Freddie Freeman returned to the Los Angeles Dodgers early Monday afternoon, in the wake of a harrowing two-week stretch in which his 3-year-old son, Maximus, battled a rare neurological disorder, and saw new T-shirts adorning every locker. They were Dodger Blue, with Freeman's name and number on the back and the phrase '#MaxStrong' emblazoned on the front.

Moments later, all the Dodgers' coaches and players wore them during pregame workouts in solidarity with their star first baseman and his youngest child.

"That's the first time I cried today," Freeman said. "It means a lot."

Freeman's emotions returned during a 30-minute session with reporters as he detailed the pain of seeing his son suffer. Max was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome, a condition in which the body's immune system attacks its nerves, causing weakness, numbness, and, in Max's case, paralysis.

Max woke on July 22 with a slight limp and went into full paralysis four days later, prompting Freeman to rush home from a series at the Houston Astros. By Wednesday, doctors removed Max from his ventilator.

Five days after that, Freeman was back in the Dodgers' lineup for the start of a three-game series with the Philadelphia Phillies, playing first base and batting third. He finished 1-for-4 in the Dodgers' 5-3 win and was greeted by a long standing ovation before his first at-bat. The Phillies joined the applause from their dugout. The pitch clock was stopped as he stepped out of the batter's box, removed his helmet and waved to the crowd, before then touching his right hand to his chest.

"It made it really hard to hit in that first at-bat," Freeman told MLB Network on the field after the game. "When you're crying on a major league baseball field, it's really hard to hit a pitch coming."

Max spent eight days in a pediatric intensive care unit before being discharged Saturday. The next day, he began physical therapy.

Max's personality is back, Freeman said, "but he's got to learn how to do pretty much everything."

Most importantly, Max is expected to make a full recovery.

"He didn't deserve this," Freeman said. "No one deserves this, anybody who goes through this. It's not just my family. We were going every night, and every room is filled in the [pediatric ICU]. And that is heartbreaking. So many families are going through things like this. We're one of the lucky ones that got Guillain-Barré that he might have a full recovery. There are kids out there who are fighting for their lives right now. It just puts everything in perspective.

"I know Dodger fans don't like this, but I would gladly strike out with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth inning in Game 7 of the World Series 300 million times in a row than see that again. But he's on his way. He's on his way. It's going to be a long road."

The Fight for Maximus

Max went from a noticeable limp to being unable to walk on the night of July 22. Doctors initially diagnosed him with transient synovitis, a temporary inflammation of the hip joint's lining that is common in young children. By the next day, Max couldn't sit up.

Late on the night of July 24, Freeman's wife, Chelsea, contacted the Dodgers' clubhouse manager, Alex Torres, in a panic. Max wasn't eating or drinking and needed to go to the hospital. Manager Dave Roberts waited for Freeman in the dugout in the middle of the ninth inning of a game the Dodgers were losing to the visiting San Francisco Giants and told him he needed to head home. Doctors ran tests, put Max on an IV, gave him Toradol (a strong anti-inflammatory drug), and discharged him at 3:30 in the morning.

Freeman played in a day game the following afternoon, boarded the team's flight to Houston and awaited word from Max's follow-up appointment with his physician. The doctor told Chelsea that Max needed to be transported to the hospital immediately, prompting Freeman to rush to the airport and get the first flight back out to Southern California. Within 2½ hours, Max was on a ventilator to reinforce his lungs because the paralysis was affecting his diaphragm. He couldn't move any part of his body below his neck. Freeman found him in that state when he arrived at the emergency room at 10 p.m.

"I think a lot of us are parents in here," Freeman said, his voice cracking while he clenched a towel near his face. "To see one of your kids on a ventilator fighting ... it was hard."

Turning the Corner

Momentum began to turn the following morning. Doctors began a round of intravenous immunoglobulin -- a type of immunotherapy used as a first line of defense against Guillain-Barré -- at 6 a.m. Another dosage followed 13 hours later. Less than 10 minutes after that, Max began to shrug his shoulders, a major sign that he might be turning a corner. By last Tuesday, there was talk of pulling his ventilator; the following day -- at precisely 10:46 p.m., as Freeman recalled -- it happened.

Max sat on his lap moments later.

"I can't tell you how good that felt, to be able to hold my son again," Freeman said. "That was a special time, just knowing how hard he fought in those five days. You know, when he was born, we were trying to figure out a name; we had to name two kids at that time. Chelsea came upon Maximus. I'm like, 'That's a strong name.' I didn't know he was going to prove me true within four years of his life."

Freeman expressed equal parts sadness and relief on Monday. There also was gratitude -- to the slew of players and coaches throughout the industry who reached out, including Milwaukee Brewers manager Pat Murphy and his players, who sent a supportive video; to the Dodgers, who continually told him to take as much time away as he needed; and, most notably, to the team of doctors and nurses at Children's Hospital of Orange County.

"I'm here nine days after, and it feels like a miracle," Freeman said. "It really does. So, I can't thank them enough."

The Road to Recovery

The exact cause of Guillain-Barré syndrome is not known, and there is no known cure. Most patients make a full recovery, according to the Mayo Clinic, but some serious cases can be fatal. It can progress rapidly, making early detection critical.

Max can sit up on his own, which doctors have said gives him a good baseline for recovery. His hands are curled up, and he needs to relearn how to walk, but eventually, Freeman believes, he'll make a full recovery.

Freeman, understandably, didn't watch any of the Dodgers' games in Houston last weekend, keeping his attention fixated on his son and hoping for even the slightest twitch. He finally began to swing the bat again Tuesday morning, mostly to get loose after spending the previous four nights sleeping on a hospital couch. He hit off a tee again Thursday.

The next day, Freeman talked to Dodgers president of baseball operations Andrew Friedman about coming back. His return Monday prompted the Dodgers to designate infielder Cavan Biggio for assignment.

Freeman doesn't know how he'll handle playing, but his son's progress is giving him comfort.

"I'm here because things are better at home," Freeman said. "He is on his way for recovery. He's at home happy. I said, 'Are you excited to watch Daddy on TV tonight?' He said, 'Yes.'"

A Moment of Gratitude

Reflecting after Monday's game on the emotions of his first at-bat and the reception from fans, Freeman said, "I was doing OK tipping my hat and then my dad was sitting first row with my stepmom. He was, I don't know if I could call him crying, but he was choked up and teary-eyed, and that's what really got me going."

Freeman struck out swinging to end the first inning.

"It was one of the most pleasant strikeouts I've ever had in my big league career," he said.

Roberts said it was "really cool to see people rally around Freddie and the Freeman family."

Dodgers star Shohei Ohtani, who went deep in the eighth for his National League-leading 34th home run, added, "It was very touching."

The crowd chanted "Freddie! Freddie!" before Freeman singled in the third. Phillies first baseman Bryce Harper was waiting for him with a consoling embrace.

"Bryce probably texts at least four times during the nine days, really checking in," said Freeman, adding that every Phillies player who reached first during Monday's contest extended well-wishes to him.

"I'm tired and worn out," he said, fatigue evident in his voice. "It's just an emotional day."

Information from The Associated Press was included in this report.