After Five Years of Waiting, Our Son Was Born With Down Syndrome—Then My MIL Told My Husband He Still Had Time to Leave
I couldn’t stay hidden anymore.
I stepped around the corner.
Brandon saw me.
All the color left his face.
“Jannet.”
I stared at the phone.
Then at him.
“All those secret calls.”
His eyes filled.
“I wasn’t agreeing with her.”
“I thought you were.”
“I know.”
My voice broke.
“Do you?”
I wiped angrily at my tears.
“I have spent two days lying beside our son wondering whether you’re deciding if he’s worth staying for.”
Brandon’s expression crumpled.
“Jannet, I am so sorry.”
Kimberly’s voice came through the phone.
“Is she there?”
I held out my hand.
Brandon gave me the phone.
Part 7 — The Son She Had Never Spoken About
For several seconds, Kimberly and I said nothing.
Finally, she whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
I looked through the glass window of the hallway door toward Noah’s room.
“Sorry for what?”
Her breathing caught.
“For what I said.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“You told my husband he should abandon the baby we spent five years praying for.”
“I know.”
“You looked at Noah and decided his diagnosis mattered more than the fact that he was your grandson.”
She cried quietly.
“I know.”
“Why should I ever trust you near him?”
She had no immediate answer.
I almost ended the call.
Then she said:
“Because I was wrong.”
I sat down slowly in one of the hallway chairs.
Kimberly continued.
“I was wrong thirty years ago. And when I walked into that hospital room and saw Noah…”
Her voice collapsed.
“I saw Matthew.”
I closed my eyes.
“I saw the baby I gave away. I saw every decision I’ve spent decades pretending I had made peace with.”
She took a shaky breath.
“And instead of facing that, I tried to make Brandon choose what I chose.”
“What happened to Matthew?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer stunned me.
“You never found out?”
“No.”
“He’s your son.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Her voice became so quiet I almost couldn’t hear her.
“Because I was afraid of either answer.”
I said nothing.
“If he had a happy life, then I would have to admit maybe I could have had one with him too.”
She sniffed.
“And if he didn’t…”
She couldn’t finish.
After a few seconds, she whispered:
“I didn’t know how I would live with that.”
There was suddenly no anger in me large enough to erase the sadness of what I was hearing.
