Ruby’s last Christmas ‘She was going to die, but not without seeing Santa’
Claire Stewart pays tribute to her late daughter every year by putting the tree up…
As my daughter Ruby sat on Santa’s knee, she was beaming from ear to ear. I’d never seen her so excited. ‘Why does Father Christmas have two beards?’ she whispered in my ear.
I bit back a smile. Typical of Ruby to notice everything – including the fake beard that this particular Santa was wearing over his real one.
‘Maybe he’s cold,’ I suggested. As she innocently accepted my explanation and showed her dad the gift Santa had given her; I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
I wanted this trip to Lapland – and this Christmas – to be the most special, most magical one of all. Because the chances were, it was going to be Ruby’s last.
Ruby had always been such a special daughter, right from the moment she was conceived. Andy, now 44, and I had tried for six years for a baby and nothing had happened. Month after month, my period would arrive.
Doctors carried out tests, but when nothing was obviously wrong, they’d put it down to unexplained infertility. It was so frustrating – and devastating.
In 2012, we decided to go through IVF, but we only ended up with one viable embryo. One chance of having a baby.
It seemed too much to hope for, but after two weeks, we discovered it had worked. I was pregnant. We were finally going to be parents!
When Ruby was born in
January 2013, it was the proudest moment of our lives. And we had thought that all the heartbreak was behind us.
At 39, I was a first-time mum, and had no idea about parenthood or babies – but Ruby made it all so easy. She was a perfect, happy baby – and always sociable. She made being her mum a blessing because she was such a joy to be around. Anyone who met her, loved her.
But then in July 2017, when Ruby was four, she was standing in front of me one day and I noticed a lump on the side of her ankle.
Instinctively, I knew it was something serious. Straight away. Ruby was still jumping and hopping, just as she always did but something inside me warned me it was bad.
Our GP referred us to the hospital, where Ruby had an X-ray and an MRI scan. She was sent to Edinburgh’s Royal Hospital for Children & Young People for more tests, and it was there in September 2017 that they broke the devastating news to us that she had Rhabdomyosarcoma cancer in her ankle.
It wasn’t a shock; in a funny way it was a relief that we had a diagnosis and now we could start treatment for it.
They’d found that the disease had progressed rapidly in just the few months before diagnosis – she was already at stage four and had tumours in her spine and her lungs and pelvis, too.
Ruby had nine cycles of chemotherapy treatment followed by six weeks of radiotherapy – and she responded well to the treatment.
We told Ruby everything about her diagnosis and described it by saying she had a lump in her ankle that doctors
needed to remove. She coped with the treatment very well, but it certainly took its toll and there were days she would be so tired and struggle to get up in the morning. However, she was always positive and went to school throughout the treatment.
Doctors gave her a 50 per cent chance of survival and we were hopeful. We had to be. The other option was just unthinkable.
She finished the treatment in November 2018 and, cancer-free, she rang the end of treatment bell. We celebrated and went out for her favourite meal of sausages and mash near our Inchture home. We couldn’t wait to start our next chapter.
We celebrated Christmas altogether with all our family and we’d never felt so happy. Ruby’s health was the best present we could’ve asked for – it was extra special.
But then, only a couple of months later in February 2019, she started waking in the night complaining of a sore back. She had more scans, and it showed the cancer had come back.
It was devastating. Doctors told us that she would have two years left at the most.
Ruby endured more chemotherapy but by the Summer, tests showed that the cancer had continued to spread.
‘There’s nothing more that can be done for her,’ doctors said. Andy and I were heartbroken – we couldn’t imagine life without her. She was so precious to us.
A charity had organised a trip to Lapland for her to see Father Christmas, but then when Ruby started to need a wheelchair, they said they couldn’t accommodate her.
So, it became my mission to get Ruby to Lapland to fulfil her dream of seeing Father Christmas… whatever it took. She’d already received the letter from him inviting her to come. She couldn’t believe it when she got the note, she’d been so excited.
There was no way I was going to let my little girl down. She was going to die, but not without getting her chance to see Santa.
So, I contacted another company who organised trips for people who use wheelchairs, and we fundraised the entire cost of the trip.
In December 2019, Andy, Ruby and I boarded the plane to meet Father Christmas. We’d done it! We had got her there.
Although she was really poorly, we enjoyed every second. It was magical, watching her face light up with joy as she sledged in the snow, met real reindeers and huskies, and then received a present from Santa.
A day after we landed back in the UK, Ruby wasn’t well. We took her to Ninewells Hospital in Dundee, where doctors confirmed she had pneumonia.
We’d been told that she had up to two years left, but it’d been just over 10 months.
She was transferred to another hospital that had a children’s intensive care unit. But tragically she passed away a few weeks later on 3 January 2020 aged just six years old. Andy and I were inconsolable. We’d been through so much to have our special girl, and she’d been taken from us far too soon.
Now, at 49, I dread the festive season every year. All of Ruby’s milestones happened in the Winter months and it’s always tough. Ruby loved Christmas and each December I force myself to put the tree up as I know it’s what she would have wanted.
But our one comfort is that Ruby got to meet Santa before she died. It was a dream come true for her, and we’ll never forget that last Christmas – it’s one that we will hold in our hearts forever.