February, 2019.
Ashley was pregnant with our second child. We attended a routine ultrasound. Cohen, our oldest son was with us. On the car ride there, we argued about baby names and about the sports our second son might play. There were jokes about our house being overrun with boys.
How insignificant those things actually are.
The ultrasound tech told us there was something wrong. She wouldn’t give much detail. We knew it had something to do with his brain. I wasn’t the supportive husband you see in movies. I wasn’t the great father you hope you’d be in that moment, entertaining Cohen. I gave him a screen of some sort and went crazy in my mind, being rude and short with everyone while we waited for the doctor to explain more.
The doctor told us that she was “so sorry to tell us there was an abnormality” and that there was too much fluid in the brain. She handed Ashley a box of tissues (comforting?) and told us this was out of her realm and we’d need to see a specialist. She made it sound as though walking, talking and intelligence were a dream for our baby not to give up hope. We both lost it…we already loved him so much. We were sobbing. Cohen stared at us as we sobbed. He had no idea what was going on. We called their grandparents on the way home and they agreed to take him for the night.
The next few months leading up to Britton’s birth were D A R K. We had no answers, ever. Specialists only told possibilities and none of them seemed promising. We had never experienced depression like this. There was no such thing as being comforted.
Eventually, the fluid stopped increasing, hardened, and became a large cyst on the left hemisphere of his brain, which had caused damage. We didn’t know what life was going to look like, and we were terrified. We tried to keep things as normal as possible, and we tried to be as excited as we could for Britton. Ashley was awesome throughout it, and although she was also very scared, she was always talking about how Britton was moving inside of her letting her know that he was okay. She had faith & hope and I tried, but I didn’t compare to her.
Britton was born on May 2nd, 2019. I had joined several Facebook groups previously searching for help or any answers – and I remember one of those groups having a few people that said their baby never cried after being born and the brain damage was so extensive that their babies had more troubles than I’m able to list. When Britton was born, we heard the most beautiful sound in the world - crying. We were so happy to hear him vocalizing.
The next few days were a whirlwind. He had scans, MRI’s, EEG’s and any other test you can think of.
Britton had a large cyst in his left hemisphere, high possibility for seizures, abnormalities on the brain such as PMG and would have routine appointments to keep track of his development. We were released to go home after about 6 days and a prescription for an anti-epileptic drug to hopefully keep seizures away. He hadn’t had any yet, but the doctors were worried that he would and wanted us to start them as a preventative measure. We did.
🧠June 2020: Nightmare #2🧠
June 11th – We were sitting at my sister’s new house and we were eating dinner, outside and that thing that we had been fearing for over a year, happened. A month after his birthday, he started doing something strange that he had never done before. He was having a seizure – it wasn’t a grand mal seizure that you hear about. He was still looking at us, interacting with us and trying to do things but something was DEFINITELY going on. He was weak, his head was leaning to the side, his breathing didnt seem normal, his arm was twitching and you could tell he was terrified and not feeling well. We took him to the emergency room. Soon, we were at Norton’s. This seizure was followed by another in October. Soon they increased in both severity and length.
But they weren't regular seizures - his seizures are different. Britton has refractory epilepsy, which means they aren’t able to be controlled by medication. We witnessed our baby have a 2 hour long seizure, with no rescue medicine able to stop it.
With a typical seizure, paramedics are to be called after about 5 minutes if the seizure does not stop. Our sweet baby has sat for 120 minutes in a seizure. Four different rescue medications were given in an attempt to get it to stop without success, on top of the four daily medications he was on at one point. He has been in many ambulance rides & we’ve called 911 too many times. We have been in the hospital where Neurologists told us that a medically induced coma was the next step.
Refractory Epilepsy - a type of epilepsy that medicine could do nothing for. The type of seizures he has are called partial-complex focal seizures. Basically, his seizures were happening in one area of the brain and hadn't spread (yet). They were intense, but somehow he was able to partially talk and interact during them.
We found out soon after that this is a very promising thing.
Refractory epilepsy was robbing our baby and our family of a normal life. It made relaxing at home or simply watching a movie non-existent. We did not feel comfortable leaving Britton anywhere for any amount of time. I remember one time finally feeling brave enough to go exercise while Ashley went to the grocery store - 30 minutes later we would be sitting with EMS, deciding whether or not we should be going to the hospital again for this seizure.
Like any other parent, we were desperate to find a solution. Seizures of this lengh and magnitude meant that death from epilepsy was an actual possibility. We traveled all across the midwest to areas like Le Bonheur hospital in Memphis Tenessee, Cinicnatti Childrens Hospital, and Norton Childrens searching for answers.
Cyst Fenestration
Britton's first brain surgery was a "simple" one, if you can call brain surgeries simple. It was called a Cyst Fenestration - an attempt to avoid a shunt, and alleviate some of the fluid that accumulated in his ventricles. This happened in February of 2020.
Hemispherotomy
Britton's second brain surgery was in September of 2021. This was called a functional hemispherotomy. This is a highly complex surgery that’s reserved for the most severe cases of uncontrolled epileptic seizures coming exclusively from one side of the brain. The surgery disconnects the right and left sides of the brain from one another. When the healthy side of the brain is separated from the damaged side of the brain, seizures can no longer travel across the corpus callosum (the band of nerves at the top of the brain that connects the two hemispheres) and disrupt healthy brain activity.
Shunt Placement
Britton's most recent brain surgery was October of 2022, and was a shunt placement. a shunt is a hole or a small passage that moves, or allows movement of, fluid from one part of the body to another.