I fidgeted for much of last Thursday. I couldn’t sit still, I felt sick with worry. Ant and Flic were at the hospital. Their baby was on the way.
I cried tears of relief when Anthony phoned to tell me the baby had arrived safely. If the past five years have taught me anything; it’s the universe doesn’t much care about your carefully laid plans.
I cried again when Ant said that he and Flic had decided to name their son David John Cootes in honour of our brother David.
We spoke briefly. I marvelled at how besotted Anthony sounded at his baby son and how proud he was of Flic’s valiant labour to bring their boy into the world.
But she was crying because she’d really wanted a girl.
On Friday we loaded our clan in the car and headed to Brisbane to meet the newest member of our family.
Those of you who have been with me from the beginning and have shared our sadness over the David we lost, will understand our unbridled joy at welcoming Baby David.
I’ve felt a shift in my grief since Baby David’s arrival.
Isn't it marvellous that so much joy be wrapped into such a tiny package?