; no matter what you thought, what you wanted, what you wished, it all changes. When change comes we do what we have to. I know you're proud, but pride doesn't always pay. We all need a little help sometime."

-Alex

Throughout her pregnancy, Amanda had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong. Aside from the occasional bouts of fatigue, she'd rarely even felt sick. Olivia being the ever faithful and doting wife had coddled her unnecessarily, at times driving her insane. During the times she'd sat in the NICU with her premature baby boy praying that he'd be okay, she hadn't complained about the excess of comfort her wife had tried to offer her. She accepted it in complete silence, showing gratitude in whatever small ways she could.

He was beautiful, all three pounds of him. Anyone else might not think so, they would have only seen him for his tiny, delicate frame and thin skin, becoming repulsed at the sight of all the wires and tubes attached to his fragile body in order to sustain life and promote his growth. But as the two ladies were so learning, the eyes of a mother held an entirely different view than the rest of the world. Every mother naturally thought that their baby was the cutest one, but when it came to situations like this where a child ended up being less than perfect, what may have simply been considered deformities or abnormalities to some, were badges of courage and marks of beauty to a mother. Though it had been hard to watch him fight and go through a hell neither of them could take away, neither of them ever questioned the fact that they had a little warrior on their hands.

They'd gone through months of going back and forth to the hospital, the NICU becoming a second home, the staff who worked there a second family. (Third, if you counted the team at SVU. When one member of the squad was down for the count, they made sure to go above and beyond to have that person's back) Olivia would arrive there after being run ragged and working herself to the bone saving other people's children, her spirits lifted on the good days with any news of even the smallest improvement and crushed on days when there wasn't any. The worst ones were the days when they didn't think there could possibly be any more evil in the world, only to take up their usual spot in the NICU to find out their son still wasn't healthy enough to come home, and that the only skin to skin contact they were permitted to have was putting their hands through an opening in his incubator. On those days, they cried with each other, minds numb and thinking that their spirits couldn't possibly be degraded anymore.

There was an indescribable kind of emptiness that manifested itself inside you when forced continuously to return home without your child. It was like people expected you to go on with life as if you didn't have one at all; you were supposed to forget about the fact that there were unused bottles and sealed containers of formula sitting on a shelf in your cupboard, that the crib in the room down the hall lacked an inhabitant and his cries of longing for his parents in the middle of the night. Those closest to them were shown pictures and occasionally asked after Aidan's well being, but even then they did it in a way that was all too delicate, like they feared the bruising of egos and hurting of feelings.

As much as they relied on each other, the circumstances that had brought the two women together was also driving a sort of wedge between them. The medical bills had piled up, and Amanda knew that Olivia felt a tremendous weight on her shoulders to be a provider as well as to be there for her family and not miss out on anything when it came to their son. She began to work a lot of overtime to compensate for Amanda's being on maternity leave, and when they did cross paths the majority of their conversations pertained to Aidan. The gruelling hours of the job and the toll it took coupled with the worry and stress that mounted by the day in their personal lives had left their marriage relatively sexless. Neither one knew how to get past the slump and make time for the intimacies they were acutely aware the other craved.

They had been told by the nurses in the ward that if the staff could get the baby out of the 'touch and go' sort of phase he was lingering in now, they'd have no reason to expect him to grow up to be anything less than a perfectly healthy young man. He may have some catching up to do and lag a bit behind other children his age, but it was nothing to be too concerned about. Kids were resilient. They'd had many a preemie come through their doors in dire straits, leaving months later with a clean bill of health only to come back through the same doors as young adults to thank the skilled individuals who'd saved their lives.

Hearing this had given both women more hope than they'd felt in what seemed like forever and finally allowed them to look forward to a time when the hospital ceased to suffice as home, when all the strife would be over and they could get back to being themselves. This never happened. Later when they looked back on that time, they'd shake their heads at how simple it had all seemed, how naive they had been.

In the beginning, his arrival home had lifted their spirits tenfold and seemed just like any other one. People had come to see him, cooing over him, oohing and ahhing about how tiny he was but impressed by how well he seemed to be doing. It had only become increasingly apparent to the two women that Aidan Rollins probably wasn't going to be what society liked to consider a 'normal' child at about eighteen months of age. When he seemed to be failing to hit the milestones of other children his age they'd taken him to doctor after doctor, each one making them feel like it was all in their heads. Treating them as if being first time parents automatically earned them the title of hypochondriac, worried about everything and trying to over diagnose their child. They'd been told countless times that his being born prematurely was cause for his developmental delays, but they'd felt strongly otherwise. He still needed help with the simplest of movements, and was not yet walking or sitting up without the support of his parents while other babies were going through the motions naturally. Women were right when they said mother's intuition rarely failed. They just wanted answers.

