Its him, my baby son, Jonathan, Jonathan Dylan Westfield. My Miracle baby. He survived the worst thing in this WORLD...
"Go on Soph, keep going"Said the nurse.
I am here, at 16 years old having ym first baby. It's a hard job. He is heaving, sweat runs down my forehead and fingers red with blood. I hear screams. Screams of my first baby boy. I names him Jonathan Dylan Westfield. My scorpio baby boy. My boyfriend, Kyris wanted to call him Dylan West Westfield. I regected him. His middle name was always going to be Dylan. I love the name Jonathan. He is MY baby boy, MY own birth child, MY own flesh and blood and he dumps me, because of a name, I dont care, I dont mind at least I have my baby boy. My beautiful beautiful baby boy. My sand-dancer.
"Go on hold him, dafty" My best friend Lea looked into my eyes as I burst into tears.
"Ohh whats wrong with mommy, huh?" Said the nurse to my baby. The baby started to cry too.
I screamed, he screamed, I wailed, he wailed, I stopped, he stopped.
"Pass him here please," I said to the nurse.
His soft cheeks nestled under my chin, he soft hands red with blood and his baby blue eyes staring up at my with joy. He smiled and burbled.
"Aylaoo" he said, I take it he was trying to say I Love You. He is my little burbler.
Then the doctor came in and checked over him. He stormed off. Ten minuted later a nurse came in and said my baby he 'Signser'. I had no idea what that was. She said it was a child cancer but worse and only 1 infant has survived it and he was 11 years old. I started to cry, my baby was going to die. The nurse said 99% that he will die. They are going to shut down his oxegyn mask. I screamed I wailed I wouldnt let them.
"NOOOOO!"
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