He was perfect.
Then I looked at Goldi.
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He barely looked at it.
She stared at the floor as the doctor explained that Leo might need heart exams, hearing tests, early intervention, and additional medical support as he grew older.
When the doctor left, Goldi whispered, "I can't do this."
I honestly thought I was in shock.
I moved my chair closer to his bed.
“We don’t have to know how to do everything today,” I said. “We’ll figure it out together. One day at a time.”
She shook
her head.
“No, Arthur. I can’t.”
“You’re scared. Me too.”
He turned towards the window.
“You’re not listening to me. I can’t do this.”
For the rest of the afternoon, he refused to carry Leo.
I was giving Leo his bottle and changing his diaper while she barely paid attention to us.
I told myself that she was having a hard time accepting the diagnosis.
I was also pregnant