Having hit a wall with the medical professionals close to home eventually led them to being referred to a specialist out of state to find the answers they'd been so desperately seeking. Dr. Brett Kinsman, a physician specializing in Developmental Pediatrics, was said to be one of the best in his field. The first initial appointment with him was quicker than they'd expected it to be, and they were told they'd need to book a follow up to discuss some test results, so they opted to stay in a hotel until then with Olivia making use of all the vacation time she had piled up. Both women would remember the day of that follow up as one of the slowest of their lives. Time seemed to stand still, and they had wished it would stay that way. But time didn't stop when your heart got broken, especially when a little person with one even more fragile than yours depended on you for everything.

"Hello ladies," he had said, voice deep and throaty, eyes exuding warmth and kindness.

"Hi," they'd said in unison, Olivia letting go of her wife's hand when she felt it starting to sweat into her own and subtly wiping it across her jeans.

Dr. Kinsman had something about him that told the couple he was not like the other medical staff they'd found themselves in contact with since Aidan's arrival, (and there had been many!) though neither one could accurately pinpoint what this characteristic might have been. Perhaps the authority with which he commanded a room, the way he spoke confidently, but not harshly, making his patients feel like they mattered. Whatever it was, they'd felt their vulnerabilities safe with him from the moment they'd met even if he was basically a perfect stranger.

"I have some answers and information for you, and I'd like to point out before we start this conversation that you were not crazy for your suspicions with regards to your son's development. You're his parents, and whoever made you feel like your intuitions were misplaced was wrong. Medical professionals should always take parents concerns into consideration, but as you and I both know probably too well, many lack bedside manner. After having looked at him and conducting a series of evaluations and tests, it appears that your son has Spastic Dyplegic Cerebral Palsy."

Spastic Dyplegic Cerebral Palsy.

Amanda and Olivia both sat across from this perfect stranger of a man, eyes still kind and understanding like he knew he'd just irreversibly shook their world upside down and felt their mouths dry out, bile beginning to rise in the back of their throats. They couldn't get the words off their tongue, and they doubted the diagnosis would sound any better in layman's terms.

As if reading their minds, Dr. Kinsman cleared his throat, launching into an explanation to fill the silence that had encompassed them.

"Cerebral Palsy, by general definition, is a neuro-muscular condition causing impaired muscle coordination and sometimes secondary disabilities. It's caused by damage to the brain before or at birth. In the case of your son and his being born so prematurely, it's likely that certain parts of his brain that send signals to other parts of the body were underdeveloped or failed to develop at all."

Seeing the stunned expressions that crossed the faces of the two mothers, he paused momentarily to let all that he had just said sink in. Aidan had managed to shuffle himself a good distance from where they had placed him on the floor upon entering the free office space the doctor had led them into, and was now mere feet away from where the man sat. He didn't and couldn't move the same way as other children, often needing the aid of the adults around him, but he had certain ways he had learned to compensate for that. Shuffling (if you could call it that, it was more writhing about until he propelled himself to where he wanted to be) was a new thing he'd started doing.

"Hiiiii," he said laughing, the h being dropped and the greeting coming out as a very enthusiastic "I". The doctor having dealt with this all the time seemed to know exactly what he meant and thought nothing of his interruption of the conversation, happy to scoop him up and sit him in his lap against his chest.

"Well, hi! Are we taking too long for ya? Doctors offices are boring, huh?" Chuckling as he saw the boy become a little too fascinated with objects sitting on a desk adjacent them, he swivelled his chair toward his two mothers once again.

"He's really cute," he chuckled again, smiling widely.

"Thank you," Amanda piped up, pride evident in her eyes and the way she looked at him.

"Do you have kids?" It was none of her business, but Olivia sensed there was a lot more to the conversation they were having, and she wanted a distraction. With what they'd just been told about their own child, it seemed like a reasonable and innocent enough question.

"Two boys and three girls. None of them are this young anymore, though." He pointed gently toward the boy still in his lap indicating he was referring to his tender age. "I kinda miss those days."

The brunette nodded. She knew she would one day, sooner rather than later, understand what he meant.

