Sydney’s Birthday

It’s been a grey week here in Minneapolis. The snow is melted, but what is left behind lacks color. There has been mist and fog in the air. The ground is brown, the remaining ice is grey. But, I know I’m doing well because despite the gloomy weather and dingy landscape, I have felt good. I’ve had energy, purpose and have felt alive.

Birthday blessings, sweet Sydney.

And today, no surprise to me at all, it’s SUNNY! Of course it is. It’s Sydney’s birthday. “Baby, sunshine for your birthday!” But really, she got the sunshine for me. She was my sunshine. She is my sunshine. I wonder, really, who is this day for, her or me? She was my gift, and this day is a celebration of her. She was the greatest. And she was all mine. This is my day, too!

I was in labor one year ago today. Sweet little Sydney was being “kicked out” at 41 weeks per a planned induction. I went out the night before with Katie to one of my favorite restaurants. I wore heels, jewelry and make up. I had a filet mignon and ate every bite, and our server treated us to dessert.

The day she was born was mild and sunny. The labor and delivery room had an open window, and a fresh breeze filled the room.

Within a couple of hours of her birth, I went upstairs to the special care nursery to nurse her for the first time. I remember holding that little baby in awe and wonder, looking at all that dark hair, and thinking, “she’s mine!” She was so sleepy and tired. And I wanted her to open her eyes to see what color they were. In the coming months, I would waken my sleeping baby often to see those blue eyes.

I have every memory of that day in my heart, I have Sydney with me always. I am happy. I am at peace. She is with me and at home, and I am in the city where she lived and died. That same breeze from her delivery room is in the air. A gentle wind that carries the promise of a good life and a beautiful spring.

Love,
Sylvie

If you have a concern regarding caring for a terminally ill child, Sylvie Stephens welcomes your questions.  Post your thoughts under comments or go to the Contact page to “Ask Sylvie.”

Tags: Sylvie Stephens, terminally ill child