The Life of Sawyer

We adopted two babies who were shaken.  This is the victim witness letter for our oldest child that I wrote; it was read in court for the perpetrator’s sentencing.  The victim witness advocate read it; she cried in court when she was reading it.  I hope this will help anyone who needs to write a victim witness statement.    

Good Afternoon,

My name is Vicki Black; I am one of Sawyer’s moms.  

I want to tell you a little about our beloved Sawyer.  

Sawyer was shaken at 3/12 months.  We picked Sawyer up from Las Niño’s hospital in Phoenix on December 16, 2014.  He was our first foster child. 

We agreed to take Sawyer a month before he was discharged from Phoenix Children’s Hospital. During that time, we received multiple phone calls from the DCS investigator that he might not make it.  His injuries were very severe; his seizures were uncontrollable with medications.  When we picked him up, we immediately went to a scheduled neurologist appointment.  The neurologist began educating us on what happened to Sawyer and how to care for him.  Even though I am a nurse, I was overwhelmed emotionally.  It was hard to hear the neurologist talk about the devastation that occurs in the brain from being shaken.  It was hard to look at the MRI.  

When Sawyer was shaken, his brain bled.  He was shaken so hard that his eyes detached from his brain.  Sawyer is legally blind.  As a direct result of being shaken, he has cerebral palsy, global developmental delays, a history of seizures, feeding difficulties, chronic constipation, cortical vision impairment, chronic sleep disturbances, communication difficulties, and the inability to do anything for himself.   He grinds his teeth so severely that some have been capped and others will need it soon. Capping his teeth requires a trip to the Operating Room and anesthesia.  He is often in pain because his muscles are spastic; when he has spams, he hurts.  He has multiple spasms every single day.  

Sawyer is totally 100% dependent on someone else to meet his needs.  He is four and he cannot do anything that other four-year old’s can do. I do not often let myself wander down this particular road because I do not want to focus on negativity, but it is my responsibility to tell his story.  It is my sacred duty to stand up and talk for Sawyer. He cannot do it himself.  Think about it – a four-year-old who cannot do one thing for himself.  It is tragic.  It is overwhelmingly heartbreaking. 

The first few months that Sawyer was in our home, he had to be soothed continuously.  He had to be rocked, swayed or held.  He cried a soft hurt cry that alerted us to his discomfort if we put him down.  His cry at that time reminded me of a little mewling kitten.  I remember hours and hours of walking, rocking, swaying and soothing.  If he fell asleep in our lap, we would literally sit there for hours until he woke up again.  The neurologist recommended that we touch him, talk to him and stimulate him a lot. Everyone in our home took that task seriously.  That Christmas is a blur because we absolutely devoted every second to him and his needs.  

When Mr. Jackson shook Sawyer, he gave him a lifelong sentence.  We believe that Mr. Jackson, in turn, deserves a lifelong sentence.  He robbed Sawyer of everything – his physical well-being, his birth family, his culture – everything  -- his future is not the same as it should be and it never will be; that is the harsh reality.  Sawyer should be playing, getting ready for kindergarten, annoying his siblings, tending to sheep, learning his Native Navajo language and being a daily part of his family.  He should be laughing and getting into a little bit of mischief.  Instead Sawyer attends therapies – Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speech Therapy, Vision Therapy, Feeding Therapy, Water Therapy, Horse Therapy; he has multiple specialists appointments.  In addition to a pediatrician and a dentist, Sawyer sees a neurologist, a gastroenterologist, a neurosurgeon, a vision specialist and an orthopedist.  He takes six medications daily; we give him medications three times a day.   Those specialists will never not be a part of Sawyer’s reality.  The medications are a permanent daily part of Sawyer’s life.  He has to be put to sleep every three months so that he can have Botox injections in his hands and legs.  These injections help reduce a little of the rigidity that he has.  Each time he goes under anesthesia, he suffers from severe constipation.  Every time he goes under anesthesia, I worry because I know the risks.  I know untoward things can happen in an Operating Room.  I despise the fact that he has to be put to sleep every three months. 

A typical day for Sawyer begins early – he does not sleep well.  He cries out when he wakes up and he is given a sippy cup of pediasure – we hold the cup for him.  He cannot hold it himself.  We try to get him back to sleep, but we are not always successful.  It is not unusual for him to wake up at 1 or 2 am and not go back to sleep.  After we get him out of bed, he is fed in a feeding chair; he takes his medications and then he goes to school or  to appointments.  When he is home, he uses his special equipment for cerebral palsy.  He has a stander, a gait trainer and a little room that is designed specifically for children with cortical vision impairment.   Sawyer wears braces on his hands and feet.  These things are not very comfortable, but again Sawyer will wear these the rest of his life.  This is his reality. 

