But when the delivery room suddenly fell silent, I knew something was wrong. The doctor looked at the nurse.s. The nurse looked away. Then came the words for which I was not absolutely prepared. My two newborns had Down syndrome.
I had the feeling that the room was starting to circle around me. My husband didn’t say anything. My mother burst into tears. The doctor kept talking, explaining things to me that I barely understood, but I only heard a single terrifying thought that was repeated incessantly in my head: I can’t do this.
I was scared. Fear of the future. Fear of this responsibility. Fear that my whole life would have changed in a single moment. And before anyone could stop me, I made a decision that I would almost immediately regret. I signed the papers. I told them I couldn’t take the babies home. Then I came out of the hospital.
I still remember his cry behind me as I walked down the hall. Each step towards the exit became heavier than the previous one. When I finally got to the parking lot, my hands were shaking so much that I could barely hold the car keys.
I told myself that I should not turn around. I told myself that the hospital would find them a family. I became convinced that they would be better off without a mother who was too afraid to raise them. Then I heard someone scream behind me, “WAIT!”
I froze. A nurse would cross the parking lot running towards me, breathless, waving an arm. For a moment, I thought I was going to beg me to change my mind. But when he caught up to me, his face was pale. His eyes were full of panic. And the first words he spoke, he froze my blood.
