A Tribute
Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 2:16 pm
Hey all,
As som eof you know, and most dont, my daughter Lillian Isabella arrived on 6th May, with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. Unfortunately, after a hard fight for 10 days, and some precious moments, she passed away in my arms on 16th May.
I hope people dont mind, but I would like to share my Eulogy which I wrote in that days after her passing, and read at her funeral.
A truly heartbreaking time, and one that puts things into perspective.
Lillian Isabella Woolcock
Firstly, Thank you everybody for your attendance today and for all your love, prayers, and support for us and for our daughter Lillian. The kindness we’ve received from friends, family, medical professionals, and even strangers has truly given us the strength to endure and grow and smile these past weeks. I have been told on many occasions that Lillian has touched the lives of many people, many people whom we have never met.
Lillian Isabella arrived into the world on 6th May with a bit of a commotion to say the least. In the end, it took 16 hospital staff to delivery her safely, some 10 weeks earlier than planned. She flailed her arms around and got a quick cuddle with her mum before she had to be rushed away for ventilation. Shortly after I was allowed to go in and see her. The first thing I noticed was this steely determination behind her eyes. She didn't seem in any distress or discomfort, but more preparing herself for the fight that undoubtedly lay ahead. In that first brief meeting, she completely took my breath away.
Lillian would live for a little over 10 days. In that short, sweet time, she taught us much about herself.. She blew bubbles and scrunched her face up whilst she was trying to have a little cry, because she hated having her mouth care done. She didn't mind people stroking her to comfort her, but she clearly preferred the touch of her mother. She gripped our fingers with a passion and I was sure this was to let us know she hadn't given up on the fight. She was ticklish, especially in her little feet, just like her Leanne. Leanne formed an instant bond with Lil, I guess because they were like two peas from the same pod. Both unbelievably stubborn to say the least! Leanne was a shining example to the other mums on the unit. She would learn why the nurses were doing what they were doing, learn what all the number on Lillians screen meant. Other parents might stay for 15 or 20 minutes – one night Leanne sat by Lillian's side for 12 hours – if there was anyone that helped Lilly fight for those 10 days – it was Leanne.
For 10 days solid we sat with Lillian, talking to her, singing to her, completely in awe of such a brave, yet frail individual. On day one we were told that its was probable Lillian would not live through the night. But day after day, she continued to beat the odds, continued to fight back, and continued to sustain our hope that one day, we would be able to take her home with us. The fact that she made it to her operation was a miracle, but it was the operation which would reveal just how serious Lillian's condition was and the reality began to hit home that the fight might just be too much for Lil.
When we had only just got to say hello, we soon found ourselves preparing to say goodbye. On the night of the 16th May we made the decision no parent should have to. We just wanted all those wires to disappear, we wanted all this medication to stop, and we wanted to hold our baby while she went to sleep for the last time. She struggled, but she made no expression of pain or misery, and neither Leanne nor I will ever forget those last moments of her life as we held her in our arms and wept and consoled her with seemingly insufficient words.
They say it is better to have met your baby, than grieve for someone that you just imagine, and I couldn't agree more with that. throughout those precious 10 days Leanne and I were able to hold Lils hand, talk to her, catch her sneaking a cheeky glimpse of us, and change her nappy. So in that sense, we were the most privileged people in the world to have met our beautiful, courageous young lady. Our love for her and her love for us was not constrained by time, nor is it now, nor will it ever be. Our love knows no time constraints. Indeed, our love knows eternity, and because our love knows eternity, our love will overcome her death.
As som eof you know, and most dont, my daughter Lillian Isabella arrived on 6th May, with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. Unfortunately, after a hard fight for 10 days, and some precious moments, she passed away in my arms on 16th May.
I hope people dont mind, but I would like to share my Eulogy which I wrote in that days after her passing, and read at her funeral.
A truly heartbreaking time, and one that puts things into perspective.
Lillian Isabella Woolcock
Firstly, Thank you everybody for your attendance today and for all your love, prayers, and support for us and for our daughter Lillian. The kindness we’ve received from friends, family, medical professionals, and even strangers has truly given us the strength to endure and grow and smile these past weeks. I have been told on many occasions that Lillian has touched the lives of many people, many people whom we have never met.
Lillian Isabella arrived into the world on 6th May with a bit of a commotion to say the least. In the end, it took 16 hospital staff to delivery her safely, some 10 weeks earlier than planned. She flailed her arms around and got a quick cuddle with her mum before she had to be rushed away for ventilation. Shortly after I was allowed to go in and see her. The first thing I noticed was this steely determination behind her eyes. She didn't seem in any distress or discomfort, but more preparing herself for the fight that undoubtedly lay ahead. In that first brief meeting, she completely took my breath away.
Lillian would live for a little over 10 days. In that short, sweet time, she taught us much about herself.. She blew bubbles and scrunched her face up whilst she was trying to have a little cry, because she hated having her mouth care done. She didn't mind people stroking her to comfort her, but she clearly preferred the touch of her mother. She gripped our fingers with a passion and I was sure this was to let us know she hadn't given up on the fight. She was ticklish, especially in her little feet, just like her Leanne. Leanne formed an instant bond with Lil, I guess because they were like two peas from the same pod. Both unbelievably stubborn to say the least! Leanne was a shining example to the other mums on the unit. She would learn why the nurses were doing what they were doing, learn what all the number on Lillians screen meant. Other parents might stay for 15 or 20 minutes – one night Leanne sat by Lillian's side for 12 hours – if there was anyone that helped Lilly fight for those 10 days – it was Leanne.
For 10 days solid we sat with Lillian, talking to her, singing to her, completely in awe of such a brave, yet frail individual. On day one we were told that its was probable Lillian would not live through the night. But day after day, she continued to beat the odds, continued to fight back, and continued to sustain our hope that one day, we would be able to take her home with us. The fact that she made it to her operation was a miracle, but it was the operation which would reveal just how serious Lillian's condition was and the reality began to hit home that the fight might just be too much for Lil.
When we had only just got to say hello, we soon found ourselves preparing to say goodbye. On the night of the 16th May we made the decision no parent should have to. We just wanted all those wires to disappear, we wanted all this medication to stop, and we wanted to hold our baby while she went to sleep for the last time. She struggled, but she made no expression of pain or misery, and neither Leanne nor I will ever forget those last moments of her life as we held her in our arms and wept and consoled her with seemingly insufficient words.
They say it is better to have met your baby, than grieve for someone that you just imagine, and I couldn't agree more with that. throughout those precious 10 days Leanne and I were able to hold Lils hand, talk to her, catch her sneaking a cheeky glimpse of us, and change her nappy. So in that sense, we were the most privileged people in the world to have met our beautiful, courageous young lady. Our love for her and her love for us was not constrained by time, nor is it now, nor will it ever be. Our love knows no time constraints. Indeed, our love knows eternity, and because our love knows eternity, our love will overcome her death.