For nine months, my wife Brooklyn carried our baby boy knowing he was dying. Three months in, they told us he had severe hydrocephalus. Too much fluid crushing his brain. "Off the charts bad," the specialists at Cincinnati Children's said. So extreme they stopped measuring because it didn't matter anymore.
The MRIs were sickening to look at. They said over 90% chance he'd either die right after birth or survive with such severe brain damage that any quality of life was impossible. We had meetings about breathing tubes. About when to remove life support. About letting our son "pass peacefully."
Brooklyn moved to Cincinnati, lived in a hotel near the hospital in case she went into labor. I drove back and forth, working, trying to hold our family together while planning our baby's funeral. On July 8th, fifteen minutes before her C-section, we had another meeting about the breathing tube. About when we'd need to remove it and let him go to Heaven.
Then Charlie came out crying. The sweetest sound I've ever heard.
He stayed in intensive care until yesterday. Now he's home, doing everything babies do. Normal. Beautiful. The doctors have no medical explanation. His brain somehow cleared the blockage on its own, something they've never seen in a case this severe. Nurses with decades of experience kept saying "miracle" and "divine intervention."
Thousands of people were praying for us. Friends, family, strangers, people we'd never met. I'm practical, I believe in science, but I know God was involved in this. I give Him all the credit.
During those endless nights in Cincinnati, I started woodworking in the hotel parking lot just to keep my hands busy, to stop my mind from breaking. Made small toys hoping one day Charlie might hold them. Listed a few things on the Tedooo app where I'd been selling my work, and strangers started buying pieces they didn't need, sending messages saying they were praying for our son. That community held me when I couldn't stand.
Charlie's here. He's alive. Prayer is real, and miracles still happen.
By Amanda Cain
Barstool lost a member of our family this weekend. Just tragic news. You will never find a nicer more genuine person than Beef. It’s hard to even process it right now. Just another cruel reminder that tomorrow is never promised and to live each day to its fullest. #Ripbeef
🚨🗣️⛳️ #TEEING OFF — Veteran Swing instructor Butch Harmon unloads on the current state of professional golf & the PGA TOUR (via @MattAdamsFoL)
“When you turn on the TV on Saturday and Sunday and you look at the leaderboard and the novice golf fan sees these 10 names and he has no idea who any of them are. Cause it’s not any of the superstars…. that to me is wrong.”
“The business side - it’s at the worst it’s ever been… If the commissioner had of taken Yasir’s phone call 4 years ago we wouldn’t be in this place…”
“I think the arrogance of the PGA TOUR - thinking they were the best game and only game in town and that nobody was gonna come in and do anything about that.. well we’ve seen what’s happened.”
“All you and I want and all golf fans want is when we turn on the TV on Sunday we wanna see the best players playing against each other. That’s all we want.”
Do you agree with Butch?
A major tradition—emptying the notebook with 18 Parting Thoughts on an unforgettable week at Valhalla.
On Xander’s triumph, Bryson’s image turnaround, the state of Rahm, Scottie’s arrest, zoysia, Tosti, the coaching carousel, Tiger’s future and much more:
https://t.co/OtXS33kNRb