I have a son who should be the light of my life, but every day, it is getting harder to love him.

You see, my son isn't like most kids. My son is six, but he is more like a newborn infant: that is, he doesn't do anything but lie there on the floor or in his crib; he can't take care of himself, and he requires 24-hour medical care.

My son was born brain damaged. The doctors said it was an accident, but they accidentally dropped him after he was born, and now he is severely handicapped. I am still trying to sue the doctor who did this to him; he is still in practice, and it sickens me whenever I think of it.

At the age of six, my son is totally wheelchair bound (he will never walk), and he has to be strapped into his chair if he wants to sit up; he can't do it by himself. If he did, he'd just fall right on over. He can't eat: he is tube-fed by a tube in his belly; we feed him four to five times a day, to try to get needed nourishment to his thin, waif-like body. He is not toilet-trained: he wears diapers; he can't even go to the potty by himself.

My wife works part time; I did work, but was laid off. All my waking hours are spent with Andy, caring for him, making sure his needs are met. I need a break, but it doesn't look like a break is coming anytime soon. Between caring for Andy and the other two children (Tyler, nine, and fourteen-year-old Gianna), my schedule doesn't permit much in the way of free time. Now the other two children are healthy, but they get jealous of Andy because we spend so much time with him.

I hear Gianna mutter that she hates her little brother, and I hear my younger son say that he wishes he'd never been born. Of course, this hurts deep; I love Andy with all my heart and soul. He is a beautiful child, a child who was cruelly stamped with the mark of cerebral palsy/brain damage, a child who has had a rough start to life--and continues to struggle even now.

I try to be positive regarding Andy's situation, but when he gets sick or messes up his diapers, or throws up after a feeding, it's hard to deal with, especially on a daily basis. It seems that every month or so he ends up in the hospital because he caught a cold or pneumonia again, and I am tired of dealing with his ever-increasing medical bills.

Maybe it would have been easier had we placed Andy in an institution, so we could get back to the lives we had prior to his being born.

God, how I miss the old days. How I miss the vacations, the sporting events, the time spent with Gianna and Tyler, even my wife. Now we are saddled with a disabled child, and with all his crushing needs, our lives are quickly unreaveling fast. I feel so alone, so helpless; I wish there were others who knew what I am facing!

How does a guy put up a severely handicapped child up for adoption? I am seriously considering this; I can't handle it anymore! I am past the breaking point!