“Xavier was born four weeks early because he was not growing well. My pregnancy had been full of stress his father had been unfaithful, and the emotional toll it took on me affected my blood pressure and ultimately the baby. Regardless of everything, Xavier came in robust and well. He emerged shouting, astonishing even the NICU doctors who anticipated he would remain until his due date. He was home with me after just 16 days.

I spent three beautiful months with my son on maternity leave. But the joy was short-lived. On my first day back at work, everything changed.
That morning, Xavier’s father had been texting me nonstop, saying how hard the baby was to handle. I told him we had find another solution soon. He had barely been alone with Xavier before just a couple of hours at most. Still, we had agreed that while I worked during the day, he had watch the baby, and i had take over at night. He had raised a child before, so I tried to trust him, even with my worries.

Then, I received a horrifying message: “Can I murder the baby now?” I brushed it off, telling him to hang in there I’d be home soon. Hours later, at 2:30 p.m., I received the message that no mother ever wishes to hear: “Xavier has ceased breathing.” “Return home at this moment.” He mentioned that Xavier was choking on milk, and they were en route to Seattle Children’s Hospital.

At the hospital, hearing Xavier cry gave me hope. But then he went quiet and pale. A CT scan revealed hemorrhaging in his brain. I asked his father, “How could this happen?” He kept saying, “He just choked on milk.”

Later that night, police detectives arrived. I learned Xavier’s injury was caused by non-accidental trauma—suspected abuse. His father was arrested that night for first-degree child abuse. Xavier underwent a medically induced coma for a duration of two weeks. Doctors warned me: he might not wake up. He could be blind, unable to move, or never speak.
But my boy fought. After 17 days, I brought him home. Our life is now filled with therapy sessions, specialist visits, and constant care. He is at high risk for cerebral palsy, but we do not have a diagnosis yet. Every day is hard but I will not give up.

Xavier is my miracle. He was born a fighter. Even with lasting damage, seizures, and uncertainty, he is here. He is alive. And i am endlessly thankful.
I share our story to remind others: never shake a baby. Walk away, breathe, and come back. One moment of anger can change everything.
Xavier deserved safety. Every baby does.