From Lily-Mae’s mum Judith:
Let me tell you a little about Lily-Mae.
Leighton & I were told we couldn’t have children & had just started investigations into our options, when we found out I was pregnant.
For 9 months I battled a combination of severe morning sickness & gestational diabetes. Most women gain weight when pregnant, I was less than 7 stone the day after she was born.
Lily-Mae didn’t want to be born on her birthday. A horrific induction, a long labour, a tremendous amount of stitches, it was all pretty grim…
And then I held her.
Love isn’t nearly a big enough word. From the moment her massive blue eyes looked into mine, my life completely changed. I understood what love truly is, everything fell into place, and my life had a purpose. I had made this amazing tiny person and, as it does to every mummy, it seemed like a complete miracle.
7 days later, I was back in hospital with a breast abscess. The doctor’s exact words to me were ‘it’s not cancerous’.
I fed Lily-Mae myself for 16 months, I carried her in a sling all the time, and she slept in our bed from the day she was born.
Her middle name ‘Sunni’, perfectly defines her. She has the sunniest nature; she is the cleverest, brightest, sweetest, funniest little person I know. Her little brother worships her completely.
Then she got cancer.
And as if that wasn’t horrific enough, she got neuroblastoma, stage 4.
I have been criticised on Facebook for how public I have been & for my concerns regarding relapse. To those who criticise me, if you could walk in my shoes for one day & live with the fears & the knowledge that I have, you may comprehend. But you cannot walk in my shoes, only the other parents whose children have this disease can understand.
‘You & me fit together like a jigsaw Mummy, I love you more than words can say’, that’s what my little girl says to me every night, before she delicately kisses me all over my face.
My daughter could be the next Beethoven, the next Einstein, the next Margot Fonteyn; I don’t care what she is, as long as she lives.
I have led a privileged life on stage, touring the world, dancing amazing roles & now directing two successful ballet companies. I would amputate my legs in a heartbeat, if it meant it would cure her cancer. But it will not, only medicine & a miracle will.
Make ‘Tiny Dancer’ number 1 for my girl this Christmas, so one day, I hope, a long, long time from now, I can tell my girl what an amazing thing this country did for her at Christmas 2012.
Love isn’t nearly a big enough word. From the moment her massive blue eyes looked into mine, my life completely changed. I understood what love truly is, everything fell into place, and my life had a purpose. I had made this amazing tiny person and, as it does to every mummy, it seemed like a complete miracle.
7 days later, I was back in hospital with a breast abscess. The doctor’s exact words to me were ‘it’s not cancerous’.
I fed Lily-Mae myself for 16 months, I carried her in a sling all the time, and she slept in our bed from the day she was born.
Her middle name ‘Sunni’, perfectly defines her. She has the sunniest nature; she is the cleverest, brightest, sweetest, funniest little person I know. Her little brother worships her completely.
Then she got cancer.
And as if that wasn’t horrific enough, she got neuroblastoma, stage 4.
I have been criticised on Facebook for how public I have been & for my concerns regarding relapse. To those who criticise me, if you could walk in my shoes for one day & live with the fears & the knowledge that I have, you may comprehend. But you cannot walk in my shoes, only the other parents whose children have this disease can understand.
‘You & me fit together like a jigsaw Mummy, I love you more than words can say’, that’s what my little girl says to me every night, before she delicately kisses me all over my face.
My daughter could be the next Beethoven, the next Einstein, the next Margot Fonteyn; I don’t care what she is, as long as she lives.
I have led a privileged life on stage, touring the world, dancing amazing roles & now directing two successful ballet companies. I would amputate my legs in a heartbeat, if it meant it would cure her cancer. But it will not, only medicine & a miracle will.
Make ‘Tiny Dancer’ number 1 for my girl this Christmas, so one day, I hope, a long, long time from now, I can tell my girl what an amazing thing this country did for her at Christmas 2012.
Myself and my daughter Emma (who is also 4 1/2) are always thinking of Lilly-Mae. She is so lucky to have such wonderful people around her who will help her through his horrendous time. Thinking and praying for Lily-Mae xxx
Your post, My Lily-Mae's by Judith Sibley » The Sunni Mae Trust, is really well written and insightful. Glad I found your website, warm regards from Christopher!