Mitchell was born on February 3rd, 2000, as was his twin sister, Madison.  They were a month premature but weighed 6lbs and 5lbs. 1oz. respectively.  The twins were not a planned pregnancy but were lovingly welcomed by my husband, John, myself and our two older daughters, Kate and Kelsey.

Throughout their first year, Madison progressed more quickly than Mitchell.  We did not seem to be alarmed at first because everyone says, boys develop slower than girls.  As Mitchell was our first and only boy, we didn't suspect anything to be wrong.

Approaching their first birthday in February 2001, with Mitchell still lagging behind his sister, I scheduled an appointment to take him to the Grandview Children's Centre in Oshawa for testing.  The pediatrician there thought it would be best if referrals were made to a neurosurgeon as Mitchell's head had the same circumference as an adult.  They also ordered some blood tests because he seemed a little lethargic and pale.  The blood testing showed he was severely anemic and they put him on an iron supplement right away.

While we were waiting for the referral, the week prior to Easter 2001, Mitchell spiked a fever over a five day span.  After taking him on a couple of occasions to our local clinic, I was assured that it was just a virus.  Not satisfied, I took him the following week to see the pediatrician who he had not seen since their six-month check up as our family doctor was following their progress. Dr. Laifatt felt his stomach and was concerned that his liver was enlarged.  He sent us directly to our local hospital where we were admitted and scheduled for an ultrasound.  They told us that the ultrasound would not likely be until the next day so my husband went home with our other children.  Little did I know that Mitchell would have his ultrasound soon after my husband left.  The technician seemed to take a long time with the ultrasound and then went to get a doctor who then took us to another, more sophisticated machine for another ultrasound.  When she was done, she turned to me, patted me on the leg, and said that Mitchell had a very large tumor in his abdomen.  No words can express the pain and fear I felt at that moment.  All the while, Mitchell was his usual happy, smiling self.  I then had the task of calling my husband on the phone and telling him.  We were devastated and now placed our son in the hands of the doctors.

We went to the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto on April 19th, 2001 where we stayed for an initial period of six weeks while Mitchell's tumor was biopsied and other testing completed.  The doctors told us he had a Stage III Neuroblastoma, which is a tumor on his adrenal gland, above his right kidney.  It was approximately two pounds in size.  Mitchell underwent a procedure to insert a port into his chest whereby the IV and other medications could be run.  After an infection, he needed to have a central venus line inserted into his chest.  Both of these procedures were done by the surgeons at HSC.

We started our protocol, which was to be four rounds of chemo, stem cell harvest, surgery, radiation and stem cell transplant.  If all went well, we would be done by November 2001.

Mitchell became immune to the first form of chemo and we became aware that the tumor had sprouted on September 7th, 2001 (our tenth wedding anniversary).  We then had two more rounds of a different chemo only to find that it wasn't working either.  By November 2001, he had developed another tumor between his lungs, which was pushing up on his bronchial tubes.  We radiated that tumor for five days and the next CT showed it was "gone".

Throughout his treatment, Mitchell learned to walk and was quite the sight running up and down the hospital corridors with me pushing the iv pole behind him.  He always had a smile on his face and blew kisses to all the nurses.  He would even bat his eyes at them.  He was such a flirt.

Still trying to reduce the size of the original tumor, we started a third type of chemo in November.  By December 9th, we were concerned because Mitchell was waking at night screaming in pain so back to Toronto we went.  We were informed on December 10th (my 35th birthday) that they thought Mitchell had a perforated bowel and he needed immediate surgery.  Later that night, he had his surgery, only to be unsuccessful in that they could not locate the perforation without disrupting the tumor. So there was my baby, with a twelve-inch scar down his belly, a chest tube to drain blood and a catheter, all for nothing.  It would be weeks before I could hold him and he was somewhat comfortable.  The next few weeks were spent trying to get him weaned off the chest tube, the morphine and the catheter.  By New Years Eve, Mitchell looked so small and frail and seemed to be pleading to us with his eyes to let it all be over.  We had a CT scheduled for that day and it showed that the tumor between his lungs had come back larger than before.  The doctors told us that he maybe had between 24 and 48 hours left.  Our initial reaction was to get him home but then we thought that wouldn't be wise or fair to the other children who would have to live in the house where he had died.

So, John and I sat by his beside and the nurses and doctors kept him comfortable.  I was finally able to hold him and I held him in my arms until he passed away at 11:20 p.m. on New Years Eve 2001.

He is now our little angel in heaven.  There isn't a day that goes by that we don't think of him and miss him terribly, especially with his twin sister running around the house.  We can't help but wonder what our lives would have been like if he were still with us.

Each day the hurt eases a bit but it will never go away. We miss you so much "boy-o-boy" and can't wait to hold you in our arms again.  You touched so many people in your short time with us.  You will never be forgotten.

Love Mommy, Daddy, Katie, Kelsey, Madison