Here’s an overdue announcement: On October 29th, 2014, this wondrous little person entered the world. Her name is Skye Florence. She is beautiful, calm and sweet. She is a patient darling, but doesn’t hesitate to let us know she’s unhappy if she needs to. I am glad that already she knows how to speak her mind.
Only six weeks ago, she was still floating in the private universe of mum and babe, and now is here, our long-awaited little sister. When you’ve been waiting for something for many years, it’s almost surreal when the day finally comes.
As with any momentous life event, the six weeks of her life so far have been a period of challenge and change. Skye is a night owlet who likes to keep Mummy up for hours on end in the wee smalls. I haven’t yet figured out how to convince her that sleeping at night is a good idea, but I’m sure she’ll learn soon that dark means rest. At the moment, we are having lots of good chats at 4 am every night, when she is wide-eyed and ready to party.
We have all been trying our best to keep things as “normal” as possible around here – trying to get Gavin to school on time, and figuring out the logistics of little sister tagging along to activities like swim lessons and ball hockey. It’s all definitely a work in progress, but she doesn’t complain much.
Skye is a healthy little babe, but has already had her fair share of appointments in her time on Earth. Because she was a breech baby, there are a few issues that we are following, most importantly that one of her hips may be slightly dislocated. This is simple to follow with ultrasound and will (I’m sure) resolve itself soon.
So she has been subjected to ultrasounds and some poking and prodding. But we have decided as a family not to pursue ultrasound or imaging of her head. My original intention was to do regular cranial ultrasounds while she is still little, but I now believe that going on the hunt for tumours cannot help us in any way. We hope with all the hope we have that our Skye will not have to suffer as Gavin has done. And so, we choose to believe that she is well and will continue so through the long years of her life. Holding on to faith and rejecting fear. This is the hard work I have to do every day, for both of my children, and trust me, there have been some moments at 4 in the morning when it’s hard to hold on.
She’s making it easy to believe in her. I had forgotten how amazing newborns are. How strong and resilient and yet how incredibly needy.
Skye is sleeping the day away, gearing up for another night’s festivities. As she sleeps, I watch her dreams march across her beautiful face. She smiles and laughs, obviously dreaming of something sweet.
I don’t know how I chose the name Skye for her – it just came to me one day, many months ago. But I know why it is the perfect name for her. Because I always want her to know how limitless her life is. How beautiful and ever-changing and yes, sometimes stormy. She’s inherited her middle name Florence from me and from my mother, and I give it to her as a good-luck talisman from her Mummy and her Bubby, in hopes that the fortune we have enjoyed will also be hers. I believe it will.