We found out we were expecting a baby girl in November 2024. She would be the first girl in our family after six boys, and we were completely overwhelmed with joy. We counted down the weeks until her arrival, imagining our life as a family of five, never thinking for a moment that anything could go wrong.
My contractions began late on the evening of 11 April 2025, and we arrived at hospital around 11pm, already 6cm dilated. Labour progressed well until I entered the birthing pool, where I suddenly blacked out and was rushed into the delivery suite. Although the birth was traumatic, there was no intervention, and our beautiful daughter, Evie Knowles, was born at 1:08am on 12 April 2025, at 40+1 weeks.
Initial checks were carried out by both a midwife and a consultant. We were told Evie’s lactate levels were high and advised that she needed frequent feeds. Blood tests were supposed to be taken every four hours, but these were never done. At the time, we trusted that everything was under control.
At 5am we were moved to the maternity ward. My partner went home to rest while I tried to sleep. Evie had not fed since around 2am, but when I asked the midwife at 9am whether this was normal, I was reassured that newborns often sleep a lot after birth.
When my partner arrived back at the hospital around 11am, he immediately felt that something wasn’t right. Evie was still purple in colour and was making grunting noises when she breathed. I was very much in a baby bubble and hadn’t noticed the changes, but he insisted we raise our concerns. Initially, we were told that some babies are simply “grunty,” but my partner pushed for a second opinion.
When the consultant assessed Evie, she was taken straight to NICU. Everything then happened incredibly fast – blood tests, an IV line, and a lumbar puncture. We were asked to wait outside because it wasn’t nice to watch. Hearing our baby scream from another room while we could do nothing was utterly heartbreaking.
The first time we saw her again, she was covered in wires and monitors. This was also the first sight our two young sons had of their baby sister. That night, I was sent back to the maternity ward alone and told to get rest. Being surrounded by other mothers with their babies while mine was in NICU was indescribably painful. At 5am, I walked down to NICU and held Evie again for the first time, trying to navigate the tubes and machines attached to her tiny body.
After two days in NICU, Evie improved enough for us to return to the ward together. She was closely monitored and slowly got stronger. On day nine, we were allowed home on hospital leave, returning three times a day for antibiotics. It was exhausting, but being home together as a family felt worth it.
Evie completed her antibiotics, her infection markers improved, and we were discharged. As we left the hospital, we were handed a leaflet about group B Strep and recurrence but received no verbal explanation. Until that point, we had never heard of group B Strep. I had not been offered a test during pregnancy and didn’t know testing was even an option.
Three weeks later, on 11 May, our world came crashing down again. Evie was unusually sleepy and wasn’t feeding well. My partner rushed her to A&E while I stayed home with our other children. Then came a message I will never forget: “You need to get here. It’s not good.”
When I arrived, my partner was sitting in the waiting area. Doctors were trying to insert an IV line through Evie’s bone because her body was shutting down and they couldn’t find a vein. I didn’t know if I would walk into that room and find my baby alive. Those minutes of waiting were the worst of my life.
When we were finally taken in, Evie lay lifeless on a large hospital bed. Her heart rate was 205 beats per minute, she was grey, and barely clinging on. She was stabilised and transferred to the children’s ward, where she was given constant antibiotics and monitored closely. Doctors explained they suspected meningitis. When the viral treatment was stopped, I knew before they said the words that it was bacterial.
The days that followed were a blur of scans, blood tests, consultants, MRI results, and discussions involving Cambridge Hospital and Great Ormond Street Hospital. After 11 days, we were able to go home on hospital leave again, with community nurses visiting five days a week to administer antibiotics. At weekends, we returned to the ward, often spending hours there.
On 19 June, Evie received her final dose of antibiotics. Her MRI, blood tests, and lumbar puncture all came back clear, and we were finally discharged.
Although Evie survived, the impact remains. I carry constant worry. I rarely let anyone else care for her, and I monitor her closely, especially when she is unwell. I bought an Owlet sock so I could watch her statistics overnight, afraid I might miss something. I don’t think I’ve ever fully processed how close we came to losing her.
Evie is now nine months old, and I have left her side only once, for one hour. Group B Strep and the resulting bacterial meningitis changed our lives forever.
We know how incredibly lucky we are that Evie survived. Many families don’t get the same ending. We count our blessings every single day that our little girl had the strength to fight and stay with us.
