It’s hard to believe that you’ve only been with us for four years, Isla. From the moment you were born you completed our little family. We knew we were always meant to have you.
Severe reflux aside, you were a happy baby, a patient babe. You never really made a fuss unless you’re reflux was hurting. You were happiest being held and cuddled. We thought you’d be a quiet little thing who loved books.
You’ve turned into the brightest, funniest little girl. You are so caring and kind and your smile is like sunshine, which fits since your favourite colour is yellow.
But I wish I could say this day isn’t complicated for me.
It should be a simple day of joy, the anniversary of the day our family became complete. Yet, it is not.
I can still vividly remember the moment my consultant asked me when my last smear test was and the fear and dread that steeped into my blood for a moment.
“I’m due it next January, my last was clear” I told the doctor. “It’s likely just a polyp.” The doctor told me. Then added that I’d need to follow it up when the baby was born. I agreed.
I did follow it up. That moment was the start point for everything that followed. For me being diagnosed with cancer.
Now, to be totally clear: I do not in anyway blame Isla for what happened to me. I know most of the world will understand, but for those few who need to read it; there is is.
If anything, it is the opposite. I strongly believe that Isla saved me. If things had been left longer I could and probably would have had a very different experience. As it is we got to a death sentence that I managed to somehow overturn (for now at least).
But still, I hate that the worst thing that could have happened to me touches on you at all. That this big ugly black malignant mess even comes close to your rays of golden sunshine. I hate that I feel sad at times on a day where all I should feel is so deeply happy and emotional because you are so very big already and it has gone by too fast.
I’m sad because it took me from you, because while it all has gone down you’ve had as much time staying with Granny and Grandpas as you’ve had at home. That I was not your primary carer or able to do with you the same things I did with your sister.
That said I still could not be prouder of you and the character you have become, famous in school for your signature hair flip and brilliantly bright, wickedly funny.
So Happy Birthday Isla, thank you for saving my life and filling it with your sunshine x