Introduction
There are six multiple births involved in the indictment against Lucy Letby, babies A/B, E/F, I, J, L/M, O/P. Five mothers had been expecting twins and one mother, the mother of babies O and P, expected a triplet. Babies I and J had each lost their sibling in utero. The sibling of O and P survived. So, including the still births, we are talking about 13 babies of 6 mothers. Twins are obviously not rare, but twin births are not just ordinary births. Being one of a twin has enormous impact on fetal development and, after a successful delivery, neonatal health. I have been learning about this from an expert: doula Sarah Hawkins; herself mother of premature twins. She not only advises mothers to be but also campaigns for better antenatal care of twin mothers.
The multiple births in the Lucy Letby case had all had antenatal care from top hospitals specialising in multiple pregnancies, as they should, since particular complications exist which only specialists know about, such as TTTS: twin to twin transfusion syndrome. This happens when identical twins share one placenta, and one twin is actually providing nutrients to the other.
The antenatal care received by the mothers should have been an essential part of the medical notes reviewed by medical experts involved in the trial. As far as we know, it wasn’t. And obviously, those experts should have included obstetricians and experts in fetal medicine.
Sarah continues in her own words.
Sarah’s story
I found myself sitting in a garden in the Netherlands with Professor Richard Gill who welcomed me at his very traditional, and quaint Dutch house. If I were to stage a set of a retired Professor it would look just like this. Family art on the wall and mix matched furniture that serve practicality over comfort. Finding a wicker garden chair in the lounge was made ever more eccentric and adorable by the tennis balls on the feet protecting the original flooring.
I have had communication with a handful of people invested in this case on some level. I stood my ground and remained boundaried, upsetting a few people with my candour and sarcasm in the face of perceived disrespect until I felt I was speaking to someone who not only had the erudite and integrity but also the compassion and humility to meet me as a mother with much less education than he on the level. Mano el Mana.
I decided to meet with him, having first connected around February this year when my wing-woman, ride or die, the Cagney to my Lacey Shannon Evans from Mississippi, emailed him. Meeting him I realise I had finally found someone who I feel has the commitment to being fair and thorough in making sure that any stone seemingly unturned is done so carefully allowing for all and any possibility.
I sat in his garden while many birds came to visit, providing a momentary distraction from a huge amount of chatting about our respective work and insights. He did not disappoint. He listened and I shared with him the following letter which to my delight and honour he was happy to share on his blog:
Sarah’s letter
Dear All,
This is written thinking of all the parents of babies who are no longer with us, or who have children living with lifelong and life-limiting conditions and disabilities directly associated with the Letby case. I extend my thoughts to others – those who have suffered similarly due to poor care, a terrible oversight, or something potentially caused by someone with an intent to harm.
I want to first say to those parents: I see you. I am among you.
Unlike many of you who have followed the harrowing details of the Lucy Letby case, I’ve had my own journey of neonatal intensive care as a mother of twins born prematurely at 31 weeks after a high-risk pregnancy in early June 2015.
It was because of this that when the news first broke, I had a very strong emotional reaction, and then I began to be more open-minded but with not much interest until I had a need to go over previous research.
This shared experience, though thankfully with a different outcome, compels me to speak not about guilt or innocence in the Letby case itself, but about the crucial need for informed discussion and the often-overlooked complexities of neonatal care, particularly for vulnerable multiples.
I really am not overly invested in passing comments on the specifics of the Letby case at this stage. My opinion could be as woefully unhelpful as anyone else’s, especially without a purpose and/or information steeped in evidential fact. My intention is to demystify some misconceptions.
I am motivated by requesting a modicum of compassion and consideration, because whether you believe one thing or another, it is the casual ferocity of those continually passing comments as armchair detectives, spokesperson journalists, and appointed experts itself that I want to address.
I get it. When I take a break from catching up with the Biebers, I too have spent hours doom-scrolling on TikTok to see what the pundit detectives have discovered in high-profile cases. Could Nicola Bulley be seen amongst the branches of the tree in the water? What can be seen on the screen of the TV in the hotel room of Liam Payne?
