Rushing down the hallways of a hospital, Julie was being wheeled to a room. She was about to give birth. The baby she had been carrying for nine months was about to be here. There was no more waiting, no more pretending that this wasn’t happening, he was being born.
This was not a planned pregnancy. Julie and her boyfriend of three years had unexpectedly become pregnant. Then Mike left her. He said he would pay child support, but wanted nothing to do with the baby’s life. Julie had no family. No one that was there for her, no shoulder to cry on…nothing. All she had was her son.
Born at 11:11 on June 19th, Jackson was rushed into the ICU because his heart didn’t work properly. It was decided he was going to need heart surgery, at less than a week old, just to figure out what was wrong. There was a low chance of survival, low chance of making it, a low chance of bringing happiness to the world. But there was hope.
11:11. Many believe this is a lucky time. A time where you can make a wish, take a chance, make a change. Julie thought this was fate. Her baby was born at a time that was meant for hope. Jackson was full of hope.
The first two days of Jackson’s life were hard. Nonstop crying, no rest for either Jackson or Julie. Jackson, barely able to breathe on his own and Julie filled with fear. Watching her baby struggle, watching him cry….watching him try to survive. Nothing was easy for her; it hadn’t been for a while.
On the fourth day of Jackson’s life he had an emergency open heart surgery. There was no time to waste, Jackson was dying and he needed help. Surgery at such a young age was risky, but was the only option at the time. He had a problem, and this was a solution.
At two months old, Jackson was released from the hospital. He was normal. The surgery had worked. There was no pain in these little boys’ eyes, no sound of terror in his cries. He was better. Julie had a real smile back on her face, not the one she faked every time she saw her son. Pretending that everything was okay, pretending that none of this was going on…pretending. But now she was back in reality. Her son, was just like any other two month old; a pain. He stayed awake late in the night, and didn’t want to eat when he was supposed to, but everything was normal.
July 17th
Two days and Jackson would be at a year. He was a miracle baby, the doctors said he didn’t have much chance of living, but he did. Julie was driving, Jackson in the back seat, going to the airport. They were flying in to visit her sister, who had planned a elaborate party to celebrate little Jackson’s one year.
It was particularly stormy that day, on and off showers, leaving rainbows high in the sky. Not a bad day to be driving along, looking at the view. Jackson was giggling along to the music, smiling like happiest person in the world. Julie driving down a busy highway, concentrating on the road. But all it takes is one moment, one second, one cry to change everything.
Jackson, who was happily playing with his Fischer Price fish aquarium just a second before, had burst out in to a terrible screech, a screech because he dropped his toy. Memories came rushing back to Julie; memories of the days 10 months ago in the hospital. This was the same cry, the same kid, and possibly the same situation. Without thinking, Julie turned back to see what was wrong. She lost control of the wheel. The car jolted to a stop, but the driver behind them didn’t notice. There was a thrust of power, lots of loud noises, lots of heat, lots of terror. There was a second where everything went wrong.
Jackson died. The back of his head was attacked by the hood of the car, damaging the brain instantly, killing him within minutes. Julie, still alive, lay beside her now desisted son, crying. She was the reason he died. If she wouldn’t have turned around, they would be boarding a plane right now, but instead, she’s alone. She has no family; she has no one to care for her, no one to care about. She has no reason to live.
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