On March 21, 2018, Sawyer had bilateral hip surgery because his right hip was dislocated 30% and he was in pain because of it.  Hip dislocation is common in babies who have been shaken.  Shaken babies do not bear weight, walk or run like other children their age; therefore, the hip dislocates. The surgery is major for anyone, but for a three-year old it was incomprehensible.  The surgery was 5 1/2 – 6 hours – they were some of the longest hours that I have ever experienced. Postoperatively, he stayed at Phoenix Children’s Hospital for three nights.  It is an understatement to say that Sawyer was miserable. 

Sawyer cried and cried for months after this surgery.  He would not eat. He had to be put on Duocal – a nutritional supplement that we put in his sippy cups.  He literally looked like a concentration camp survivor because he lost that much weight.  He has yet to gain it all back.  He was in a lot of pain and had to be on narcotics for several months.   Narcotics exacerbate constipation.  He cried pretty much continuously for 3 1/2 – 4 months.  He hurt.  He was confused.  He did not understand why had to wear an orthopedic pillow and leg braces 24/7.  He wanted to move his legs.  He wanted to be held the way that we always held him, but it was impossible to do with the pillow and brace – and the absolute need to keep his hips from further injury.  His skin broke down because he was super thin to begin with and bony prominences have a tendency to break down when one is not able to move freely.  Sawyer has hardware in his body because of this surgery.  We know he will need further surgeries.  

Someone asked me if we wanted restitution; initially, the question caught me off guard, but I have had time to think about it.   Yes, Sawyer deserves restitution.  He has to have a 24/7 caregiver.  We need a wheelchair vehicle for him.  We need an accessible home for him.  He will need specialized equipment all of his life.  We need a communication device for him.  Anything that is for special needs children is very expensive and not everything is covered by insurance.  Your Honor, I ask that you award Sawyer restitution. I do not know what to ask for, but please award him as much as possible.  Stem cell research is promising in patients with cerebral palsy, but it is very expensive and not covered by insurance. His life is worth so much more than any amount of money, but I must be realistic. He has tremendous needs and will always have those needs.  And, sadly, his needs will only increase as he gets older.   

Mr. Jackson took Sawyer’s life from him.  Sawyer deserves justice.  He cannot speak for himself.  I must speak for him.  As one of Sawyer’s mom, I believe that Mr. Jackson should be locked away forever so that no one else is ever harmed from him.  I won’t celebrate whatever sentence you decide, because there is really nothing to celebrate.  Mr. Jackson hurt Sawyer irreparably.  And he permanently hurt Sawyer’s family and his own family.  He will have to live with that the rest of his life.  I don’t feel sorry for Mr. Jackson.  He is an adult who lost his temper and took it out on a helpless 3 1/2 month old infant.  This is the part that hurts me the most – Sawyer almost died and no one – no one – called 911.  Can you imagine how Sawyer felt - the pain that he endured?  He must have been so confused and so hurt.  I cry every single time that I think of him being hurt and his pain and confusion.  He was totally helpless and the adult who was supposed to care for him shook him and caused all of the issues that Sawyer has to deal with on a daily basis for the remainder of his life.   His issues are permanent; they are life long and they are debilitating.  

We do not allow anyone to talk negatively about Sawyer and his prognosis in front of him.  I do not even allow myself to think about it much because it paralyzes me.  But, I think it is important for the court to hear some of our fears. We have so many goals and wishes for Sawyer; he is very  motivated and works hard every day.  He tries hard, but his body has been significantly damaged. We honestly do not know if he will ever be able to walk, to see, to talk or to gain any independence whatsoever.  We do not know if he will ever be able to shower or toilet himself.  We are not complaining; we do not mind taking care of Sawyer.  It is our sacred duty. But, we want so much more for him than what he is currently capable of doing.  Honestly, we want for him to be a typical child.  He will never be typical.  He will always have special needs. It shatters our hearts. The other thing that I think about often is his life span. It will be shortened because of his physical issues.    

I am grateful that I had the opportunity to tell a small part of Sawyer’s story.  We love him to the moon and beyond.  He did not deserve to be shaken.  No baby does.  

Thank you for listening.