Raising Maisie May

The day before Maisie's surgery, she was admitted into the Barbour Ward at the Royal Belfast Hospital for Sick Children and we were introduced to the surgeon who would be carrying out the operation. The surgeon spoke clearly and directly when describing the procedure of removing not only the tumour but also Maisie's left kidney. As she spoke there was an air of confidence and positivity in her tone and although we had only just met, I was already confident in her abilities as a surgeon. Her tone however changed when she began to tell us the possible risks that came with the surgery and when she finished she presented us with a piece of yellow paper. It was a form that required a signature of consent in order for the surgery to be carried out, and in that moment I realised that we had a choice. We could pick Maisie up from her hospital cot and we could run. We could run far away from the hospital, run far away from this life where cancer was taking over, far away from major surg

On the Monday morning when we woke the sky was blue and the sun was shining, almost like the universe knew that we needed it to be a good day. With Maisie due to be admitted to the hospital the next day we were keen to spend one last day with her like a 'normal' family. One last day where she still looked healthy and happy, and where she didn't have the physical mark of surgery sketched forever on her perfect little body as a constant reminder of the battle she faced. One last day where we were all together and all enjoying life. We didn't know what way the surgery was going to go, how she would recover, or what scale of treatment awaited us following the surgery. There was so much that would be happening in the week ahead that we would have no control over and we knew it was going to be difficult, stressful and emotional. But what we did have was that one day. I wanted to embrace it, enjoy it as much as I could and create the happiest of memories so that no matter what