Stephen’s Story

Stephen arrived early, born at 33 weeks on the 12th of May, 1992. He was tiny, fragile, and already fighting. Time seemed to slow down as we stood outside the neonatal unit, staring at him through the glass, surrounded by wires and monitors, lying in his incubator. We remember begging the nurses to let us touch him—just for a moment—needing to feel that he was real, that he was ours. When they finally said yes, that small touch meant everything.

He spent a few weeks in hospital, growing stronger day by day. When he finally came home, he had the most delicious tan—courtesy of sunbeds used to treat his prematurity and jaundice. We joked about it, but underneath the laughter was pure relief. He was home. Safe. Ours.

I don’t think any of us had ever been so excited to welcome a wee baby home. From the very beginning, Stephen had already shown us what it meant to fight—and how deeply he would be loved.