Rachael: Penelope's mummy's story -

"Though she be but little, she is fierce"

Penelope lived those words every single day.

At 34 weeks, during a scan prompted by concerns about my blood pressure and Penelope’s size, doctors found a mass in Penelope’s abdomen.

Little was known at the time. We were told that if she arrived early, especially by caesarean, she would likely need oxygen.

Penelope was born at 36 weeks, weighing just 4lb 5oz, via emergency caesarean. She needed oxygen and support from several machines - but from the start, she proved she was a fighter. One by one, the machines disappeared, and she fought her way home.

At three days old, a scan showed the mass - thought to be a cyst. This was followed up with a further scan two weeks later - there had been little to no change in its appearance.

Three weeks after coming home from hospital, she began being sick, which was unusual for her. I noticed two bluish lumps on her thigh and scalp. After a clinic visit and GP referral, she was admitted to hospital.

The next day, our world shattered. Penelope was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma, a rare childhood cancer. The skin lumps showed it had spread.

She spent time on the oncology ward at the GNCH before being moved to intensive care with breathing difficulties after contracting RSV prior to being admitted to hospital. She underwent surgery for biopsies and bone marrow samples. Soon after, we learned her cancer was high-risk - the most aggressive form - requiring intensive treatment.

Chemotherapy began immediately. She had a Hickman line inserted and initially responded well, but her kidneys struggled to cope. Fluid built up in her tiny body, and she needed dialysis- despite weighing only 6lb. We were warned her heart might not survive the process. Twice, she proved everyone wrong, bravely fighting through.

But her body had endured so much. Her organs became overwhelmed, and options ran out. The night before the end, I read to her, told her how deeply she was loved, how proud I was and how special she would always be.

On 30th October 2025, one final intervention was attempted. It was too much for her fragile body. As we were called back to her bedside, the consultant said gently, “I think she’s dying.” Penelope passed away in our arms moments later.

She fought with extraordinary courage, strength, and grace.

There were many times we almost lost her - but she always pushed back against the odds.

Life is fragile and precious beyond words.

Now my love travels to her through an invisible, unbreakable bond. And my gratitude to the hospital staff at the GNCH - the true superheroes who cared for her with such compassion - will stay with me forever.

We’re doing this for Penelope and for all of the courageous warriors still fighting in the GNCH with the help of their superhero medical teams.