Carissa's Law

by Misty Boyd

  “So what’s up, kid? You seem perky for so early in the morning. Last night go well with Isaac and Betty?”

  “Mom, you have no idea. I think I’m onto something big.” Carissa added sugar and cream to her cup. “See, Ms. Carter used to work with the same people that got the ADA started, back in the eighties. She was kind of a big deal in it, even before she got injured in the car accident. She was one of the ones who made it all happen.”

  “Very cool!” Sarah replied. “So you guys talked about that?”

  “Yeah, and Mom, I have an idea.” Excitement beamed out from her face. “Knowing Betty did it, I think it’s time for my generation to step up. You know I’ve had law school on my heart for a while, wanting to change things for people with spina bifida, right?”

  “Right…” Sarah waited, feeling Carissa’s energy.

  “Well,” Carissa said, her voice fiery at the thought of the challenge, “I can’t go back right now, but I think I found my REAL passion… the babies, the ones who don’t have a voice and can’t fight for themselves.”

  “Okay…” Sarah waited for more.

  Carissa continued on, her body animated. “I wrote an email to one of Betty’s friends from the ADA fight. Well, actually, I wrote several emails, but only one person replied. She wants to help me. I think I can do this.”

  “What? You think you can do what with babies? What are we so excited about, hon? I want to be excited, too, but I’m feeling more nervous than excited right now.” Sarah rested her elbows on the table, a bit overwhelmed. “Perhaps let me in on your project, so I don’t start coming up with ways to find bail money.”

  “Mom, remember when you were pregnant, and the doctors told you I wouldn’t live? And, if I did live, I’d have all these horrible complications? And how you might be better off not having me at all because, even if I lived, I’d be miserable?” Carissa took a big swallow of her doctored-up coffee and leaned back in her chair, not noticing that her nice, warm breakfast was cooling.

  “I’ll never forget,” Sarah admitted.

  “It wasn’t true then,” Carissa stated.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  Carissa rushed on. “Well, I met a woman when I was in the hospital. Her baby has spina bifida, and they told her all the same things! It wasn’t true then, and it’s definitely not true now, but they’re still saying it. Doctors are still getting their information out of the same outdated textbooks they were when you were pregnant, and new moms and dads have to make life-and-death decisions based on that outdated information.”

  Carissa’s enthusiasm for her cause captured Sarah’s attention. Carissa continued. “Babies who are perfectly capable of living long, happy, healthy lives, are dying due to false, outdated information, but I think we can do something about it. We can make these doctors educate themselves. We can make it a law that no prognosis can be handed out without the doctor getting all the latest research, not just telling parents what he read out of a fifty-year-old textbook when he was in med school. It’s only fair that parents get the truth. You know I don’t believe in abortion at all but, if I can only save a few, I want to save them.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m really excited for you, but this is BIG. I’m not sure you understand how big this could get. You’ll get a lot of pushback. It might get really emotional and overwhelming for you. Or it might never take flight.” Sarah gave her daughter a penetrating look. “Are you sure you can handle it if this idea of yours never leaves the ground? Are you sure you have to be the one? What if this takes over so much of your life that you can’t get back to school next semester? You’re only eighteen. This is a lot to take on.”

  “I have to be the one, Mom. No one else is doing it. This is important to me.” Carissa reached across the table and took her mom’s warm hand. “It’s already overwhelming me,” she said, “but not for the reasons you think. It’s overwhelming me because I can’t sit here another minute knowing what I know and not doing anything about it. I can’t let babies die, knowing I could say something and it would all stop.”

  Her eyes pleaded with Sarah. “It’s already emotional for me, Mom. I AM one of those babies. You and Dad could have chosen differently. The only difference between me and them is that you and Dad chose to keep me despite all the horrible things the doctors told you. It IS emotional, but I have to do it. And, even if the idea never takes off, I have to know I tried.”

  “Okay, hon,” Sarah smiled encouragingly, “then I’m behind you. This is big, though. It’s a lot to handle.”

  “I know, Mom, but I don’t have any other choice. I can’t live with myself if I don’t try.”

  “Then you have to,” Sarah smiled, tears glistening in her eyes, “and I’ll support you. I love you, kid.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  Sarah picked up their still-full plates and placed them in the microwave for a quick warm-up, then she and Carissa finished breakfast and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

  Carissa hugged Sarah, then went to her room to do some research on her new project. She needed to be able to present her case with facts, not just emotion. She was hard at work, deep into cyberspace, when her email alert dinged. She recognized the name in the address bar immediately. Connie Peterson. This was everything, or nothing. She opened it up.

  Carissa,

  I have received the email you sent to Ms. Jenkins, and I have to say, I’m absolutely on board with helping you. You’re right. At the very least, parents facing spina bifida, or any other birth defect, should be given correct information before being given the option to abort. Let me talk to the leaders of our support group. I’ll let them toss some ideas back and forth, and we’ll come up with a plan for how to get this law written and looked at. I’m excited for what this might bring about. You’ll hear from me again soon.

