Because of Her

Prologue

1997

My beautiful baby boy has finally been born. He has the most gorgeous blue eyes that anyone has ever seen. He opened the for a quick second and immediately shut them. Poor, baby. It was probably too bright for him. He's perfect. I look down at my son and smile down to him.

"Hi, Liam." I whispered. He didn't stir. He was happily asleep in my arms. I'm so glad. Although it was pretty intense for me, the poor boy is exhausted. I gently rock him back and forth, humming a tune in his ear.

"Sarah?" I look up and see my husband looking both cautious and eager to see his new son.

"Hey, Mathew." I said with a huge grin. "Come see our baby boy."

He slowly walked over to me and held his hands out. I gently passed him over and Mathew gazed down at our baby. A smile was plastered on his face. I was glad to see him so happy. While still looking at the Liam, he says, "We need to bring him home and get our house ready for him."

I nodded in agreement. "I know. One of my sisters are bringing our stuff to the new house."

"Which one?"

"Sophie."

"Ah. The baby sister."

I smiled, remembering how much of a clumsy person she is. "Yeah. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn't a good idea to entrust her with our breakables." I reached out for Liam and Mathew put his back to me jokingly hiding him from me. "Oh come on." I whined. "Give me my baby."

Mathew walked over to me and handed me Liam. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Our baby." I looked up at him and he gave me a quick kiss. He knew that I was going to give all my attention to Liam for a while. "I'm gonna go grab us some food. I'm sure you're hungry."

2000

"What the hell do you mean, Mathew?" I yelled.

"That child is not mine!" He snapped.

I gave him a look that could kill. "'That child' is as much yours as he is mine."

"That's complete bull." He said walking out of our bedroom. I followed him out and watched him grab a plastic bag from the closet in the hall.

"What are you doing?" I questioned.

He didn't answer me but continued to head to our bedroom. He opened his dresser and started to take clothes out of it.

I got between him and the dresser and pushed him back. "Mathew! Answer me."

He glared at me and said, "I'm leaving. You're a liar and a cheater and I am definitely not staying here."

I was in a state of utter panic. "Mathew, please. I didn't cheat on you!" He walked around me a preceded to fill his bag with clothes. "I can't support a baby on my own." 

He tied the bag together, threw it over his shoulder, and said, "Then get rid of him."

I stood there stunned. He want's me to get rid of my baby? I thought. If I get rid of him, he'll stay. I looked back at Mathew with tears in my eyes. "Then leave."

"You choose the baby over me?" He scoffed.

"Of course I do! And I will continue to choose him no matter what you do." I spit. "Just leave, Mathew. We don't need you here."

He laughed. "Yeah. Keep thinking that." With that, he left me and three year old Liam. Alone.

2001

"Somebody help me, please!" I said holding my almost four year old son outside in the poring rain. "He's sick! Someone please help, me!" There was no one. No one helped my poor baby boy. I ran back inside and tried to help him myself. I looked up his symptoms:  Vomiting, headache, confusion, neck stiffness, rash, and a high fever.

The first thing that came up was meningitis. The only way to treat it involved a hospital. I don't have enough money to have the hospital help. I made him some soup to help the fever, had him lay down to help his neck stiffness and gave him a trashcan to throw up in when he needed to. I gave him medicine that usually helped him feel better. He had to go through is fourth birthday being sick.

I did this for a week. I called my little sister Sophie and had her come up to the house and help him while I was out working to get money to take him to the hospital. I worked part time at a restaurant but I practically begged to work longer. I told my boss what was going on and she had mercy on me. 

I was able to finally afford to take my son to the hospital. The news I got was not at all good.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but the meningitis wasn't treated fast enough. Your son is becoming deaf." The doctor told me and Sophie. 

I sat down on the medical bed that Liam was on and looked at him. He was asleep. Good. I thought. He doesn't need to see his mother cry. I looked back to the doctor. "'Becoming'? So does that mean he can still hear me?"

He shook his head. "No. If anything, it may sound like mumbles. He's still asleep right now because he can't hear us. Say his name but don't touch him."

I looked back at my son. "Liam. Baby, wake up." He didn't move. My tears fell faster. "Liam, I need you to wake up. Hear me, please!" Still nothing. Nothing was working and I died  little inside. I wiped away my tears and calmed down enough to make it seem like I haven't cried. 

I looked at Sophie. "Do you have a piece of paper I can use?" She grabbed her purse and searched through it. She shook her head and looked to the doctor. He took the back of a paper on his clipboard and handed it to me along with a pen.

I wrote "Good morning, Liam" on the paper and lightly shook his arm. He opened his eyes and I tried my best not to cry. I just put a smile on and showed him the paper. I knew he could read it because I taught him how to after he said his first word at nine months old. It took a few years, but he can read a few words including his name. He looked at the paper and smiled at me. 

"Hi." He squeaked. He immediately stopped smiling. He looked around and then jumped off the bed and walked to the mirror. He made a noise that sounded like a question. His eyes widened and he spun around to look at me. He walked over to me and grabbed the paper and pen. He started writing a whole bunch of scribbles. He would get frustrated and cross it out. It seemed like he was trying to find the right words to say. Finally he handed the paper back. It read:  No sound. 

I looked back at him and I nodded sadly. He walked over to a chair and just sat in it. He held his head in his hands and wept. My poor baby feels broken. I can't let him feel that way. I have to teach him that he can do anything that anybody else can do. He's going to live his life and he will know that he is not broken. He never has been and he never will be.