2011

We named you the day I was wheeled out of the scan and up to delivery – that first day. We named you just in case something happened. We wanted you to have a name. I’ve always love the name Lucie. One of my favourite books is A Tale of Two Cities, and Lucie Manette is my favourite character. Some people see her as being a little bit weak in the second book, but I think they miss the point. She is referred to by Dickens as ‘The Golden Thread.’ The thing that ties her entire family together. She is fierce and loving. She fights for her family. So we named you Lucy. Aunty Shell points out that Lucy means light. She thinks its fitting, and so do I.

This morning Lisa was all a buzz she was preparing to go upstairs and find out if Archie had stayed overnight in the bassinet and if so, if he was able to be transferred. She misses her kids terribly, and one way or another she has to leave tomorrow. With or without him she has to return up the freeway to her home almost two hours away. She misses her older kids immeasurably, and needs to go home. Ever the realist, Nurse Diane comes in and gives her some paperwork for a request for accommodation in the hospital dormitories over the other side of the hospital. It’s not ideal, it’s a long way from Archie, and a really long way from their family, but she needs to be prepared. Two steps forward, one step back, Diane reminds Lisa. If today is a step back, he won’t be able to go home tomorrow.

She’s making small talk waiting for her husband to arrive and go upstairs together. She asks if your Dad is okay.

“Yes, I think so.”

“It’s really hard for the men. They aren’t here so they don’t know. He’s doing an amazing job of keeping things together.”

“Yes, I know. I wish he could understand what I know.”

“What’s that?”

“That she’ll be okay.” Lisa smiles knowingly.

“You just know?” She asks.

“Yes, I do.”

After she goes upstairs I drift off to sleep. I haven’t been sleeping well at all, it’s getting more and more difficult to get comfortable. Dad has bought in a little pillow of Lachie’s that is shaped like a rocket and sits nicely in the crook of my neck. I can’t sleep on my side, so its nice to at least be able to turn my head. But lying in bed has made me achy, and my sleep has become fitful.

When I wake up there’s a note from Lisa and two DVDs.

“Hi Kate. I didn’t want to wake you. Archie and I have been given the green light and a NETS team is waiting. We are going home! Thanks for everything. And all the best – Lucy will be fine, we both know it. I’ve left my address on the bottom of the letter. Call me – let’s go dancing once these kids are on their feet! PS, I’ve now watched these movies about ten times each and have no interest anymore. Thought you might like something new to watch as I’m sure you’ll be here a while. All the best. Lisa”

And just like that, you and I are on our own again. I’m so glad to have met Lisa, but I’m happy to have you all to myself again.

2014

A huge day. You and your brother decide you want to have ‘an adventure’ at the park. We are still in Canberra at Baby Liam’s party, (though your brother reliably and very seriously reminds me that he is now a toddler at 1 year old), and the sunshine is shining at Yerrabi Park. We feed the ducks, which are noisy and scare you a little, you climb to big kids climbing frame, because you are utterly fearless when it comes to such things, and we eat a picnic lunch which you declare to be delicious. Then we are off exploring, pretending to be dinosaur hunters in an unknown land of ice. I think its mostly Lachie’s idea, but you are happy to be brought along for the ride. Wanting to have your say, at the end of the adventure you ask Lachie if next time we can visit an snowy princess castle to find a dragon egg instead. It seems a fair compromise.

March 4