Baby Addison’s journey with cancer:
The fraternal twin is recovering from her third round of chemo
A fraternal twin, she is now recovering from a third round of chemotherapy
Four tiny fingers hook around your pinky, two wide eyes stare up in unblinking wonder and a rumble of warmth spreads along your forearms. You’ve been placed under Mother Nature’s most tremendous spell.
Whether mum, dad, aunt, uncle, cousin or close friend, the powerful bond formed over a bottle of breast milk is undeniable. Looking down at one of the newest precious arrivals to our world, contently contained within the curvature of your arms, you reply to their wonder-filled eyes with unspoken words delivered through a time-worn gaze: I can protect you, no matter what.
Six years ago I found myself living in Vietnam’s capital, Hanoi, where I’d serendipitously been gifted part ownership of a motorcycle tour business. This British man’s thoughts couldn’t be further from dummies and dirty nappies (that’s soothers and diapers to you fine folk) when in blew a sweet, maple-leaf lady.
To say Canadian Kaleigh changed my world would be an understatement on par with “the Tiger-Cats are all right.” Not two months later, we were moving to Canada together, then a year later moved to Hong Kong and were soon receiving news that our lives were about to again change forever. Not one, but two little dough balls had begun baking in the oven — Kales and I were to become aunt and uncle to twins.
In all honesty, at that moment, I didn’t much like the idea. Brennah and Josh were due to visit us in Asia, and this would no doubt get in the way of our fun. But as I soon grew to realize, parenthood does not limit frivolity, it evolves the way in which you access it.
Seven months later, we followed via regular text update as Brennah and Josh completed their ninemonth metamorphosis into mummy and daddy. Twins Addison and Sophia were born July 21, 2017 and lit up their world for two whole days before the family was plunged into darkness. Sophia contracted a life-threatening infection that saw her snatched from the home cradle and locked in intensive care for seven days.
Little did any of us know, this tough week at McMaster Children’s Hospital was but a gentle prelude in comparison to the tale that would unfold
within the same sanitized halls 12 months later. Perhaps even at that very moment, cancer was stealthily taking a firm grip inside Addison’s innocent body.
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“No diapers” — I made that crystal clear before we met the little Lawlor ladies eight weeks into their lives. They can throw up all over me but soon as that waist bag fills with waste this uncle is off in desperate search of a diaper-changing-trained adult.
After a month of living in their east Hamilton home, watching these helpless, pooping, screaming machines grow into helpless, pooping, louder screaming machines, I found it hard to say goodbye. What magic moments would Kaleigh and I miss during three months of scuba instructor training in the Caribbean? In some ways, it was hard to leave at the end of September.
For many long-term travellers, Christmas at home is a luxury not often afforded. But, to give news of our engagement in-person and see the babes beginning to roll, Kales and I opted to splash out on experiencing their first holiday season.
By now, the girls’ budding personalities were clearly splitting down paths as opposite as their fraternal features. Sophia, with her brooding brown eyes and light brown hair, would wiggle and scream her way out of anyone’s arms, while Addison’s striking blue eyes seemingly never scrunched in fuss.
Under a blanket of snow, our love for the twins tripled before Kaleigh and I again took to travel the open roads of Central America.
Before we knew it, two important festivities approached. First, the twins celebrated a year around the sun by smashing cake into their faces at a garden party. Soon after, we came together at the Dundas Valley Conservation Area on a summer day to celebrate Kaleigh and I becoming a married couple.
When I look back now, that day seems to last forever. I see the twins smiling, together, in the golden glow of late afternoon as their world danced happily around them.
Setting off for a year or so of honeymooning and dive instructing, my newlywed wife and I had no way to tell that just weeks later we would pull ourselves back to Canada in support of adorable baby Addison, as she fights through a half-year of chemo treatments that will see her McMaster-bound until well after Christmas.
When I look back now, that day seems to last forever. I see the twins smiling, together, in the golden glow of late afternoon ...