Only weeks after Millie Smith and Lewis Cann learned they were having twin baby girls, they learned that only one would survive.
On April 30, after 30 weeks of a high-risk pregnancy, Smith delivered identical twins, Callie and Skye, the latter who lived only three hours.
Later in neonatal intensive care unit (NICU), Callie slept without her sister in the incubator, with her loving and grieving parents watching over her. In the unit with other babies, an overwhelmed mom of healthy newborn twins innocently told Smith that she was “so lucky” to not have two babies.
Crushed by the words, the new mom couldn’t find the words to explain her loss. Then, she realized that Skye’s legacy was to help other families who lose a child, and it came in the form of a purple butterfly.
In November 2015 Millie Smith and partner Lewis Cann found out they were having their first Child. Smith, who has twins in the family, said she had a “gut feeling” about having a duo and 10 weeks later, doctors confirmed she was expecting identical twin girls.
Less than two weeks after the excitement of knowing they would double the children in their home, the British couple were devastated to learn that one of their babies had a fatal condition and wouldn’t survive after birth.
“During the scan, the doctor didn’t say anything. I was very excited and loved seeing the little babies, but she was silent. Both Lewis and I immediately knew there must be a problem,” Smith said.
Doctors shared the news that one of the babies had anencephaly, which according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) affects about one in 4,600 babies across the U.S. It’s a serious birth defect where a baby is born without parts of the brain and skull, and “almost all babies born with anencephaly will die shortly after birth.”
Knowing that one baby would die soon after birth, and that there were risks involved for their other baby, the couple decided to move forward with the extremely high-risk pregnancy.
Over the next several months, Smith and Cann named their twins Skye and Callie. “We knew that Skye needed to have a name before she was born,” Smith said. “Knowing she would only survive for seconds or minutes, I wanted her to be named during that time.”
The meaning behind “Skye,” she explained “was somewhere we knew she would always be, that we could look up at the sky and remember our baby.”
When Smith went into labor after only 30 weeks on April 30, she needed an emergency C-section. To help navigate the loss, the couple had a “bereavement midwife” during the birth, and they were put I a special room the called the “Daisy Room,” where families can spend time with a baby before and after she/he passes.
“When the girls were born, they both cried. This was a huge moment, as we were told that Skye would not make a noise or move,” said Smith, who was thankful to have three hours with Skye before she died. “We were cuddling Skye when she passed away. This was the worst moment in our lives. I have never ever felt heartbreak like that before. But I am proud that she fought for so long to spend time with us.”
Born premature, Callie had to stay in NICU while she gained some strength and also in the unit were three other sets of twin.
“Most of the nurses were aware of what had happened, but as time passed, people stopped talking about Skye. After about four weeks, everyone acted as though nothing had happened, meaning the families around me had no idea about our situation,” Smith recalled.
One morning, a stressed mother whose twins were also in NICU, harmlessly said to Smith that she was “so lucky” to not have twins.
“None of the other parents knew what had happened or anything about Skye. The comment was completely innocent and more out of humor…They weren’t to know that I did at one point have two.” Smith continued, “But the comment nearly broke me. I ran out [of] the room in tears and they had no idea why. I didn’t have the heart to tell them what had happened. A simple sticker would have avoided that entire situation.”
It was in that moment Smith realized she had to create something that would speak for parents who had just lost a baby, ensuring the misunderstanding never happens again.
She designed a poster for the NICU explaining both hospital personnel and visitors that any incubator with a purple butterfly on it means that one or more babies, in a set of multiples were lost.
“I chose butterflies, as I felt it was fitting to remember the babies that flew away, the color purple because it is suitable for both boys or girls,” said Smith.
The purple butterfly concept–now under the Skye High Foundation–has spread to hospitals in several countries around the world.
Callie is now a lively, happy seven-year-old, and twin’s memory lives in purple butterfly cards along with other initiatives to help families with babies like Skye all over the world. The purple butterflies now come in numerous forms, like ornaments, cards, blankets, stuffed animals and more.
“Ultimately I will never be able to stop this from happening but the more support groups we can set up and put things in place like the stickers the better it will be. It’s the hardest thing anyone has to deal with,” Smith said.
