The Little Lamb

By SL Schroader

The Little Lamb is a heart-wrenching story of a tragic accident to a seven-week old baby girl. What really happened to her? Who is at fault? Will she recover? The saga takes many jaw dropping twists and turns through the legal system and the medical field. But through it all is the love of a grandmother for her granddaughter, and God's healing, mercy and grace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SL Schroader
• Release date: Sep 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458060891

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The Little Lamb

SL Schroader

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2010 SL Schroader

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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THE LITTLE LAMB

Chapter 1 - The Bump

The loud pounding and fast beating of my heart felt like a jack-hammer going off in my chest. My breathing slowed down and with each breath, it echoed in my ears. My palms were wet with sweat and I rubbed them together profusely. The hot flash raced across my body making my skin feel like it was on fire. A panic attack over seeing her and seeing for myself that she is okay. Panic wondering if she would remember me. Panic over how much I have missed. Panic wondering what new things she has learned since I saw her last.

My husband, Roger looked at me with a puzzled face, smiled and grabbed my hand. As his strong, warm, rugged hand closed around my hand, I began breathe regular and relax. My heart rate decreased and my skin began to cool down. How did he know what I was feeling? Did it show that much?

The excitement and anticipation of seeing my granddaughter was overwhelming. How I have missed her. How much I love her. How much our lives have changed since she has come into this world. How different the love is for your grandchild than your children. How every little thing she does seems like it is the very first time you have ever experienced it.

Roger and I have seen Molly every day since she had been born. After work, on the weekends, Roger and I wanted to see her and be with her. Over the Labor Day weekend, I was ill with the flu. As hard as it was, I avoided visiting her because I did not want her to get sick. She was so tiny and I just did not want to take the chance. Nevertheless, a long weekend away from her proved to be more difficult than I thought. This was Labor Day weekend, a three-day weekend. The waiting to see Molly through the long weekend was lonely, miserable and unbearable.

We’re here, Roger said as the apartment complex came into view. I began to sit up straight, check the mirror and unbuckle my seat belt. My eyes focused on the second floor apartment window. The apartment complex was less than a mile from our home but that mile sometimes seemed like fifty. The apartments were brick with two sections of apartments with a road that ran in between them. In the middle of the road was a grassy area where the older children played ball and games. At the doorway leading into each set of apartments were white columns out front and the apartment numbers were listed in black. The mailboxes were inside the foyer on the right side.

Roger pulled the car into a parking space underneath their apartment and turned off the ignition. We glanced at each other, smiled and then it was on. The car doors flung open and we both bolted out of each side of the car. We raced each other to the apartment door, pushing and pulling on each other trying to be the first to the top of the stairs. Holding onto the rail, climbing two stairs at a time and laughing like teenagers.

Roger reached the apartment door first and rang the doorbell. He stood in the doorway and blocked it with his arms. Frantically, I tried to go under his arms to get by him but he would stop me. I began to jump up and down and peep around his back to see. The floor creaked as footsteps from inside the apartment approached the door. The chain rattled on the inside of the door. Ever so slowly, the door opened after what seemed like an eternity. Roger and I both whizzed by Brook, our daughter searching the room for my granddaughter. Well, hello to both of you, too Brook said under her breath. Oh, I’m sorry honey, Hi, I said as I focused on the baby bouncer. Yeah, whatever Brook sighed as she closed the door.

Finally, there she was. She was in the baby bumper. I fell down on the floor on all fours and crawled over to it. She saw me and started smiling and cooing. Molly had missed me!!

Molly Lynn was born on June 8, 2005, at 2:48 pm at Methodist Hospital in Wilmington, Tennessee. She weighed in at 7 pounds, 15 ounces and she was 20-½ inches long. Molly was a beautiful bouncing baby girl with no hair. A grandmother’s love for her grandchild is indescribable. The bond is immediate and everlasting. God blessed my family with this little bundle of joy. God answered my many prayers for a healthy baby.

Last year my eighteen-year-old daughter, Brook and I had a nice afternoon of shopping together. When we arrived home still sitting in the car just the two of us, Brook looked at me with her big, brown eyes and said she had to tell me something important. No parent wants to hear those words so I braced myself for a shock. Brook took a deep breath and in a tiny, frail voice uttered just three little words that forever changed my life, my plans, and my dreams for her. Mom, I’m pregnant.

As my mind scrambled to understand what I just heard, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. My stomach felt as if someone had punched me and knocked the air out of me. My mouth was so dry that I could not speak. I was in denial. I was in shock. There must be some mistake. This cannot be happening to my family.

My head went down between my knees because I was going to faint. Mom, are you alright, Brook asked. I managed to nod my head but stayed in the same position for several minutes. My brain had grasped what she said and slowly my pounding head lifted and looked over at Brook. Her head was down, her long, brown hair draped over her face, and I realized she was crying. The mother, who protects, nurtures, loves, tucks you in at night desperately wanted to fix this situation. There seemed to be hundreds of reasons I needed to fix this because this was not the right time, she was too young and she was not married. However, my arms went around her and we hugged and cried. My hand touched her face and wiped away her tears, just as our heavenly Father will comfort us one day.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes

(Revelation 21:4a)

That night I couldn‘t sleep and I lay awake for hours. My mind wandered back to Brook’s childhood. A little girl playing with her barbie dolls, crying over spilt milk, learning how to ride her bike and playing hopscotch. Where did the years go? She was now a senior in high school and I wondered if she would stay in school or drop out? Even though Brook has always been a daddy’s girl, how was she going to tell her daddy? Brook is our youngest child. She is very petite, stands about 5‘2", weighing close to a hundred pounds. Her brown hair and eyes makes her look just like her father. She had a stubborn streak just like him too.

Uh, um. Roger said looking frustrated at me with his arms folded and tapping his foot. Oh, okay. I guess it is your turn I replied. Molly squealed when I kissed her cheek and I got up off the floor. Brushing my seat off and flipping my hair, I glanced over at Brook. What’s wrong? I said to her. Brook was sitting on the couch chewing her nails while staring at the floor. What’s wrong? I repeated louder getting more concerned.

Brook wouldn’t look at me and got up off the couch and began pacing across the room. She was running her hands through her hair like she does when she is nervous. Brook cleared her throat, stopped, and turned toward us. Something was drastically wrong. Brook looked extremely worried and concerned almost to the point of tears. Brook I almost screamed. Molly has a bump on her head, Brook said shakily.

Immediately, Roger picked Molly up out of the carrier and was now holding her. Where he demanded as he began to feel around his little head. His fingers stopped at the left side of her head just above her left ear. He kept rubbing his fingers in that one spot on her head and there was complete silence in the room. Brook wiped at her eyes. What in the world was Roger feeling of on Molly’s head? Why in the world did he have that look on his face?

Has Molly been acting normal? Has she been eating? Roger asked Brook. Yes. Do you think something might have bit her?" asked Brook. Something might have bit her. Of course. Now that