If you see a purple butterfly sticker near a newborn, you need to know what it means

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 Husband Refused to Take Photos of Me on Our Vacation — His Reason Shocked Me, but My Revenge Left Him in Tears

Hannah here, hello to all of you. I feel compelled to tell this experience even if it is tough to do so. I am 38 years old, the mother of two wonderful children, ages five and seven, and I have been married to my husband, Luke, for almost ten years. Like any couple, we have faced our fair share of difficulties. But more than anything else we’ve experienced, something that occurred on our most recent trip to Mexico truly startled me.

Envision the following: we are in Mexico, surrounded by breathtaking beaches and exquisite weather. This excursion had me giddy with anticipation. Admittedly, I had meticulously prepared everything since, well, I rarely get a break as a mom.

Our goal for this time together was to rekindle our relationship, unwind, and simply enjoy each other’s company. But Luke was acting strangely from the beginning. He would always say no when I asked him to take a picture with me or of me.

He might say, “I’m not in the mood,” or, “Can we do it later?” I didn’t give it much thought at first. Perhaps he was simply fatigued from the journey? However, it continued to occur.

I was wearing a new outfit that I had purchased especially for the trip, and we were on this gorgeous beach. It’s not often that I feel good about myself, especially with two kids and everything. “Could you take a picture of me with the sunset?” I requested Luke.

“Not now, Hannah,” he muttered, with a sigh.

A white woman posing for a photo during sunset on the beach | Source: Midjourney

A Caucasian female striking a photo at dusk on the shore | Source: Midjourney

I scowled, a little offended. “Why not? It will just require a moment.

He yelled, “I said I’m not in the mood,” and turned to walk away.

That hurt. We’re on vacation, what gives him the excuse that he can’t stop and take a picture? I was perplexed and humiliated.

I saw that he was extra careful with his phone the whole trip. Every time I passed, he would conceal the screen and even carry it into the restroom. I tried to ignore the feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.

A closeup shot of a mobile phone lying on a bed | Source: Midjourney

An image of a cell phone on a bed in close-up | Source: Midjourney

Luke was taking a shower one afternoon when I noticed his phone on the bed. The moment I picked it up, my heart raced. I had to know even though I know it’s immoral to violate someone’s privacy. I browsed his recent messages on his phone and unlocked it immediately.

A group chat with his friends was there. And my blood ran cold at what I read. “Imagine, guys, at her weight, she still wants me to take pictures of her,” he had written. In what part of the picture would she possibly fit? She has changed significantly since having birth.

A shocked woman checking a mobile phone | Source: Midjourney

A horrified female inspecting her phone | Source: Midjourney

My eyes filled with tears, and I felt as though I was gasping for air. Behind my back, this man—the father of my children and the man I loved—was saying such harsh things. I believed we were a couple and that he accepted me for who I am, but instead he was making fun of me in front of his pals.

I sat there in shock, putting his phone back. How was he able to? I was heartbroken and deceived. Even though our marriage was far from ideal, I never would have guessed he had such low regard for me. I cried in private so the kids wouldn’t hear.

A depressed woman sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

A melancholic female patronizing a lodging room | Source: Midjourney

My tears eventually stopped flowing, and I started to feel angry instead. I would not allow him to escape punishment for this. I had to take action to demonstrate to him the repercussions of his statements. That’s when it dawned on me.

I pulled out my phone and looked through the pictures I had shot on the journey. Choosing my favorites, I shared them on Facebook with the comment, “Searching for a new travel companion.” Is my appearance so unappealing that even my spouse is reluctant to have me photographed?

A woman taking a selfie on a beach | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a beach taking a selfie | Source: Midjourney

The post started receiving likes and comments almost instantly. Several of my acquaintances and friends also sent encouraging remarks. They expressed their dismay at Luke’s actions and complimented my pictures, calling me gorgeous. I did not elaborate on the details of his remarks, but the meaning was evident.

Luke realized my mood had changed as he got out of the shower. “Is everything alright?” he inquired, perhaps detecting the anxiety.

