no Tears For Finley
Sarah’s resourceful little lad is going from strength to strength
My son Finley took one wobbly step followed by another. ‘Well done!’ I said, cheering him on.
My baby boy was just 9 months old, and here he was taking his first steps. Happy tears filled my eyes. It’d be a proud moment for any mum, but when I thought how far Finley had come…
He’d arrived in the world with a fair bit of drama.
I’d been induced at 36 weeks after being diagnosed with cholestasis – a condition where bile builds up in your liver. It can be dangerous for the baby.
Me and his dad Matt, 39, had worried we’d lose him.
Then, during labour, I’d developed strep B – a bacterial infection that can threaten a newborn’s life.
So, as soon as Finley was born, he was whisked off to Hereford County Hospital Special Care Baby Unit.
Teary boy
Next, our brave boy saw off a bout of jaundice, having to stay under a UV light for a week – until, at last, we were allowed to take him home.
Finley went from strength to strength. After taking his first steps, he never stayed still, keeping us busy along with his big brothers, Matt’s kids from a previous relationship, Jack, 17, and Brandon, 10.
Life was perfect, our medical crises a thing of the past... Until one morning in June this year, when Finley, then 2, shook me awake.
‘Mummy can I have some crisps?’ he whispered tearfully.
‘But it’s only 5am,’ I whispered back, scooping him up and tucking him back into bed. Bless! But, two hours later, Finley woke me again. He was white as a sheet, his lips blue. ‘Finley!’ I gasped. Suddenly, he vomited and began screaming, then collapsed, a dead weight. Matt had gone to work early. ‘You need to come home!’ I said, panicking on the phone.
Brandon stayed with his older brother, and we rushed Finley to the GP, who thought it was potential sepsis. So he ordered an ambulance for us, and we were blue-lighted to Hereford County Hospital. Doctors diagnosed tonsillitis, admitted Finley to a children’s ward for observation, where he was given antibiotics.
After a few hours, though, I spotted a tiny purple scratch on Finley’s wrist.
He always had odd bumps and bruises – but, when I touched the graze, he screamed the place down.
Within 10 minutes, doctors and nurses swarmed his bed, taking blood tests, fitting IVS.
‘It’s meningitis and septicaemia,’ a doctor revealed.
Matt’s knees buckled, and I felt sick.
Our little boy’s life was on the line...again.
Finley’s
After a few hours, I spotted a tiny purple scratch on his wrist
body was deteriorating, he was losing consciousness.
Put in an induced coma, his body wasn’t strong enough to fight the disease on its own.
‘We’re transferring him to Royal Stoke University Hospital,’ we were told, as Hereford had no Intensive Care Unit.
Radical surgery
By the time we got to Stoke, spots were showing up on Finley’s chest. And, before long, he was wheeled into surgery.
Next time we saw our boy, he was covered in purple spots, being pumped with drugs.
His life was saved…just. And, by day 10, he was beginning to rouse. But his fingers and toes were turning black.
The disease was attacking his blood vessels, and his blood was poisoned. His body had fought to keep his organs alive, leaving his fingers and toes vulnerable. ‘He’ll live, but he could lose his limbs,’ doctors said after three weeks.
I thought of our active little lad, always on the go.
What would his life be like..? It was a waiting game. After 12 days in Stoke, Finley was moved to Birmingham Children’s Hospital.
To stop Brandon worrying, we didn’t tell him much, even hiding Finley’s hands and feet when he visited.
A week on, he had surgery for skin grafts on his limbs. Matt and I went for a walk to clear our heads. Only, coming back... ‘It’s worse than we thought,’ the doctor told us. All of Finley’s toes and fingers were dead. He’d lose them all. Days later, before surgery, I kissed his head.
‘Love you, Mummy,’ Finley mumbled, and my heart ached.
After three hours in surgery, we were allowed to see him.
‘I’m scared to pull the sheet back,’ Matt whispered.
We were told Finley had lost his feet – the left above the ankle, the other midway from the shin – and all his fingers and thumbs.
Be brave
Seeing his limbs in bandages, we broke down. But Finley woke up with a huge smile on his face!
Then it hit us...
If he could be brave, we could too.
After three weeks in Birmingham, Finley was so much better.
He accepted the loss of his limbs straightaway, didn’t let it stop him shuffling around on all fours on the Children’s Ward.
He had problems with eating at first. But he was so happy when Matt taped cardboard forks to his stumps!
Now, Finley doesn’t let anything get in his way. He runs on his knees after Brandon – still the little lad who never sits still!
Matt’s quit his job to be Finley’s fulltime carer. It’s difficult at times.
But Finley was recently fitted with prosthetics for his feet, and he’s already walking and running around! He’ll have more in a few years’ time.
I can see a paralympian in the making one day.
Finley’s been so brave, he definitely deserves a medal!
Running on his knees, he’s still the lad who never sits still!