What Could Have Been

Have you ever felt so guilty, that you just want to punch yourself in the gut? I have, and I still do. I feel guilty that my mom has to take care of Natalie all by herself. She had her hands full with me and my sister, and now she has another little girl. Natalie May, three years old and always going. I feel so guilty, that I never help, even though I really, really should. I feel so guilty, that all the responsibility is put on my mother, when it shouldn't be.

And now, I feel even more guilt, because my dear sweet Natalie is in the hospital. I don't know how many times she's been in there -- three or four, maybe? You see, she has these seizures. Most of the time they're minor, and only last a few minutes. But sometimes, such as her last one, are very bad. If they last more than twenty minutes, she's rushed to the hospital. Her latest lasted about an hour, which is too much for a little three year old body. They didn't think she'd make it. Well, that's what I was told. I wasn't there, I was somewhere in Canada with Justin, who I had met and started dating maybe 14 months before.

But that's beside the point.

I rushed out to see her. I was bombarded with hugs from my sobbing family members the second I walked through the hospital doors. My mother was going crazy, I could just tell. My father was in the corner rocking back in forth -- and I knew I had caused that. My 15 year old sister squeezed me so tight I almost passed out. They were all dangling by barely a thread, ready to fall into the dark, deep pit of insanity.

And I felt so guilty.

Then my mom led me to her room. She was laying on the bed, looking so helpless and lost. She had gotten skinnier, and her hair was falling out. Tears started pouring out of my eyes as I ran towards her trembling body. I picked her up, careful not to wake her up or hurt her. The only sounds in the room were the slow beeping monitor noises and my deep crying.

Mom joined in the hug soon enough. Then I felt my sister Mariah's arms fly around us. Then after thirty minutes of just sitting there, clinging to the tiny little body that belonged to Natalie, my father wrapped his arms around all of us. It felt right, but didn't lift any of the guilt off of my shoulders. Nat was still hurting, still had her condition, and could still die at any moment.

I suddenly felt her squirming. That's what she did when she woke up most of the time -- she squirmed and twitched her nose. I made everyone stepped back so I could watch her. Her tiny little eye lids popped open first, revealing her big blue eyes. I smiled widely and looked up at my mom, who was also smiling for once. I thought, maybe this was just another one of those minor ones.

But alas, I was very wrong.

Natalie didn't know many words, even though she was three. Her seizures were causing her learning disability. She knew how to say all of our names: "Maddie", "Mawiah" (And she said it in the most adorable way), "Derek" (My dad), and "Mindy" (My mom). She could say other things, too. Like "Hold me" or "I'm hungry" -- stuff like that. But while other kids her age were saying sentences, she wasn't.

We had a short conversation, my mother and I, about how my boyfriend and I were doing. I answered truthfully, we were doing just fine. Justin had been the first boy I ever really looked at since Ryan. He makes me feel like everything I have done aren't mistakes, just lessons. And I think I have enough experience now to say that yes, I truly do love him.

We were about to discuss the whole Natalie situation when the doctor came in through the open door. He had a smile on his face, but when he saw all of our happy faces, he frowned. It made my heart drop. Why wouldn't he be happy that everything was going to be okay?

Maybe, because it wasn't.

"Hi there, Natalie May," He said, pinching her cheek. He had been her doctor ever since she was born, and knew her probably more than I did. Which added even more guilt onto my plate. "How are you doing?" He asked her. She replied with a tiny, yet scratchy voice that said, "Okay." and a thumbs up. I couldn't help but smile.

Once she went back to playing with Mariah, he turned to my mother, father and I. The look on his face said everything, I just needed to hear the words.

"This one.. Wasn't good at all. It lasted about ten minutes too long. Her body went on an overload -- and it surely can't take anymore. If she suffers again, she won't make it." My mom went back into a crying fest again as she lent into my dad's chest. He rubbed my back and gave me an apologetic look. I stood up slowly and cautiously, and walked towards the doctor.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" I asked him. He smiled weakly, but it gave me hope. "Actually, yes. There's a medicine she can take.. But it's very expensive. I don't think-"

"I'll take it. She'll take it. Whatever, I can buy it." He opened his mouth to protest, but I put my hand up. "Trust me." I told him. He nodded and walked out of the room. After saying goodbye to my family, I walked out of the room, with my phone attached to my ear. I had to help her, I felt like it was my job. And it was, in every way. I was going to help my little Natalie feel better -- whatever it took.

"Believe me, Natalie. This is your last chance.."