In memory of Gabriel, our son.

August 21st 2024 - the happiest day of our lives; our son, Gabriel Salam Khan, was born at 9.03am weighing 7lbs 2oz at 37 weeks 4 days gestation. He was utterly perfect, the sweetest and most beautiful little boy, our baby, our son. After 24 hours of being in our bubble of bliss with our bundle of joy, everything changed and life, as we knew it, would never be the same again.

Initially, the doctors thought it was just a little fluid in the lungs, which isn’t uncommon in newborns. Later they suspected a chest infection and were confident he would respond well to antibiotics, however he continued to get worse.

He was taken to the neonatal ICU and soon it was clear something was very wrong with our baby. The consultant pulled us aside and said we would need to leave the room as they would need to place our baby on life support. “But he’s going to be ok, right?” - I’ll never forget the look on her face when she told me that our son was very poorly and she didn’t know what was wrong with him.

When we were allowed back in to the NICU, our son lay there, in the little incubator, covered in wires and tubes, fighting for his life. The consultant told us he would need to be transferred to John Radcliffe’s Hospital and their ambulance team were on the way, that they didn’t have the facilities that Gabriel needed. I knew then this was very serious.

It was there, at John Radcliffe’s, at past midnight, that we were given the devastating news that our baby boy, the light of our heart’s, had a severe congenital heart condition known as hypoplastic left heart syndrome. We were to be transported to Great Ormond Street Hospital (GOSH) right away, to the cardiac intensive care unit. The specialist’s there would have a meeting to discuss Gabriel’s case that morning, and give us more answers. And so we waited, hoping and praying something could be done to save our baby life. I got on my knee’s, in the waiting room, and begged for God to save our baby.

I knew, from the look on all of their faces, what we were about to hear when we walked in to the meeting. They told us it was not good news, that Gabriel’s heart was just not strong enough, he would not survive surgery and there was nothing they could do for him. Their focus now, was to make him as comfortable as possible in his final days.

Just like that, what had been the happiest time of our lives just 24 hours prior, had turned in to the most painful. A nightmare we would never wake up from.

Our beautiful baby boy passed away August 26th, just 5 days old and took our hearts with him.

Nothing eases the pain of losing Gabriel, yet we are so grateful to GOSH for the way they cared for our son, until his last breath. They looked after Maj and I all the same; we were given a side room with Gabriel, so that we could be with him 24/7. They brought a bed in to the room so that we could sleep, what little sleep we managed, by his side. Our wonderful nurse, Caitlyn, helped us make clay hand and foot prints and put together a memory box; the contents of which are all what we have left of our baby boy here on earth. It hurt to leave the hospital with a box, and not our baby like all new mum’s and dad’s expect to. But now, in the days following Gabriel’s death, we seek comfort in those items, in that box; it’s like lighting candles in place of the sun.

For all of you reading this, I pray you never have to experience the loss of a child. I wish it would end right here, with no more loss- sadly, we won’t be the last parent’s to suffer such indescribable pain and suffering and our Gabriel won’t be the last child to fall seriously unwell.

Our wish is to raise funds, in Gabriel’s memory, to help more parents take their babies home, not a box, and to support those who have been given the same devastating news in the way we were.

Every day brings new challenges at GOSH. Every day, 619 children and young people from across the UK arrive there. Every day, their doctors and nurses battle the most complex illnesses. GOSH depends on charitable support to give seriously ill children the best chance to fulfil their potential. Or, as in our case, where this is not possible, to allow them to pass peacefully without any pain.

Thank you for taking the time to read our story. Please donate what you can.

—For Gabriel.