On the 27th April I'll be running the Manchester Marathon to raise money for the Royal Manchester Children’s Hospital, which along with other hospitals, including the brilliant St Marys, has provided Elizabeth with the most amazing care, from weeks before she was even born, up until today. She spent a huge part of her first year in hospital, and it wasn’t until her 2nd Birthday I felt the thick haze begin to lift. 2024 was a time of reflection and I felt ready to give something back. With two young children, and prolonged periods sleeping on a hospital camp bed, fitness was at an all time low and I could barely run the length of myself, but before I knew it, I had signed up for a marathon! Eek!

Any donation, big or small, would be so appreciated. But if you’d like to know more about the wee girl with the infectious laugh and crazy hair then please read on.

Elizabeth arrived on the 17th February 2022, but started fighting for her life long before that. Our 20 week scan showed brightness in her right lung and she was later diagnosed as having an extremely rare condition called Type 3 congenital pulmonary airway malformation (CPAM, Type 3), which was a benign and completely random tumour on her right lung.

Weekly scans from that point showed the lesion/tumour was growing, eventually taking up the entire width of her chest, with any normal lung tissue completely out of view. As a result of the sheer size, other organs had no space and began to fail, including her heart and her esophagus, as well as any potential lung functionality. There was a period where we didn't know if there would be a need for our next appointment.

These weekly scans became increasingly difficult as prognosis worsened, but the team that formed around us were out of this world. They gave us all the time we needed to talk through options and procedures, in a way that we felt comfortable. They made us feel like we were the only people in that hospital, and our consultant even welcomed last minute Teams calls with us from his home, about what the next few weeks may bring.

By 30 weeks, Elizabeth was still kicking and tumbling about in there, so we went in for a planned c-section at 33 weeks, which our team felt was the optimum time to try. Any later, her heart might stop, and any earlier, her lungs would have had no chance of developing enough to withstand the tumour. Despite the careful planning, we knew there was a high chance she would never come home.

On the 17th February, we were taken to theatre at the Royal Manchester Children's Hospital, where two theatre rooms were set up side by side, and a team of 41 people in scrubs awaited this little VIP’s arrival. We could not believe the number of people in that room! Days later we met the person who had the job of stopping anyone coming down the corridor. Literally, every single detail had been planned. All for Elizabeth. At around 11am, a miracle happened. Elizabeth Mairi Kerr arrived, and she was crying! A sound I still think about. A sound every parent is desperate to hear when their child is born, but a sound we didn't expect on this day. She was immediately taken next door, where they spent four hours removing the tumour. The tumour weighed 150g and was the size of an adult fist, which in a premature baby is unthinkable. We will never forget the surgeon who performed the impossible, and I’m so pleased to say we’re still in touch. I'm not sure every paediatric surgeon would have felt this intervention was even worth trying.

He later told us, this day was a reminder to everyone involved, of why they do what they do. Despite the hardship and negative press, this was what working for the NHS was all about. He was genuinely moved by what he’d witnessed that day, and the tears in the eyes of people we’d never met showed this wasn’t just a special day for us, but for everyone in that room.

Elizabeth then spent three months in the neonatal intensive care unit at St Mary’s Hospital in Manchester, which adjoins Royal Manchester Children’s. She spent much of this time on a high frequency ‘rescue’ ventilator, with several bumps along the way. But our team from day one were still with us, and came to visit her whenever they had the chance. Often just to see her, rather than a formal visit. The nursing staff became my friends, and were a huge part of our lives at that time. As weeks passed, her lungs opened up and tubes disappeared, and we knew she would come home.

After three months, she was home, and meeting her brother, Ruaridh, for the first time. She was still very dependent on extra oxygen and was fed through an NG tube, but she was where she belonged and we all adapted as best as we could. The hospital prepared us so well for going home.

Elizabeth was still extremely fragile. In the August following her discharge, she was admitted to Macclesfield Hospital with a virus, and was later transferred to ICU at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital in Liverpool after becoming extremely unwell, where once again she spent weeks on an oscillator ventilator. Once again, we found ourselves discussing palliative care as she made no signs of improving. But with yet another world class team around her, she defied all odds and rallied! That hospital and staff really are incredible, and I hope to fundraise for Alder Hey in the future.

She was eventually transferred back to Royal Manchester, where she underwent further surgery to have a G-Peg fitted (feeding tube), and a procedure to help prevent her aspirating milk, which had been adding to her problems. We were comforted to know the same surgeon would be in theatre. Two months after first being admitted, she came home. She was a different child. She’d gained weight, was showing signs of sitting up and generally a lot happier. We’re under no illusion, they’d saved her life. Again.

Fast forward to today. Elizabeth Kerr has recently turned three, and is the happiest, funniest and strongest little girl you could meet. After an expected delay, she’s talking, walking, eating and very much catching up on the start in life she missed out on. She came off the home oxygen at around 18 months, and although she’s still fragile and prone to chest infections, with her most recent hospital admission in December 2024, things should continue to improve for her as she grows.

We will be forever grateful to this hospital and all that it does, from the medical care it provides, to the toys, play sessions and parental support which is so important for young families going through such awful times.

I'd also like to acknowledge the support and amazing facilities at the Ronald McDonald accommodation, which we depended on in both Manchester and Liverpool. Again, we will also give back to this amazing charity.

If you got this far, thank you for reading about our little girl. She's a one off, and we couldn't be more proud. We're so grateful for the NHS and the individuals involved for taking a chance on our wee girl, bringing her safely in to this world. This is the only way we know how to say thank you.

Andy, Kathryn, Ruaridh and Elizabeth