Posted 27th Nov 2007
Jamie Speechley
The doctors laid my newborn daughter in my arms and I looked down at her face. Tears welled in my eyes as I did a double-take. She looked so much like her big brother - the son I'd lost just three days earlier.
Bringing life into the world was amazing and, in other circumstances, I would have been happy. But with my son, her brother, lying cold in the morgue, I didn't think I'd ever feel happiness again.
Everything positive and good in my life had drained out of me when I walked into my 13-year-old son Jamie's room and found him dead after he'd hanged himself with a PlayStation controller lead.
He'd been in trouble at school and I'd grounded him so, angry at not going to the park with his sister Morgan, eight, and his cousins for his brother Shane's 11th birthday, he stormed up to his room.
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"It's not fair, I want to go!" he shouted as he went upstairs. But I'd heard it all before. He'd often go to his room at our home in Coulsdon, Surrey, to cool down after an argument.
But 20 minutes later, he hadn't come back down as he usually would have, so I went to his room. But when I pushed the door, it wouldn't open properly.
Jamie was lying on the floor and the light was off. As I flicked it on, I realised something was around Jamie's neck and attached to the cabin bed. My little boy's lips were blue and his face was grey. "Get up," I urged him, sure he was trying to frighten me.
But I knew something was wrong... the lead around his neck was so tight. I shouted to my sister Samantha to bring scissors to cut it off. He'd be OK then. But after I cut it he lay there, still and cold. What had he done?
We both tried to resuscitate him and, as he was rushed to hospital, I still thought my son would be OK. Eventually, I was taken to him. They were still working on him and I cried: "Come on, Jamie.come on, baby. Don't give up now."
I prayed for a miracle to happen, for Jamie to suddenly take a gasp of air and come back to me. But he didn't. The doctors told me they had to stop. Jamie was dead. I screamed in shock and fell, sobbing, into Samantha's arms.
Eventually, they said I could see Jamie to say goodbye, so I walked over, cuddled him and kissed him. "I'm so sorry," I said. I blamed myself and felt I should have been able to save him "I love you." I was devastated. It didn't make sense. How could my son have just died? The next three days passed in a blur of grief. All the while I could feel the new life of my baby inside me. She was due just a week after Jamie's death but I couldn't bear the thought of celebrating the birth of one child while grieving for another.
But I had no choice. The doctors were worried about my health and said I had to have a caesarean. I didn't care about anything any more - I just wanted Jamie back.
I called my baby Ayesha and, after the birth, I returned home, going through the motions of motherhood, with an emptiness I couldn't shake. I felt no bond with my baby... I felt nothing for anyone. A week after the birth, we had Jamie's funeral. It was awful but afterwards I slowly came to my senses again and then the questions began... Was it an accident, or had Jamie meant to kill himself?
I started examining every aspect of his life. He was a wonderful little boy at home and very protective of his little brother Shane, who has Down's syndrome. But just before his fourth birthday, when he was about to start school, he became very naughty. On his first day I was called in because he'd been misbehaving. From then on, it became a regular occurrence.
Eventually, we were told his problems were down to dyslexia but, over the years, Jamie's behaviour grew more extreme. He smashed the windscreen of our car by putting his feet through it when he was nine. I realised it wasn't normal, so we asked for help and were referred to Lennard Lodge in Croydon, a centre for child behavioural problems.
I was convinced he had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, though tests showed that he didn't. But they agreed to give Jamie counselling and it seemed to improve his behaviour.
Then his counsellor left and he went back on the waiting list as they felt other children's needs were greater. I was furious as I watched Jamie get more out of control.
He seemed so angry all the time - he began to punch holes in plasterboard at home and was suspended from school for his unruly behaviour. I was very worried but, every time I tried to talk to him, he blamed it on silly things such as falling out with someone at school. I was near the end of my tether...
He had been back to Lennard Lodge for more tests for ADHD and we were waiting for the results. I just knew that was his problem. If he got the help and medication he needed then he would finally be OK.
But before we could do anything further, Jamie was gone. And now I was left with endless questions about whether it could have been prevented.
Months passed and I gradually began to bond with Ayesha, though it still felt wrong to feel joy. Finally, last June, at Jamie's inquest, the coroner Dr Roy Palmer recorded a verdict of accidental death. Jamie had died as a result of asphyxia. Nothing indicated he had committed suicide. Dr Palmer said: "We don't know what was in his mind but it looks like he was going to teach someone a lesson."
I felt better knowing that he hadn't committed suicide. I wouldn't want to think his life was so horrible he would want to do that. But to know it was an accident made me think there is more I could have done.
It hurts me to think that I was sitting downstairs while he was dying. In a short space of time, he went from being angry to doing something really serious. That will always haunt me.
Jamie's room has been left as he always had it. I can't bear to clear it out. It is like a shrine and I go in there every morning and speak to him.
We also have a tribute page for him at www.gonetoosoon.co.uk My other children, including his big sister Charmaine, 18, have been such a help. Ayesha has been a blessing - I know that having her helped pull me through. She made me get up on days when I was so deep in grief I didn't think I could cope.
If I've learned anything from this, I would urge parents to listen to their teenagers and try to understand them better.
I wish Jamie had been able to talk to me about everything that worried him. I do feel he was let down by the system.
If he had continued his counselling maybe he would be here today. I'll never know...
AS TOLD TO AMANDA STOCKS
A spokesman for South London And Maudsley NHS Foundation Trust said: "We provided counselling services to Jamie Speechly some time prior to his tragic death.
"While it is difficult to know if this situation could have been avoided, we have carried out our own internal review, which identified issues that we have learned from.
"We would like to express our sincere condolences to his family."
