I never knew

Until I had my Georgie there were a lot of things I didn’t know.

I had known of the pain of losing a child, I had actually followed Jennie’s blog and even blogged last Christmas inspired by her pain and sorrow on compassion and empathy. But that knowing had only been an onlooker’s knowledge and very weak attempt at sympathising.

I had known of people losing babies and children in the cruelest of ways: disease, sudden death, car crashes. But that knowledge had only been the understanding of an outsider looking into someone’s intimate struggle and intense pain.

And then, I had my Georgie.

He was born in January 2014, 9 days after my own birthday. He was the most angelic of babies, chubby and cuddly and content to breastfeed, unlike my Emma. I felt so lucky, so blessed, euphoric, despite the tiredness of those first hours and then days and the stress and anxiety of doing life with two small children.

Two weeks on, he started to fuss at feeding times and a restlessness, an unexplainable to me back then restlessness took hold of his wee body. He would have wriggled and tossed, not really crying but apparently in a lot of discomfort at times.

We took him several times to the GP, then to the A&E where he was put on reflux medication, based on a family history of baby reflux with Emma.

But then at Easter we started to notice these weird sweats at night, only around his head. He started running these mild fevers, again, mostly at night and then this upset stomach that looked so loose and made him so pale and tired…

Our nightmare began the week after Easter when Georgie stopped eating altogether. We rushed him to the hospital where blood tests were done and big words were uttered: severe anaemia, thalassemia, leukaemia. All within 48 hours of leaving our home with our sickly baby boy, we received the devastating diagnosis of AML, acute myeloid leukaemia and a very rare and aggressive subtype as well.

I never knew a baby can get leukaemia at only three months of age. I never knew what his chances were. But we decided to fight alongside him.

And fight he did, for two months and through two very intense rounds of chemo.

When I look back I know now that those months were lent to us with the sole purpose of getting to know Georgie and making memories with him.

The chemo helped with his pain and discomfort and revealed the most loveable, the most gentle, the funniest, the giggliest babies I have ever met.

He loved having people around, was nosey and loved singing.

He had the biggest, silliest grin and the most gentle of personalities.

My Georgie was a gem of a boy and as parents, we saw it as an extreme honour and privilege, the chance that we were given to look after him and get to show him love and devotion.

In June, we were told that the chemo was not working and that the doctors couldn’t do anything else for him. We moved in to the Northern Ireland children’s hospice where we continued to create memories with Georgie and Emma, under the loving care and supervision of a very professional and dedicated medical team.

Our Georgie passed away peacefully in our arms, embraced in Hillsong worship songs and oozing love on the 5th of July.

I never knew pain so intense, sorrow so deep, despair so unfathomable, longing so genuine, love so profound until we lost our Georgie.

Our lives have been moulded irrevocably by his loss. We will never be the same parents we were before having our precious boy. We will long for him, miss him, look for him in our faith and dreams and hearts until the day we meet again.

I now understand pain. I now know how it is to live without part of your heart and soul.

I could not find the words to introduce Oana and Georgie, a story of a gorgeous little boy taken so cruelly from an inspirational mother, an adoring family. Oana inspires me to keep my faith that one day Tilda and I will be together again.

The amount of time on earth matters very little: a man can live in greed and pride 90 years and never find God, know Him or accomplish His Plan. A stillborn baby on the other hand, teaches people to love, brings people to the Lord, teaches us the tenuous nature of life and teaches us a faith that those who have not suffered loss can never know. A child not even breathing for an hour, can have an impact greater than a famous preacher. The purpose of a life is not ours to decide nor in our hands: it is brought about by God
Author Unknown

You can read more of Georgie’s story on Oana’s own blog, Mama’s Haven, here