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 13-Year-Old Son Started Staying Late after School – I Went to Check Why and Saw Him Getting into a Convoy of Black SUVs
I worried when my spirited son Kyle started coming home later each day with vague excuses. When I checked up on him, I was shocked to see Kyle getting picked up by a convoy of black SUVs. I followed them to an imposing mansion, where I uncovered a shattering truth.
I knew something was wrong. All the signs were there: the late nights, the whisper of secrets Kyle kept locked behind a wary smile.
My thirteen-year-old son was my light and my purpose. No matter what life threw our way, we always had each other. We’d always been thick as thieves, taking on the world together. I guess that’s why his sudden distance cut so deep.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
Kyle’s always been an energetic boy. If he wasn’t out playing sports or building things with his friends, he was practicing on his guitar.
But lately, he’s been staying away from home more frequently and whenever I ask where he’s been, I get a vague excuse and a “Stop being so clingy, Mom!”
We’d been through so much: his father leaving, the endless bills, my job that barely covered our modest life. But watching as the boy who’d once told me everything started shutting me out was killing me.
A tense woman | Source: Midjourney
But even worse than the distance were the items I uncovered while doing one of my marathon cleans, scrubbing every corner of our tiny apartment to drive away the anxiety.
Wedged in a hidden corner under Kyle’s bed, I found a collection of brand-new gadgets and a thick stack of cash wrapped in rubber bands.
My heart beat so loud it echoed in my ears.
A shocked woman under a bed | Source: Midjourney
Kyle was a smart and resourceful kid, but there was no way he’d saved up this kind of money from lawn mowing or doing odd jobs for the neighbors.
But what could I do about it? I couldn’t confront him directly, not with the way things had been between us lately. He’d just get defensive and lie about it.
No, I’d have to be cunning instead.
A calculating woman | Source: Midjourney
I put everything back exactly as I found it and when Kyle turned up for dinner that evening; I acted like everything was normal.
“What were you up to all afternoon?” I asked as casually as possible.
Kyle shrugged. “Played soccer.”
I nodded and watched him dig his fork into the pot roast I’d prepared. I couldn’t help but think that whatever he was hiding from me was dangerous.
A woman sitting at a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I couldn’t help myself. I parked down the street from his school, watching the kids pour out of the doors, laughing, shouting, and carefree. Then my breath hitched.
A convoy of sleek black SUVs pulled up, their tinted windows gleaming in the sunlight. Kyle strode through the school entrance as though he’d been waiting and marched over to the SUVs.
He slid into the middle car like he’d done it a hundred times before.
A black SUV | Source: Pexels
I gripped the steering wheel, my heart pounding. Before I could think it through, I started following them, carefully keeping my distance.
We drove out past the town’s edge, where the small homes turned into estates and wealth dripped off every marble pillar. The SUVs turned into the entrance gates of a sprawling mansion, the kind you see in magazines, the kind that felt like an entirely different world from ours.
I stepped on the gas and managed to race through behind them, mere seconds before the gates shut.
Ostentatious entrance gates | Source: Pexels
I wasn’t sure what I’d do now, but I knew I hadn’t come this far to leave without answers.
So, I marched up to the front door and pressed the intercom button. Moments later, a woman appeared. She was elegant and impeccably dressed, with a sharp gaze that sliced right through me.
“Yes?” she said, her voice cold. “What are you doing here, and how did you get in?”
“All you need to know is that I’m here for my son, Kyle,” I said.
A woman standing outside a mansion | Source: Midjourney
She looked me up and down, and I felt like a smudge in her perfect world. “You’re Kyle’s… mother?”
“That’s right. Now, where is he?”
She gave a thin, mocking smile. “Kyle is otherwise engaged. This isn’t a place for people like you. You need to leave.”
My cheeks flushed with anger. “Look, lady, I don’t care what you think. I’m not leaving until I see my son.”
A woman speaking sternly to someone | Source: Midjourney
Just then, Kyle appeared in the doorway, his face a mixture of guilt and surprise.
