Butterflies

Butterflies

I am Adam and today I got two butterflies tattooed on my left shoulder.

I go to Westbanks high. I am currently seventeen years of age and I have no idea what I am doing with my life.

About a month ago I got a phone call. It was 7:32 PM. Don’t ask how I remember the time, I just do.

It was from the hospital. They told me to come in right away. There was about to be a delivery.

I rushed to the hospital. I mean what else could I have done? She needed me at the time. She was going through a tough time on her own and I would do anything to help as best as I could.

I remember bursting through the hospital doors and yelling her name. I asked the nurses where she was and they led me to the waiting area.

“Only family members. Sorry, but that’s the policy,” they told me.

No matter how hard I tried to explain that I was family, that I was the father, they didn’t believe me and they wouldn’t let me through. After a wait of over two hours I finally saw the doctor approaching me.

“Hey, Adam. We have some mixed news. It’s not looking too good for Amanda; she sustained heavy internal injuries during childbirth. She most likely will not make it. On the other hand, your baby is pretty healthy. Would you like to see your baby boy?”

I quietly followed him to the nursing room, where all the babies are kept. We stood in front of the glass window and gazed into the tiny room with even tinier humans. He pointed at the one on the very left and told me that he was mine. I couldn’t look away he was so beautiful.

But he was different.

He was not like the other babies. He had almond eyes. A broad round face. A short nose. The doctor saw my expression. He knew what I was thinking.

“Adam. Your boy is healthy for the most part. He does however have a condition. He has something called down syndrome, I am certain you have heard of it before. If you have any questions feel free to call anytime.”

Within the next few days the hospital ran lots of test on little Jack. And then I finally got to take him home.

I had to start skipping school, and I fell way behind in all of my classes. My dad left me and mom when I was eight. My mom worked two jobs to help support the new addition to our family. I stayed home and kept Jack company. While he slept I did a lot of research on kids with down syndrome and the accommodations required.

For the longest time I felt guilt, shame and embarrassment.  I felt guilty because I knew Jack was different and I felt like I didn’t love him as much as I could have at first. I was scared to love him. I knew that we did not have the financial stability to raise a child with down syndrome. I was considering giving him away. I felt shame because I was responsible for producing a lesser offspring. I felt embarrassed because I couldn’t return to school, I couldn’t hang out with friends because I was stuck taking care of Jack. I put my mother through hell because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.

It was hard at first. I didn’t sleep many nights because he would cry endlessly. I didn’t know what was wrong and I could never quiet him. He was a fussy baby.

Then it got easier. I began getting the hang of things. I learned how to change diapers, how to feed the baby, how to keep him quiet when he wanted to cry. I learned how to comfort Jack; he loved it when I picked him up and rocked him gently.

Then I found a job. It was minimum wage at Tim Horton’s, but at least it was something. This gave my mom a break and she stayed with Jack when I was working.

One day I came home from work and my mother wanted to talk. She thought it would be best to give Jack up for adoption. We had a long debate about this and finally I agreed with her. Jack was too much for me. Even when things began looking better, it was just too difficult for me to handle alone.

Two days after putting him up, a nice couple was able to take him in.

Earlier today I got a tattoo. Two butterflies on my left shoulder. One for Amanda and one for Jack. The two things I felt that I loved most in this world. The butterflies represent change. I am a different person now.

A butterfly starts out in a cocoon, sheltered from the outside world, bundled within itself. Then it begins to emerge. And it is hard at first. You really struggle to break free of your old self, of your empty shell, to leave it all behind. Then the butterfly is fully emerged and is able to spread its wings for the first time. It is able to take flight and go to a nice place. It is able to start life again.

Today I am starting my life again.