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The smile that saved me

Everything seemed so hopeless to me, until I saw you smile again...


Published by: Julie Cook and Amy Thompson
Published on: 15th March 2010

Dear Colin,
People often asked me how I’d cope when your little brother Connor came along.
Like you, he’d been born with no immune system and would have to spend his life on antibiotics to help fight off infections.
A simple cold could have killed either of you. How would we cope with twice the worry?
But me and your daddy Clinton, 22, just did.
We’d seen you through your first year, filled with endless hospital check-ups. Our hearts jumped into our mouths every time someone so much as coughed near you.
After a while, though, it baffled us how you could be so poorly when every day you seemed to get stronger and happier.
‘Carly! Come and see what our little man’s up to now,’ your dad called one afternoon, laughing.
Walking into the kitchen, you were sat in your highchair grinning and covered in chocolate sauce.
‘He tipped the bowl on to his head,’ your dad chuckled.
‘I bet you think that’s funny don’t you?’ I said with a raised eyebrow, fighting to hide my smile.
You nodded, laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
That smile of yours could always win me over.
‘Come on, cheeky,’ I giggled, lifting you out of your chair. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’
The house was always filled with laughter at the funny things you got up to.
So we never worried about how we’d cope with Connor as well.
Seeing you with your little brother made my heart melt.
You’d been so excited about him.
‘Play?’ you’d ask gazing up at Connor in my arms.
‘Connor’s too little to play at the moment,’ I’d smile, as you reached for your favourite Tigger teddy.
I could see the disappointment on your face but, instead of having a tantrum, you gently snuggled Tigger next to Connor, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
Then you flashed me the biggest, proudest smile.
I knew then you were going to be the best big brother.
Imagining you at school together, I smiled, thinking how you’d be there to help each other.
After all, who could understand what challenges Connor would face in life better than you?
You coped better than any of us.
I probably should have been falling apart, agonising over how much I should wrap you up in cotton wool.
What if you fell and cut your knee? An infection could spread so easily…
Instead of worrying, though, your smile always put me at ease.
‘It’s okay, Mum,’ you seemed to be saying with your big blue eyes. ‘Look, I’m fine.’
By the time Connor was two months old, we had another reason to celebrate – you’d gone a whole year without an infection. Not even a sniffle!
The antibiotics were working perfectly.
Tucking you into bed that night, you tugged on my hand before I kissed you goodnight. I laughed, knowing there was no fooling you.
It was our little routine to sing together each night, and you
hadn’t forgotten now.
‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star,’ you hummed happily.
When the song ended, you’d drifted off.
Stroking your blond hair, I softly kissed your head.
‘See you in the morning,’ I whispered, switching off your bedroom light as I tiptoed out
of the room.
But the next morning, you weren’t jabbering away in your cot, or playing with your toys as you usually did.
Even when I stepped on the creaky floorboard in the hallway, you didn’t sit up calling out to me.
As I leaned over your cot, I realised why…
‘No!’ I gasped, staring in horror at your pale, clammy face, your thin, blue lips.
Lifting you into my arms, your blue eyes rolled back, your whole body limp, like a ragdoll’s.
Panic gripped me as I called your dad.
It seemed to take forever for us to drive you to the hospital.
But then, all too quickly, you were being pulled from my arms.
‘What’s going on?’ I begged, as doctors swarmed around you, hooking you up to all sorts of drips and monitors.
‘He’s going to be okay,’ your daddy assured me.
Oh Colin, if only I’d known.
Doctors tried everything… but it was too late.
You died from meningitis the next day.
Your immune system wasn’t strong enough to fight it.
Holding your hand as they removed the tubes snaked around your tiny body, I thought the tears would never end.
‘Please… come back,’ I sobbed. It seemed as though my world had fallen apart.
Without you, how could I cope? How could I convince myself everything would be
all right?
I spiralled into a sea of grief.
Although, your little brother was crying for me, I couldn’t bring myself to see him.
Two poorly children I could deal with, at least I could look after you then. But what if I lost Connor, too?
I couldn’t bear to think about it. Instead, I let your dad and grandma take over. Maybe, if I distanced myself from Connor, I’d never have to feel pain like this again.
Almost two months passed. I barely ate or spoke.
Then, one day, I heard your daddy call from the kitchen.
‘Carly! Come and see this.’
Padding into the room, I looked up and froze.
Sitting in his high chair, yoghurt dripping down his face with a plastic bowl on his head was Connor – grinning from ear to ear.
For a moment, I thought I’d burst into tears at his smile, it was so like yours.
But, to my surprise, I laughed.
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt as I pulled Connor out of his high chair and wiped his sticky face.
‘I suppose you think that’s funny don’t you?’ I smiled. He nodded vigorously, still grinning.
Hugging him to me for the first time in months, I suddenly realised how stupid I’d been.
You were only two when we lost you, but you’d given us so many happy memories, Colin – enough to last a lifetime.
Even if I lost Connor, I owed it to all of us to create happy memories for him, too.
‘I promise,’ I whispered, kissing Connor’s wet cheek. ‘I’m never leaving you again.’
Connor’s now three and thriving. There’s not a day gone by that we don’t laugh together and sing at bedtime. And I always tell him stories about his big brother.
I used to imagine how the two of you would always look out for each other as you got older.
That hasn’t changed because I know, wherever you are, you’ll always be looking out for Connor, smiling that cheeky smile you both share.
It was that smile that saved me.
Lots of love, Mummy xxx
Carly Roskilly, 22, Portsmouth, Hampshire