  – Connie Peterson

  Carissa took in a deep breath. Ms. Jenkins had told her that, if anyone could help, it would be Connie, and it looked like Connie was all in. This might actually become something.

  Chapter 38

  Connie Peterson drew in a long breath and remembered the day her son was born. Tears began to fill her eyes as she recalled the horrible things the doctor told her. He’d never walk. He’d never talk. He’d be fully dependent on her for the rest of his life, and that life would be a short one. He was twenty-five now. He was married, independent and, though not without struggle, he and his wife were expecting their first baby soon.

  Connie knew she had to help Carissa. She knew the same things she’d been told about her son were still being said today, and something had to be done. What they had told her wasn’t true twenty-five years ago, and it wasn’t true now. It was time that doctors caught up with medical technology and started handing out more realistic outlooks for these children. These parents and children deserved the truth. Connie opened up her long list of email addresses for all the individual leaders of each local support group chapter, and began to type a group email.

  Ladies and Gentlemen,

  I received an email today that both broke my heart and called me to action. I have attached a copy of it to this correspondence. I believe you will be on board with this young lady once you read what she wrote. I believe the story she tells is one that will be very familiar to most of you. Please share it with your local chapters and let’s help her get the ball rolling on this. I feel like it is past time to do something about this issue, and that we are the right people to handle it. I look forward to hearing back from each of you soon.

  – Connie Peterson

  Connie hit the send button and tried to move onto other things. She couldn’t wait to hear back from the leaders, but it would be days at least, depending on what day each individual chapter had its weekly meeting. This was exciting stuff, and she felt honored to be a part of it. She called her son John to let him know what was going on, and he was excited to get in on it, too.

  “Hello?” Connie heard John pick up on the other end of the line.

  �
�Hey, son, you’ll never guess what I’m up to! I think you’ll be excited.”

  “What’s up?” he replied, sounding curious.

  “Well, I received an email. You know Annabelle, with the little girl, Isabella, who has spina bifida?”

  “Yeah…”

  Connie couldn’t hold in her excitement. She took a long drink of her coffee and stood up from her desk, starting to pace. “Well, she received an email today from a young woman named Carissa who has spina bifida, too. Carissa is interested in taking a law to the Capitol that would change everything for babies with spina bifida. She wants to make doctors actually research current medical advancements before giving a prenatal diagnosis to new parents.”

  She paused to take quick sip of coffee. “They’d have to learn about the latest medical technology and how it’s helping before handing out a prognosis. It wouldn’t be the doom-and-gloom scenario that was handed to me and so many other parents. She wants these doctors to have to arm themselves with the truth. A true, up-to-date prognosis for these babies, handed out right from the start. What a difference it would make! How much hope would it give?” Connie finally sat back down at her desk, having unloaded all of her excitement into the phone.

  “That’s amazing!” John exclaimed. “I’m in for helping. Let me know what I can do.” Connie heard the sincerity in his voice.

  “Okay, I will. For now, son, just pray,” she said.

  “I’m on it! I love you, Mom. Keep me informed.”

  “I love you, too.” Connie hung up the phone and again tried to occupy her mind with something other than Carissa and her cause.

  Chapter 39

  Waiting for Isaac to pick her up for their dinner date, Carissa sat in the white wooden rocker on her front porch, too excited to stay in the house.

  He had called earlier in the week and invited her out, and she couldn’t wait to tell him in person about the emails she’d exchanged with Annabelle and Connie. She knew he’d be excited, too. She only wished she could tell Betty at the same time, but that could wait. This night was for Isaac and her.

  She saw him pull around the corner onto her street, her excitement threatening to bubble over. He turned into the driveway, getting out to help her with her chair, and she got into the front passenger seat.

  “Hey, I’ve missed you,” he said, lifting her chair into the car.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she replied. “Where’s dinner?”

  “I thought we’d try that Italian place by the mall,” he grinned. “You into that?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “I’m into anything with tomatoes and garlic!”

  “That’s my girl!” He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and shifted into drive.

  As they headed toward the restaurant, Carissa sang every song that played on the radio. She wasn’t normally comfortable singing with other people around, but there was something comfortable about Isaac. She could be her goofy self around him and not care that he saw the real her. She snuggled into that secure feeling. “I have something to tell you, but you have to wait until we get to the restaurant,” she told him.

  “Uh, oh…” he replied, jokingly.

  “It’s not bad!” she assured him. “But I’m not telling until we get there because I’m too excited. It has to be a face-to-face conversation, not a car trip talk.”

  “Okay!” He glanced over at her with a big grin. “If you’re excited, I’m excited!”

  They pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and Isaac got Carissa’s chair, setting it next to the open door for her. She slid into the seat and they went inside. There was a short wait, but it wasn’t long before they were seated. Carissa was glad for the promptness; she’d almost blurted out her secret before she wanted to.

  “Okay, what do you have to tell me?” Isaac asked, sliding into the chair opposite her. If she was excited about something, he wanted to be in on it.

  “Oh, gosh,” she said, “you know how I’ve been saying I want to change things for people with spina bifida, right?”

