The Perfect Child(20)

I turned the car off and twisted around in my seat. “This is our house, Janie. Christopher and I live here.”

I expected her to be hesitant and shy when we walked into the house, but she embraced it all without fear. She was always surprising me with her fearlessness. She took Christopher’s hand as he led her from room to room in the house. I walked beside them. I was careful not to push myself on her. Christopher was always trying to force our physical interactions, but I wanted her to do things in her own time and come to me when she was ready.

The tour abruptly stopped at the kitchen. She let go of his hand and dashed into the room. She spotted the refrigerator and scampered to it with a huge smile on her face. She tugged on the door and frowned when it wouldn’t open. She pointed at it. “Dr. Chris, help me. I want food.”

He shook his head. “It’s not eating time.”

She stomped her foot. “I’m hungry. Wanna eat. Now!” She yanked on the door again, but it was useless since it was locked tight. Her doctors had told us to lock all the refrigerators and cupboards because if we left them unlocked, she’d probably sneak into them and gorge on all the food until she got sick. It was still dangerous for her to eat too much.

“Honey, do you want to go outside?” I asked, moving to stand beside her, hoping I could distract her. It seemed torturous not to feed her, but the doctors had assured us that keeping her on her schedule was the best thing for her.

She glared at me and shook her head, pointing to the refrigerator again. This time she smacked it. “Food! I want to eat!”

We were one step away from a full-on meltdown. Suddenly, Christopher broke into a goofy dance and scooped her into his arms before she had a chance to protest. He swung her around. “Whee!”

She looked longingly over her shoulder at the fridge, but he twirled her again.

“Whee!” I exclaimed this time. “Look how fast you’re going!”

Slowly, a smile spread over her face. Christopher kept swinging her. Finally, she started giggling and stopped trying to look at the refrigerator. I let out the breath I’d been holding. We’d just passed our first parenting test.

But things didn’t go as smoothly during our visit the next day. We were sprawled out on the living room floor coloring when she suddenly started screaming. They were angry, violent screams. Not scared screams—rage screams. There were no tears. She wouldn’t let us get near her. Every time we inched closer, she screamed louder.

“It’s okay, Janie. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Christopher said.

His words had no effect on her. It was like she couldn’t hear him; she was somewhere else. She panted like she couldn’t get enough air. Christopher reached out to bring her close to him, and she sank her teeth into his forearm. He yelled and jerked back instinctively, pushing her away. She howled.

I crouched in front of her. “Honey, it’s—”

Her spit hit my face before I finished my sentence. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and turned to Christopher. He looked as lost as I felt.

She flipped herself onto her back and beat her fists against the wooden floor manically. Before we knew what was happening, she flung her head back and smashed it on the floor. It made a loud crack.

“Oh my God!” Christopher grabbed her and wrestled his arms around her to hold her in a tight bear hug. She let out another wail and head-butted him in the nose. He let her go, and she threw herself back down on the floor. Within seconds, she was banging her head again.

“She’s going to knock herself out,” I said. “You get behind her and hold her. I’ll grab her legs.”

He held her from behind so she couldn’t head-butt him again. I held her legs down with my arms. She fought against us, her small body rigid with rage, but we refused to let go. I was afraid she was going to pop her hips out of socket with the way she tried to kick me again and again. It felt like hours before she stopped fighting and her body went limp. It was finally over, but we were afraid to let go. It took another few minutes before we released our hold, and she burst into tears immediately, her body shaking with heaving sobs.

I ran to the bathroom down the hallway and grabbed a washcloth, running it under the faucet. I held it on her forehead like she was feverish, hoping the coolness would alleviate some of the heat flowing through her body. We tried everything to comfort her, taking turns holding her and rubbing her back. Christopher tried distracting her with videos on his phone—the ones with gorillas that usually made her laugh—but nothing worked.

She cried until the visit was over and we had to take her back to the hospital. She wailed the entire drive and was still carrying on when we left her in her room.

“Wow, that was so intense,” Christopher said as we drove away. Perspiration marks lined the armpits of his favorite T-shirt.

“Have you ever seen her like that?” I asked.

“I’ve seen her freak out before, but I had no idea it could last for so long. The nurses talk about how long she screams sometimes, but they never said it went on for hours. Do you think it’s too much for her too soon?” he asked. He was obviously shaken.

I reached out and grabbed his hand. “I think it’s going to be a tough transition for her, and this is probably just the beginning.”

“I don’t even know why she freaked out. I mean, one second we were coloring, and the next minute, she just freaked out for no reason. I didn’t even tell her no or anything.” His eyes were filled with questions, searching for answers.