“Don’t take him home. He won’t live long anyway… One day you’ll thank me for this decision,” my husband said about our newborn son before walking out of the hospital that very same day. And in that moment, I made a decision I might still regret for the rest of my life – Happy paws

“I’m taking him home.”

Mike stared at me for a long time.

There was no anger on his face.

There was something worse.

Disappointment.

“Do you understand what you’re doing?”

“No,” I replied. “But I know what I can’t do. I can’t leave my son here just because I’m afraid of losing him.”

Mike picked up his coat.

At the door, he stopped and looked at our baby one last time.

Then he said,

“I can’t live every day waiting for his last one.”

And then he left.

During the first few months, I was terrified almost every night.

Whenever Jake slept longer than usual, I would walk over to his crib and check whether he was still breathing.

Whenever he developed a fever, I thought the day the doctors had warned me about had finally arrived.

But Jake kept living.

He turned one.