Today is Laila’s 21st birthday
Laila was a loving child with a delightful attitude and a welcoming embrace. I loved returning home and seeing her with her nose stuck through the security gate, squealing with delight and laughter that I was home. In hospital she would be so happy to see me and would always welcome me. That is how I think of her.
She was an unexpected gift and one I will always treasure.
I have visions of how she looks, and of her and Aidan, together.
I think Aidan wanted a sister from the time he took his first breath. That desire was constantly made known especially to Santa on his present list.
When I told Aidan he was going to have a sister, he beamed with happiness. That delight never abated and it was wonderful to watch the two of them together and the love they had for each other.
My life’s journey has been strewn with difficulties, but one of the most difficult was having to tell Aidan that his sister was sick, and then a few months later that she was going to die.
The Doctor had talked to me when Laila was diagnosed with Aplastic Anaemia. She said Laila had a 50/50 chance of survival and if the time came that we were being unfair to the child and being selfish, she would tell me.
In the early hours of Christmas morning 1997, I was woken by a telephone call, urging me to get to the hospital soonest. When I got to intensive care they had put Laila on a ventilator. Her doctors decided to try a procedure they had not attempted before on a child, as a last hope that her body would allow itself to heal.
I drove to see Aidan and arrived before breakfast. Instead of celebrating Christmas and opening gifts I sat and told Aidan, his father and granny that we had to prepare for the worst and that Laila might die.
It broke my heart to see Aidan weep with such pain and anguish.
We had a week together in intensive care.
I usually arrived at the hospital about 6-ish and would sit next to Laila so that I was there when she woke up. On the 31st of December during ward rounds, her Doctor sat beside me and said it was time.
And so began those dreaded calls that I had to make. Explaining that I had made the decision to take Laila off the ventilator and to let her be.
I invited all those close to me, and to Laila and Aidan, to share the time if they so wished. We arranged to be together at 3pm. The Doctor agreed to have Laila taken back to her ward room that she knew, and which we had made into her own.
Whenever Laila had spent time in hospital, we always put photos on the wall: her own blankets on the bed, her pillowcase, her toys and her favourite doll, plus beautiful fresh flowers.
I was questioned if I was making the right decision, but I knew in my heart that she was tired, as she had bitten me a few nights before, something she would never do. But she was frustrated.
She had tubes everywhere, she could not lie on my lap and I could not lie with her. Everything she wanted was too hard… her eyes would bore into mine and my heart would hurt.
We took her off the ventilator and onto an oxygen tube that sat under her nose, her oxygen bottle on the bed and we wheeled her to her room where those that loved her waited.
The nurses put Laila on my lap and removed the oxygen. I held her quietly and just looked at her, whispered to her and loved her. Aidan sat beside us and the room was full of love, memories and sadness. I will be eternally grateful for the support and love we were shown that day.
Time passed and Laila just breathed softly until she breathed no more.
My beautiful 11 year old boy who held his sister when she was born – who said hello and welcome to the world – was now a witness to her passing.
I put Laila onto Aidan’s lap and let him love and hold her, and to say goodbye.
Laila Vaun Rip – the bestest daughter and sister
Born 9 January 1995 – Died 31 December 1997 – Buried 6 January 1998
Time does not heal, it just helps you to keep breathing…
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