My Son and His Wife Dropped off My Grandkids on New Year’s Eve Without Warning – It Was the Last Time They Ever Did
When Linda’s son dropped off her grandkids on New Year’s Eve without warning, it wasn’t the first time he’d assumed she was free to babysit. But after a night of missed plans and unanswered calls, Linda decided it would be the last.
It was New Year’s Eve, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I smoothed my hands over my new burgundy dress, admiring how it looked in the mirror.
A woman in a dress at home | Source: Midjourney
I’d been saving it for something special, and tonight was the perfect occasion. My hair was styled in soft waves, and the makeup I’d had done earlier gave me just the right amount of confidence.
“This is going to be a night to remember,” I said out loud, grinning at my reflection.
A happy woman smoothing her hair | Source: Midjourney
The evening felt so important. My high school classmates had planned a reunion dinner for the first time in years. At 60, time with old friends, laughing, reminiscing, and just being together felt precious.
I’d been counting down the days. Everything was planned: leave the house by seven, get to the restaurant by eight, and spend the night surrounded by people I cared about.
A smiling woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
I was finishing up my lipstick when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Jake’s name.
“Hey, Mom!” His voice was cheerful, as usual.
“Hi, Jake,” I said, still smiling. “What’s going on?”
“Listen, we’re driving over now. We’re dropping Jenni and Lily off for a few hours. Just till midnight!”
A smiling man talking on his phone while driving | Source: Midjourney
I froze. “What? Jake, I have plans tonight. I’m going to the reunion—”
“It’s only for a little while, Mom. We’ll be back before you know it!”
“Jake, wait, I—”
But he hung up before I could finish. I stared at my phone, my chest tightening.
A concerned woman looking at her phone | Source: Midjourney
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered, glancing at the clock. It was already 6:30 p.m.
A few minutes later, I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway. I rushed to the door, hoping to reason with him.
“Hi, Mom!” Jake called out, stepping out of the car with Jenni in tow. Amanda followed behind, carrying Lily, who clutched her favorite stuffed animal.
A woman carrying her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Jake, I can’t do this tonight,” I said firmly. “I’m supposed to be at the restaurant by seven.”
“Don’t worry,” Jake said, waving his hand like it was no big deal. “We’ll be back before midnight, I swear.”
“You don’t understand,” I insisted, my voice rising. “This isn’t fair. I have plans—”
A woman in a dress talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
“We left snacks in their bags, and they’re already in their pajamas,” Amanda cut in, smiling like she was doing me a favor. “They’ll be no trouble at all. Thanks, Linda!”
“But—” I started again, but Jake hopped back in the car.
“Love you, Mom!” he called as the car sped off.
I stood there, stunned. Jenni and Lily looked up at me with bright smiles.
Two happy sisters | Source: Pexels
“Grandma, can we watch cartoons?” Jenni asked, tugging on my hand.
I forced a smile, though my stomach was in knots. “Sure, sweetheart. Come inside.”
I settled them on the couch and handed them the remote. As they giggled over their favorite show, my phone buzzed again. It was a message from Cathy.
“The place looks amazing! Can’t wait to see you. Sending pics soon!”
A woman texting on her phone | Source: Midjourney
My heart sank. A few moments later, the group chat started filling with photos—everyone was there, beaming, glasses raised in toasts, tables sparkling with candles and decorations. They all looked so happy.
I sat down at the kitchen table, staring at my phone. The excitement I’d felt earlier was gone, replaced by disappointment and anger.
“How could they do this to me?” I whispered, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes.
A sad woman sitting at the table | Source: Midjourney
At 11 p.m., I tucked the kids into bed. They fell asleep easily, but I couldn’t relax. I tried calling Jake, but it went straight to voicemail. Amanda’s phone? Same thing.
Out of habit, I opened Instagram, and there it was—a story from Amanda. A video of her and Jake at some fancy party, clinking glasses with friends, laughing, and having the time of their lives. The caption read: “Ringing in the New Year with the best crew!”
People having fun at a party | Source: Pexels
My jaw tightened as I set my phone down. Midnight came and went. I sat alone in the dimly lit living room, scrolling through more messages and photos from my classmates, trying to focus on their happiness instead of my own frustration.
By the time I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway, it was 3 a.m. I sat up straight on the couch, my heart pounding not from relief, but from anger.
