A different tale to tell

We have news - Ollie is a big brother to Charlotte Grace Roebuck. Charlotte burst onto the scene 2 weeks early at 1158pm Tuesday 13th September. Karli has a story to tell, but I'll leave her the opportunity to regale you all when she gets out of hospital. She is doing well though, and in much better shape than after Oliver.

Charlotte weighed 2.41kg (5lb 5oz), 46.5cm long, 32.5cm head circumference. She has spent her time in the neonatal nursery so far. Initially she needed some help with her breathing, but is now keeping warm and receiving some precautionary IV antibiotics. We hope to see her move into a normal crib tomorrow, then up to our room the next day. If not, we will probably go home Saturday and hopefully bring our new little bundle home on Sunday or Monday.

Ollie has been staying with Nanna and Grandad (lifesavers). He came in to visit today and was very upset that he wasn't able to give his little sister cuddles and kisses, and that we weren't all going home together. The present Charlotte bought for him helped calm the waters. He continues to be an amazing little man.

I'll go now, as I'm having troubles with my connection, but I'll be in touch again soon.

A proud mum with a content little girl.

An anniversary - of sorts

It has been exactly 3 years since Oliver was first diagnosed with cancer.

I have been aware of this day approaching over the past week and at times have felt quite teary about it. Today, strangely, I completely forgot about it until now. First, a picture that speaks a thousand words.


Our little boy is so far from cancer today that it is hard to believe he was ever sick. You can tell he is a strong, robust, beefy, HEAVY, joyful, cheerful, cheeky, happy, loving little boy. He is such a blessing to us, and continues to bring joy and happiness (coupled with the expected 3 1/2 year old trials) into our lives.

And yet, he is not far from cancer. On Wednesday we go back in for another check-up, and as cliche as it may be, I love to see peoples reaction to how he has changed since they first met him at 8 months old. Each time I change his clothes, the scars around his chest remind me of his treatment. A couple of nights ago Ollie prayed for Angel Immie. And of course, my current studies reflect this change of course in our lives.

The reality is that we juggle this dichotomy - in one sense, we don't want him to be reminded, or even educated given what he may remember, of what he went through. We don't want him to think of himself as 'the kid that had cancer', or to limit himself in some way because of his lymphoma. We don't want cancer to define his life. And yet, it is what it is, and cancer has become a major driver in our lives. I want him to understand what he has been able to overcome, and what others have valiantly fought. I want him to understand the meaning and hope he brings into our lives, and maybe to the lives of others.

I can look back on Oliver's cancer, with him being where he is now, and identify all the positives that have come from it. The friends we have made, the lesson's we have learnt, the adventures we have been involved in, the changes it has brought in our lives, the relief we see when people hear his story - and I can almost say it has brought good in our lives.

But only because he is where he is. If he were still sick, still fighting, still enduring chemotherapy, maybe radiotherapy, maybe a bone marrow transplant, maybe a last ditch experimental effort. If we were considering more comforting measures, having lost any hope of cure. If we were trying to celebrate his short but wonderful life. Then all these things - the friends, the lessons, the adventures. They would all mean nothing to me - because I would have lost one of my dearest treasures; a piece of my heart would have been permanently carved away; I would give up all the friends, the learning, the adventures, to have that which I miss the most back in my arms - back laughing and giggling, and being disobedient and drawing on the walls, and snoring peacefully, and waking at ungodly hours, and bringing great pride and great embarrassment.

And so I sit here, three years after my amazing little boy began a victorious 12 month fight against cancer, and I celebrate his life - and the joy he continuously brings to our lives.

And I weep for my friends who have lost their children in this short time, and for those who I may not know so well, but who's loss weighs heavily all the same.

To Angel Immie, Angel Evie, and Pirate Angel Elliot - we miss you and what you may have been in our lives.

To Fiona & Jason, Kody, Ashton and Nic; to Michelle & Alison; To Rick & Emily, Hudson and Harry. We think of you often, and we will never forget what you have lost.

WOW - it's been so long

I finished my last blog by saying I'd be back soon. I don't think 5 months ranks as soon in anyone's vocabulary. Sorry for being so slack. I've had great intentions, but the motivation has been severely lacking.

A lot has happened over the last 6 months. I'll briefly let you know what, and elaborate over coming entries - I promise.

Since my last entry, Ollie has had his 3rd birthday; celebrated Christmas at his Uncle Jarrad's house with Aunty Aimee's family as well (and he was very spoilt - as he should be ;)); spent a long hot summer in Nanna and Grandad's pool; he has begun attending a playgroup on Wednesday mornings at the local pre-school; Karli has enrolled him in kindy for next year; swimming lesson's on Saturdays; a new synthetic lawn for him to play on in an unused area of our backyard was put in Tuesday; and he continues to take his regular 3 monthly check-ups in his stride.

For Karli and I, nothing much changes in our lives - well, nothing that seems as interesting to report. I'm still working and studying, and looking forward to a change in both in the coming 12 months. This year will be my last at uni. I am waiting on a reply from Hollywood Hospital regarding an application for a graduate program there. Karli is being a fabulous mum, keeping our little man in line and showering him with love.

Sadly, the little boy who was the impetus behind the Mont Blanc Project last year passed away in February. Elliot was such a battler, possessing so much of his parents strength, courage and determination. Thanks to his mum and dad, Emily and Rick, Elliot's name will be linked with many advance's in childhood cancer treatment in the years to come.

We do have a little bit of news - we hope to have a new addition at the end of September. Oliver is pretty keen to have a little sister. This evening, before he went to bed, he sang 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star' to Karli's tummy and gave the baby a kiss - such a gorgeous little boy.

Here are some photo's of our ever growing little boy. We'll be back soon.

Snuggling with mum.

I love playing in dirt!

Swimming lessons.

Like my hat?

Doing a puzzle with mum.