Georgie’s death taught us many things about life, about ourselves, about each other. One thing we are adamant about now is making each moment count. Seeing Georgie getting so ill, so quickly and passing away a short two and a half months after diagnosis made us understand that life needs lived to the maximum each day, as there are no guarantees for the future. As I wrote in my previous post, the Children’s Hospice has been instrumental in us wrapping our minds around the reality of now. We have been adamant and intent in our determination to enjoy our lives and the country we live in and have made it into a goal to visit new places every time we can afford it financially and emotionally. So far this year, we have travelled to Bray, county Wicklow, we have driven to France and seen a bit of Normandy, Brittany and Provence, and we have enjoyed Armagh and Lisburn (more on its beautiful eateries and local crafted beer soon, in a different post). This weekend, Alex, …

Northern Ireland Hospice for Children have asked our family to be part of a very special series of events they will run in the weeks to come. The events will include a series of interviews with parents that have experienced a stay in the hospice with a sick or terminally ill child. A beautiful photo exhibition in the Belfast City Hall of children who have enjoyed or benefited from a stay in the Hospice. A speech address to dignitaries about the vital role the Hospice plays in respite and end of life childcare. Alex will speak in the city hall that day. Georgie’s name will resound in the same hall where so many important speeches and decisions have been made over the years. My mother’s heart is proud. My boy’s name will be spoken out loud and his story be known. But most importantly, the circumstances of his passing will hopefully inspire others to choose the hospice if faced with the unthinkable; to donate even more so that the place continues to exist and its …

Exactly one year ago tomorrow, my baby boy stopped eating. Within 24 hours, he had to be rushed to the hospital, from where he was never allowed to come back come. Within 48 hours, he would have had so many medical procedures done and so many chemicals pumped through his wee body that he would stop breathing and he would end up in the NICU. Hell on earth? Most definitely. It was. For us. But most importantly, for my little baby boy. The pain. The poking. More pain. More poking. Looking back, there is a number of things that torment me out of my skin. One of the worst? Paradoxically, not having been told the truth. We strongly suspect our very experienced oncology team knew from the very beginning that the chances of survival were slim. We also knew that realistically, God wasn’t going to perform a miracle and that Georgie was headed for the exit before he had even had a chance to start the living. But we chose to fool ourselves. We chose …