An angry woman in a burgundy dress | Source: Midjourney
Jenni and Lily were still asleep, tucked under the blanket I’d laid over them hours ago. The sight of their peaceful faces momentarily softened me, but the frustration bubbling inside wouldn’t go away.
I stood, smoothing my hands down the dress I’d been so excited to wear earlier that evening. Now, it was wrinkled and felt more like a reminder of the reunion I’d missed.
An angry woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney
The front door opened, and Jake and Amanda strolled in, laughing softly. Amanda had her heels dangling from one hand, her makeup smudged from the long night. Jake’s shirt was untucked, his hair disheveled, but his grin was as carefree as ever.
“Hey, Mom!” Jake called cheerfully, as if they hadn’t left me stranded all night.
“Hi, Grandma!” Amanda added, waving like nothing was wrong.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
I folded my arms and stared at them. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” My voice was calm, but my anger simmered just below the surface.
Jake shrugged, unbothered. “Yeah, sorry about that. Our friends wouldn’t let us leave. You know how it is.”
“No, Jake,” I said, my tone turning cold. “I don’t know how it is. I don’t know what it’s like to abandon my responsibilities and assume someone else will pick up the slack.”
An angry woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney
Amanda sighed loudly, shifting her weight to one foot. “Linda, it was just one night. Can we not make this into a thing?”
“Oh, it’s a thing,” I said sharply. “A big thing. You dropped your kids off with no warning, ruined my plans, didn’t answer your phones, and then show up at three in the morning like it’s nothing. Do you even understand how disrespectful that is?”
An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney
Jake hesitated, like he wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance. I stepped aside and watched as he walked over to pick up Jenni, who stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Amanda grabbed Lily, holding her close as she gave me a tight-lipped smile.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jake said sheepishly, shifting Jenni’s weight in his arms.
A man holding his smiling daughter | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t respond. I just opened the door and watched as they carried the kids to the car. When the taillights disappeared down the street, I locked the door behind them, leaning against it for support.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the anger didn’t subside. Instead, it settled into something firmer—resolve.
“This is the last time,” I whispered to myself.
A tired elderly woman | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I drove to their place and sat them down at the kitchen table. Jake and Amanda were visibly tired, probably from their late night, but I didn’t care.
“We need to talk,” I began, my tone steady. “What you did last night was unacceptable. I missed my reunion, my plans, everything I’d looked forward to for weeks. You two need to reimburse me for my dress, my salon visit, and the money I prepaid for the dinner.”
A serious woman sitting in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Are you serious?” Jake asked, his eyes wide. “Mom, that’s petty.”
“I’m dead serious,” I replied. “This isn’t just about the money. It’s about respect for my time and my life.”
They eventually agreed to pay me back, though they grumbled about it the whole time. I set another boundary, clear and firm: no more last-minute drop-offs. They needed to ask first, or I wouldn’t be available.
An annoyed couple | Source: Midjourney
They pushed back, but I didn’t budge. By the end of the conversation, I felt empowered, determined to reclaim my time and dignity. They didn’t like it, but they reluctantly agreed.
A week after New Year’s Eve, the doorbell rang unexpectedly. I peered through the window and saw Jake and Amanda, the kids in tow. My stomach clenched. Not again.
A couple with their kids on the porch | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my phone and hesitated for a moment, guilt tugging at me. But then I remembered the reunion, the photos I’d missed, and the way they’d brushed off my feelings.
I answered the call through the intercom. “Hi, Jake. I’m not home right now.”
There was silence before he responded. “What? Mom, we’re here with the kids.”
“I told you last week, Jake,” I said firmly. “You need to call ahead. I have plans.”
A woman in a green dress talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“But we’re already here!” Amanda chimed in, her voice tinged with annoyance.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you this time,” I replied. My heart raced as I hung up, leaning against the wall to steady myself. I heard muffled voices outside, followed by the sound of their car pulling away.
For the rest of the day, guilt gnawed at me, but so did a sense of relief. I had stood my ground.
A woman meditating in her bedroom | Source: Pexels
In the weeks that followed, something changed. Jake began calling before visits, and when they needed help, they asked instead of assuming. I even noticed Amanda being more polite during our conversations.
These small changes made a big difference. With clear boundaries, our relationship felt lighter, more respectful. I no longer dreaded surprise drop-offs, and I felt proud for reclaiming my time.
A confident woman at home | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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