"So.." Amanda spoke up slowly, unsure of whether she wanted to tread back into the waters of the heavy conversation they'd abandoned. "You've explained what Cerebral Palsy is, but I'm a little confused as to the meaning of the Spastic Dyplegic part."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He suddenly felt silly for not having explained it sooner. "There are many forms of Cerebral Palsy, and every form has its specific markers its recognized or diagnosed by. Sometimes, it may seem like a child has characteristics of more than one form. Even if two children have the same type, their two cases are rarely identical in the way it affects their bodies. What makes CP particularly tricky to diagnose is that it may not show up right away and there is no one test to rule it out, which is why it's taken you this long to get answers and why I did a combination of evaluations and testing before diagnosing your son. Spastic Dyplegia, in simple terms basically means that it more prominently affects the lower extremities of the body rather than the upper half."

"So what exactly does this mean for him? What should we expect?"

"It's without question that he will have to use a wheelchair for the remainder of his life, but depending on how his development progresses, he may also be able to use a walker for shorter excursions."

They both tried to keep a smile pasted on their lips as they listened to the doctor continue to explain things they never expected to hear. He reinforced again that there were many types of the disability, and the symptoms within a person could range from non existent to extremely severe. At Aidan's young age, though they now had a specific diagnosis, it was almost impossible to know yet exactly how he would be affected. (Though the fact that he was babbling and beginning to clearly form words was a good indication that he'd be able to speak coherently, with cognitive abilities fully intact. Some weren't so lucky)

They were told that though it was not a progressive illness and many people who lived with it from birth went on to live generally productive lives, there were many secondary things that could show themselves as he aged they needed to be aware of such as dexterity problems, decreased fine motor skills, and vision problems. It would also be important for them to ensure he participate in therapy (both physical and occupational) throughout his childhood.

Depending on his circumstances as he got older he may benefit from the use of custom fitted AFO's (ankle-foot orthosis) and there was a remote chance he could need surgeries later in life depending on the growth and development of his bones. (Some children with CP adapted themselves in how they got around when not using a chair as Aidan was now showing signs of doing, and sitting in certain positions or bending certain ways the body was not typically used to could sometimes result in bones popping out of place, such as a hip bone popping out of socket.)

"I know this is a lot to take in, and there will undoubtedly be more that crops up as he reaches certain ages. With five children of my own who I am fortunately able to say were born completely healthy and rarely ever even became sick, I can't even possibly say that I understand your feelings from the standpoint of a suffering parent. I can however, say I understand it from the standpoint of a doctor who's diagnosed this and worse, time and time again. I'm here whenever you may need anything or have questions. Feel free to reach me anytime you're so inclined, and I'll make sure to refer you to some of my contacts who are the best therapists in the business. We'll be in touch."

Ruffling Aidan's hair, he transferred him from his lap to Amanda's. Both ladies took it upon themselves to stand, feeling like there was nothing more he could possibly tell them. As they shook hands and the middle aged man walked out of the room, they thought that if they had to be burdened with this news, it was better to have heard it from someone who cared.

The drive across state lines was a quiet one that they spent the majority of being lost in themselves but at the same time holding hands, as if the dark cloud over them was tearing them apart while still bringing them together. Aidan was oblivious to their feelings, sleeping soundly in the back seat.

"I love you, you know that, right? No matter what happens from here, if you forget everything else please just remember that."

The brunette looked over at her wife, eyes watery and fatigue having crept up on her from the events of the previous days and squeezed her hand harder.

"Aw, babe I know that. I'll always know that. I love you, too."

It was funny how things that could seem so sincere in one particular moment in time could lack that same sincerity just a short time later. There was no question as to whether the two women loved each other. But as they looked back on that time in their lives, they'd realize that love was more work than either had anticipated and the strength of that love and their very family unit, would be tested time and time again.

Upon returning home, they'd taken long, hot showers as if to wash away the residual effects the events out of state had had on them and come to a unanimous decision to withhold the information of Aidan's diagnosis from everyone but a select few people until they had time to process it themselves.

One person who found herself exempt from the category of 'everyone' and lumped into the latter of 'select few' was Alex Shaffer (formerly Alex Cabot, previously ADA to the Special Victims Unit. She'd married her husband years ago, and decided to leave the law behind to focus on the family she herself now had, something none of her friends ever suspected she would do.)

Some time after the news of the diagnosis, they'd invited her over for coffee to break the news.