  “Yep. Got that,” he replied. It was one of the first things he’d learned about her, that she wanted to change things for people like her. He’d fallen in love with her passion for making the world better.

  “Okay, so I’ve been thinking.” She leaned across the table, her eyes bright with intensity. “Who are the most vulnerable people like me? Babies, right?”

  “Um… I don’t think we’ve been dating long enough to be talking about babies,” he joked.

  “No, you goof! Not OUR babies! Babies with spina bifida!”

  “Oh,” he laughed. “Okay. I’m back in.”

  She continued, serious now. “Well, when I was born, my parents were told a lot of awful things about me that weren’t true. You know that. I’ve told you how they said I wouldn’t live, and I’d be mentally challenged and all that if I did live.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded.

  “Well, those things are still being said today about unborn babies. Doctors are handing out false, outdated information and, in a lot of cases, parents are choosing abortion based on that information.”

  Isaac waited, listening for what she wanted to say.

  “Well,” she said, “I’ve decided to do something about it. I wrote to all the people your mom put me in contact with and one emailed me back this week. Her name is Annabelle Jenkins. She has a daughter with spina bifida, and her daughter’s story matches my story. Annabelle’s an assistant of some sort in the governor’s office, and she’s on board for helping me make a law. She forwarded my email to a friend of hers, who is apparently a big shot leader of a spina bifida support group. That means lots of support and voices for the cause. Isaac, this could get big. I really could be about to change things!”

  Isaac was astonished. He knew Carissa was a firecracker, but he didn’t see all of this coming. “I’m so proud of you! How can I help? When will you know when and how to take the next steps?”

  “I don’t know. Connie said she’d get back to me when she heard back from the leaders of each individual chapter of the support group, so I guess we just wait for now.”

  “Then I’ll wait with you. This is exciting! You’re gonna be famous,” he said, her enthusiasm firing him up.

  “Okay, calm down. I don’t know about famous,” Carissa replied.

  “My girlfriend is going to be famous,” Isaac told the waitress as she came to get their drink orders.

  “Is that so?” the waitress asked, joking back with him. “Well, what would you like to drink then, ma’am? I wouldn’t want to disappoint future fame!”

  “Coke is fine, and my boyfriend is crazy! Ignore him,” Carissa replied.

  “Aren’t they all? And what can I get for you to drink, sir?” she asked.

  “Coke is fine with me as well, thank you,” Isaac said.

  The waitress went to get their Cokes.

  “It’s too bad we’re not older,” Isaac told Carissa. “This is really more a wine occasion than a Coke occasion, but Coke will have to do.”

  Carissa laughed. “Coke is perfect.”

  They ordered their food, lasagna and salad, and dreamed out loud about the day Carissa would be able to get her law passed. Isaac promised to be there with her every step of the way.

  “You make me happy,” he said, putting a forkful of noodles, beef and sauce into his mouth, “and anything that makes you happy, I’m into it.”

  They finished their meal, each of them stealing bites off the other’s plate, and finally decided it was time to leave the almost empty restaurant before they got kicked out.

  Isaac paid the bill, and they exited into the warm night.

  “Do you want to go sit on the beach?” he asked.

  “Um… well… my chair… it doesn’t maneuver on sand too well.”

  “Let me worry about that. Do you want to go?” he repeated.

  “Sure, I guess, if you think you can handle it, macho man!” She loved his spontaneity and fun spirit.
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  “I’ve got this!” he yelped. “You just get in the car!”

  “Yes, sir, whatever you say!” she replied, unsure if he knew what he was getting himself into.

  She had gone to the beach once when she was little. Her chair sank down into the sand immediately, and she hadn’t been able to propel anywhere. Her parents ended up carrying her the whole day. It wasn’t fun for anyone. She loved the water, though, and the sound of the waves. She just hoped Isaac understood that the beach was not built with people like her in mind. She got in the car, however, and they made their way down to Galveston Island.

  When they arrived, Isaac parked the car on the sand overlooking the water. The moon made light crystals on top of each tiny wave. Isaac came around to get Carissa, but left her chair in the back seat.

  “Hey, my wheels!” she protested.

  “I’m your legs tonight,” he said, gently lifting her out of the car. Then he took her just to the edge of the water and sat her down in the sand.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” Carissa said.

  “I know. Everyone should experience it,” he agreed.

  They sat in the sand for a long time, building castles. Isaac, at one point, started on a different shape.

  “What are you making?” Carissa asked. “That’s not like any castle I’ve ever seen.”

  “Texas snowman,” Isaac replied.

  “A what?”

  “Texas snowman.” He grinned mischievously. “You’ve never heard of it? I mean, we don’t get snow, so… this is our version. You need to get to the beach more. You’ve been deprived of a true Texas tradition.”

  Carissa laughed at him and threw a small handful of sand his direction. “You’re such a goof! That’s not a real snowman.”

  “Hold on tight!” he yelled at her, scooping her up, running toward the water.

  “I can’t swim,” she cried.

  “That’s what you get for making fun of my snowman!”

  “My clothes!” she half-yelled, half-giggled at him.

  “Oh, well, my snowman didn’t deserve that. You’re going in!”