A woman using her phone while sitting in a room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a room with her phone open | Source: Midjourney

“It’s just fine,” I answered, not taking my eyes off my phone. I was unable to look him in the eye since I was still so hurt and angry.

I was still in awe over Luke’s betrayal the following day. The things he had spoken about me stayed with me. However, something occurred that caused this already complex scenario to get much more difficult.

I had learned just before our vacation that my uncle—whom I had never met—had passed away and bequeathed a sizeable estate to me.

A closeup shot of a middle-aged man signing a document | Source: Midjourney

A man in his middle years is shown signing a document up close | Source: Midjourney

I thought it would be a happy surprise to tell Luke this news, so I had planned to do so during our trip. However, after learning the truth about his true feelings for me, I chose to keep it to myself.

Luke’s mother, who had learned about the inheritance, somehow passed the message to him that morning. I had just finished packing our things and was about to call the trip when Luke entered the room with a bouquet of flowers.

I had noticed his embarrassed expression on a few other occasions when he realized he had made a mistake.

A woman packing her suitcase | Source: Midjourney

\A female individual packing her bag | Source: Midjourney

He began, “Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything,” and held the flowers out. I accepted them silently, waiting to see what more he had to say.

“I know I’ve been a jerk,” he went on. That was not the right thing for me to say. However, my dear, you can hire a trainer and drop some weight with your newfound wealth.

I was astounded by what I heard. Did he really think that an apology and a recommendation that I use my inheritance to make myself different for him would be enough? Racked with fury, I shot out, “Maybe I will, Luke. nevertheless, not so you can stare at me.

A closeup shot of a man holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Midjourney

An image of a man clutching a bunch of flowers up close | Source: Midjourney

His expression was so precious. He thought I would simply forgive him and go on. But I had had enough. This was it—my breaking moment. “Luke, I’m divorcing you,” I stated, maintaining a calm tone despite my internal conflict.

His mouth dropped open as his eyes grew wide. Then he started crying, which surprised me. He pleaded, “Please, Hannah, don’t leave me.” “Now that I don’t have your money, all my plans are ruined. I was going to buy a new SUV to go off-road with my friends.”

A closeup shot of a man crying | Source: Midjourney

An image of a man sobbing up close | Source: Midjourney

I was in disbelief. I realized then how little he thought of me. What my money could buy him was what mattered, not our bond or our family. I fixed a pitying yet determined glance on him.

You seem to cherish my money more than I do. You won’t use my money or subject me to humiliation in order to get your SUV; you will find another way. Luke, good bye.

I left him then, feeling both strangely relieved and saddened at the same time. Though this wasn’t how I had imagined my life to go, I had to take responsibility for my happiness now.

The remainder of the day was devoted to organizing my return home and initiating the divorce proceedings. My family and friends never stopped being there for me. I was able to reclaim my self-worth and confidence with the support of each message and comment.

I came to the realization that I didn’t require Luke or anybody else to affirm my worth or beauty. I was sufficient in my own right. I made the decision to go on with my life and put my children and myself first.

In the days that followed, I began exercising because I wanted to feel stronger and healthier, not because Luke suggested it. I made more time for friends, picked up new interests, and even thought about returning to school.

I ran into Luke at the mall one day. He half-complimented me, which astonished me. “Hey!” Hannah, I almost didn’t recognize you. You appear different. How are the kids and you doing?

I said, “We’re doing great,” not wishing to carry on the discussion.

“Hannah, I wanted to ask you if…”

Luke, I’m getting late. I have to be somewhere. I apologize, I said, and I turned to go. His normally composed, self-assured face was marred by sorrow and perplexity, as I could see from the corner of my eye.

But since I could finally live my life on my terms and feel confident in my own skin, that stopped bothering me. Instead of lamenting my failed marriage, I was prepared to go on with courage and self-love.

So, what are your thoughts? Did I respond appropriately, or did I go a bit too far in my response? In my position, what would you have done differently?

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