"I'm so sorry, you guys. Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was genuine, and there was no trace of pity. (If it had been anyone else, the ladies feared there may have been, and pity was something neither of them liked or appreciated.)

"We're doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances, I guess." Olivia set her empty mug onto the wooden table, not caring to get up and abandon the conversation just to put it in the sink right away.

"Is there anything you need?"

"Not that we can think of, no." In the moment, that answer was the truth.

"Well you know how to reach me if that changes. Miles and I are both here for you."

When Alex said that, it wasn't at all like when other people said it. She and her husband were about the only two people who really were there for them no matter the hour and would drop everything. They were so close that the families were godparents to each others' children.

"We know that, thank you."

"I just get so sick of people staring, you know? 'what's wrong with your baby?'" Amanda spoke up suddenly, the first time she'd done so during the entire exchange aside from swapping pleasantries when Alex had come in.

In the time before telling anyone of their son's afflictions, there had been many instances they'd gone out and people had stared or asked questions. You couldn't tell he was different just by first glance, (not yet, anyway.) but when other parents saw him out in the park being supported by his parents while trying to walk or stand and seeing how he struggled to move, they felt the need to vocalize their curiosity and some did it rudely. If it had been parents of other disabled children, it wouldn't have stung so badly. With people who understood, it was a swapping of experiences rather than a round of sickening rapid-fire questioning.

"My child is perfect the way he is no matter what he'll have to face. I get so angry at full grown adults who don't see that and can't shut their mouths."

"Honey, as a mother I completely understand what you're saying, but have you talked to somebody? It may help with the anger."

"Y'mean, like a shrink?" Alex knew the disdain she felt towards people trying to get inside her head and psychoanalyze her, so the words were laced with more than a hint of disgust.

"I know how you feel about them, but really it may help. Olivia and the rest of your friends and I can only understand to a certain point, and we're not very objective perspectives."

"Shit like that costs money, Alex. Money we don't ever seem to have. Anything we do have goes to bills or is put away for the things Aidan is gonna need. The medical bills piled up quick, and his future and the uncertainty it holds is coming even quicker."

"Who said you had to pay for it?"

"No. No, you are not buying us out of all of our problems, Aidan's godparent or not. I don't want you doing everything for us. I'm already tired of our world being shaken up, and it's just the beginning, but I'm not just gonna take the free and easy road. That's not something I want to teach my son to do."

It was no secret that Alex had done well for herself and her family also had money, but no matter how many times she'd offered it, though it would have been an easy out neither woman ever accepted it.

"Nobody said I would do everything, and what you teach your son is entirely up to you. Life roughs us all up; no matter what you thought, what you wanted, what you wished, it all changes. When change comes we do what we have to. I know you're proud, but pride doesn't always pay. We all need a little help sometime. Please, 'Manda, for the love of God. Let me help you. If not for your own well being, for the sake of Aidan having his mother emotionally available and healthy. You can pick whatever shrink you want, just let me take care of it. It could really help."

Fighting against her mind's lack of desire to give in, she knew she needed to listen to what her heart was telling her and that Alex was right. Aidan needed her, and would probably continue to need her much more than other kids. She couldn't be what he needed if she selfishly suppressed her emotions because of her own pride and aversion to outside help. She thought at that moment in time that taking the step of going to therapy just may bring her some balance and semblance of peace. The future was uncertain, but in that moment she'd hoped more than anything else that she'd be able to raise a well adjusted happy kid who was as independent as his circumstances would allow; that people would come to know him not just as 'the boy with problems' or 'the kid who's different', but as an individual, beautifully flawed human being. All she really wished for, was that they just call him Aidan.

A/N: I had some slight reservations about posting this one and wasn't sure it'd be well received due to the subject matter. I wanted to have a few chapters done before posting so people could get a feel for the story and wouldn't have to wait for an update. I had this last chapter all written but then lost the document and was unable to retrieve it so had to re-write it. Anyone who is a writer and has had the misfortune of losing their work knows that we often feel it's never quite the same the second time you write it. That being said, I managed to finish it and I hope this version of the chapter meets expectations. As I said in a note on one of the previous chapters, I don't typically go into detail about my own situation. Though this isn't based on myself, as a baby I was diagnosed with the condition Aidan's character has in the story so I understand it. This could stand alone as a three shot, but I do have ideas for future chapters if you all would like to see it continued. Let me know with a review. Thanks so much for your readership, as always, and I really hope you like this story.