“Mom?” he asked, glancing between us. “Ms. Anderson, please let her in.”
The woman sighed, clearly annoyed. “Fine. Come in if you must.”
Inside, everything was cold and vast. There were marble floors that echoed with every step and all the rooms I passed seemed designed for display, not comfort.
The interior of a luxury home | Source: Pexels
My heart was pounding. And then I saw the man standing by the fireplace, watching me with a casual, calculating gaze that sent a chill down my spine.
I stopped dead, staring at him. He was older, but there was no mistaking the line of his jaw, and the way he held himself.
It was Kyle’s father. The man who’d walked out of my life before Kyle was even born, leaving me to scrape together a life for us on my own.
A man standing in front of an ornate fireplace | Source: Midjourney
He gave me a small nod. “Miranda,” he said as if he were greeting an old friend.
“What… What is this?” My voice cracked, but I wouldn’t let him see the weakness.
He looked at Kyle, his expression softening slightly. “I’ve been looking for him since I started making serious money, and only recently found you both. Now, I want to make things right.”
“Right?” I spat, barely containing the rage simmering inside me.
A woman gesturing angrily | Source: Midjourney
“After thirteen years of nothing, you think you can waltz back in and fix everything with a few gifts?”
He raised a brow, unbothered. “You’ve done your best, I’m sure. But look around, Miranda.” His gesture took in the grandeur, the wealth. “I can offer him a life of stability, filled with opportunities. Not… whatever you have.”
I felt the ground tilt beneath me. He couldn’t be serious. “You… you want to take my son from me?”
A woman arguing with a man | Source: Midjourney
He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m pretty sure I’ll win the custody battle, too. After all, I have the means and the resources to do right by the boy now. I’m sure they’ll recognize the fact that Kyle would be better off with me.”
The room spun, and I clutched the edge of a nearby table, my nails digging into the polished wood. I couldn’t lose Kyle — not to this man who saw him as nothing more than an extension of his wealth, a trophy to parade around.
But before I could find the words, Kyle stepped forward.
A boy standing in a luxury home | Source: Midjourney
His voice was low but filled with defiance. “You think I want to live here? With you?” His face was pale, eyes blazing. “I went along with this arrangement because you kept throwing cash and stuff at me. Phones, money — anything I could get my hands on.”
He pointed at his father, his words sharp. “But I was always planning to sell it all. Every last gift and bribe. I just hadn’t figured out how to get the money to Mom without making her suspicious. I took those things so I could help Mom with her bills and make things a little easier for her.”
His father’s face froze, his confident expression faltering.
An uncertain man | Source: Midjourney
Kyle looked him dead in the eyes, his voice unwavering. “You’re nothing to me. All the money in the world won’t make me forget that you left us. You’re a stranger, and if you’re going to try to take me away from Mom, then I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Pride swelled in my chest, mixing with a fierce relief. I reached out, pulling Kyle to me, feeling his steady heartbeat against mine. I looked at his father, not bothering to hide the anger in my eyes. “Stay away from us.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I led Kyle out, each step feeling like a victory.
A woman and her son walking down a hallway | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, we tried to settle back into the quiet of our life, but the events of the previous day still weighed heavily on us.
When a knock sounded at our door, it startled us both. I opened it to find a man in a crisp suit, holding a bag. He handed it over without a word, disappearing before I could ask any questions.
Inside the bag was a staggering amount of crisp hundred-dollar bills, the kind of money I’d only ever seen in movies.
Dollars | Source: Pexels
There was a note tucked in among the cash, scrawled in a familiar, rushed hand: “Forgive me. I just wanted to make things right.”
Kyle looked at the money, then at me, his face hardening. “We don’t need his money, Mom. We have each other.”
I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I know, sweetheart. But maybe we could use this to finally catch our breath. To have a real chance at a fresh start.”
A woman smiling at her son | Source: Midjourney
We sat there, side by side, letting the weight of that decision settle. Whatever we chose, we’d do it together. Because in the end, it wasn’t the money or the mansion or even his father’s shadow that defined our life. It was us, standing together, no matter what came next.
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