It Happened To Me | Sylvia Beresford

Baby Survivor

One cold morning in January, Annette was brought into the world (two months early). She cried and kicked, much to the relief of her parents, Jo and Tim. Weighing only 4lbs, this fragile little girl was wrapped and given to her mother.

We four grandparents had been waiting for news together, as the birth was a planned Caesarean delivery. A bottle of champagne was opened to celebrate. Later, Tim, my son-in-law, called to say we could come to the hospital to see her at 4.00pm.

He met us in the foyer, his face drawn. We all sat down and he gave us the tragic news. The doctors had discovered that Annette had weak lungs, a cleft palette, not much bone in her forearms - plus a hole in the heart (which we had known about). Finally, she might later have learning difficulties. We sat, stunned, in disbelief.

These silent deformities had crept up announced. This delicate being had severe damage to some of her vital organs. How could nature have been so cruel? No one wept, we were too shocked.

I couldn’t imagine how Jo and Tim had reacted to such devastating news. Jo had only said to me the day before: “Mum, I feel there’s something else wrong with her. I so want a perfect girl.”

Later, we were shown into a ward of throbbing incubators holding these tiny arrivals, pipes trailing from their minute bodies. Annette, dressed in a red dress, looked somehow comfy, lying on her back, snoozing. At least she was peaceful and warm in her little glass box. Her arms were in splints, but her delicate feet and hands were pink and exquisitely formed. Nurses drifted in and out checking the machines. Jo told us that Annette’s cleft palette would probably prevent her breast-feeding. Since she had very small lungs, she would need additional oxygen.

As we caught the train back south to London we felt impotent to comfort Jo and Tim. Our grandson, Charlie, was being looked after by Tim’s parents and, if I were honest, I admit that I wished it were me. I wanted to be doing something to help.

Just over a year has passed since then. To begin with, we received daily bulletins of Annette’s progress. We dreaded the phone ringing, not knowing what the news might be. Gradually, the baby’s prognosis improved. Jo managed to express milk which Annette was able to take through a tube. The splint was removed from her arm and she was operated on to improve her breathing. The hole in the heart has now healed.

Annette will need more operations and any learning difficulties won’t be apparent for at least another couple of years. The doctors are worried that she isn’t growing, an indication of an as-yet, unknown condition. Yet, she has shown a tenacious grasp on life. Despite her small size she is nearly walking, and shows no lack of strength if she wants a toy her brother is playing with. She is feisty and lets us know very clearly when she wants something. Her determination to survive is what keeps her – and us - going.