In 43 Days, a Future Shattered

"She said a terrible thing had happened, and Rafael is at Children's Hospital," Pearson said.

Rafael had suffered severe head trauma and was not expected to live, Pearson said. At the hospital, she saw a "cute" little boy hooked up to the machines that were helping him hold on to life.

"I was thinking he was going to die, and I had never met him," she said. She talked to the baby. Whatever he needed to do, live or die, he should do, she said. But if she had a choice, she told him, she wanted "a little miracle."

Soon, he didn't need life support. A few weeks later, he was moved to the HSC Pediatrics Center, widely known as the Hospital for Sick Children. There, the scope of his injuries -- and the limits of miracles -- came into focus.

Rafael had bled heavily around his brain and behind his eyes. An MRI showed that his cerebrum, the thinking part of the brain, was full of holes, where cells had died. The brainstem, which controls basic body functions, was not as badly injured.

So Rafael can breathe and swallow, and his heart beats. He can make sounds and respond to voices around him. But his condition is not expected to change.

A couple of times a week, he is taken from the nursing home to his grandmother's home, set on a large lot in a secluded corner of Fairfax Station. He eats ice cream and applesauce and yogurt, surrounded by his sisters, ages 2 and 6, absorbing the sounds of his family. It is the sort of love and comfort that Pearson hopes he will always have.

But she knows that at 54, she might not be around to provide it or even push for it, and that is why she ultimately hired two lawyers and plans to take the District to court in a civil lawsuit seeking damages.

She wants to know that Rafael will have the best possible care.

"He didn't ask for this," she said. "He didn't deserve this."