I wish I may, I wish I might ...

The world changed irrevocably over the past two years, but for critically ill children and their families, the pandemic was just another challenge. Fortunately, those who bring happiness and hope didn’t change; they worked even harder.

- GENEVIEVE GANNON

Sarah Pearce’s pregnancy was perfectly smooth so the doctors said it was safe to have her baby at the small hospital near her home in the Blue Mountains. But after her little girl, Anabela, arrived, they quickly realised something was wrong. “She was in a critical condition from the minute she was born. They didn’t think she’d survive the night,” Sarah says. Anabela was rushed to Sydney Children’s Hospital, Randwick, where she underwent surgery at just 48 hours old. Over the following weeks, in a humidicrib under the guardianship of a green knitted bear, she slowly grew stronger, but she was diagnosed with spina bifida, tethered cord syndrome, scoliosis and congenital birth anomalies.

“It was a lot to take in,” says Sarah. “When we left hospital, I was given four months of appointments.”

Sarah had planned to raise her daughter near her family in the Blue Mountains, but Anabela’s medical needs meant that wasn’t possible. So, she moved into a tiny apartment in Sydney’s east.

“It was an easy decision, but it was also very hard because it meant I didn’t have my parents and I didn’t have my brother and sister. It was quite scary moving into an area where we were alone,” she says. She didn’t feel alone for long, however. Sarah and Anabela spent so much time in hospital the nurses, doctors and ward nannies all became akin to family. And for Anabela, there were special friends who helped her be brave during her hospital visits: the Captain Starlights.