As I fall asleep, I love listening to true crime. Stranger still, I listen to body language experts talking about blink rate and micro-gestures. There is a reason why the Discovery and History channels have had such success. Long-hand doom-scrolling, which, as Ricky Gervais so eloquently pointed out, makes one an expert in “sharks and Nazis.”
Shannon has her own podcast that covers crime and we have written and podcasted together about tragic yet interesting topics relating to twins.
I am also someone who understands the need to be right because I am almost never wrong, just like everybody else. I understand much less the need to be right about something in the absence of information. What I don’t understand is the need to stare down the lens of a camera, speaking with authority about something without the information, experience, or authority to speak about it.
But I have the authority to speak, and if so compelled, stare down a lens and/or write about what it is like as the mother of twins born prematurely in 2015 and whose babies were admitted to NICU. They were born at the same gestation and occupied little Perspex boxes at the same time the first two precious twins were in the Letby case. I can speak with authority about the poor care I received in pregnancy, that my own daughters almost died, and is the reason one of them struggles to this very day as a consequence.
I can also speak with authority as someone who, as a result of my own family’s experience, campaigns for better care for those experiencing a twin or multiple pregnancy. I can speak with authority as someone who has worked in maternity care for five years and has seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. I can speak with authority as someone who has gone above and beyond to understand the conditions that affect twin and multiple pregnancy and birth.
Through my campaigning and work, I have had the pleasure of meeting some incredible families, and some of those include those who have suffered the loss of one or all of their twins and/or multiples. I have supported families in understanding what happened that led to the loss of their cherished children.
From my perspective and with the insight of all the above, it doesn’t matter what YOUR personal belief is. It matters how you share it and our stories.
Twins and multiples generate huge amounts of wild fascination and intrigue. The one disheartening constant is that, for one reason or another, this wild fascination doesn’t extend to protecting those that people seem so intrigued by. I encourage those intrigued to respect, care for, and support the twin community and not capitalize on it.
If we consider parent victims and advocates in the UK, such as Denise Bulger, the mother of James Bulger, or Baroness Doreen Lawrence, the mother of Stephen Lawrence, we see two women who, during a time without social media and TikTok evangelists, had space to stand tall and share their own children’s stories. However, whether it is because of a risk to an ongoing investigation (which every keyboard detective will certainly affect) or because the keyboard detectives are drowning them out, the parents in the Letby case have no voice.
My perspective, while not clinical and perhaps from an “outsider” position within the traditional medical hierarchy, is rooted in empowering families to navigate the system and advocate for the best possible care. This includes fostering a strong relationship between clinicians and families to achieve optimal outcomes. However, a critical aspect of this is ensuring that women with high-risk multiple pregnancies, like those monitored for multiple pregnancy-related conditions for extended periods, are not moved unnecessarily, especially outside of an NHS network equipped to handle their specific needs. If a trust is managing such a case, it absolutely must have access to a neonatologist with specialized knowledge of these conditions. The inconsistencies and “dysregulation” of services across the country are a significant concern today, as they were then. Collaborative and continuity of EXPERT care is vital before, during, and after birth. This is especially important when the twins or multiples share a placenta. The reason for this is because there are two conditions that affect only these types of pregnancy.
The science of it all, in simple terms using twins who share a placenta as an example: First, what is a placenta? A placenta is like the roots of a tree. Blood is pumped out of the heart and travels into the umbilical cord, and then when the umbilical cord hits the placenta, it branches off into a series of roots or blood vessels. Each root, or little blood vessel, goes and finds a small area of its own placenta. Making this make sense, research specialists in fetal medicine developing new methods of fetal surgery discovered some rather amazing things. The placenta is made of many separate little placentas. Each little placenta has one blood vessel taking the deoxygenated blood away from the fetal heart and one coming out full of oxygen-rich blood, full of all the good stuff babies in utero need. One vessel in and one vessel out. Well, there are many of these little placentas that are stuck together, but each little placenta is supplied by one vessel going in and one vessel coming out, independent of each other. In a twin placenta, there is a cluster of these little placentas that belong to one baby and another for the other baby. Then there’s a group of little placentas in the middle where a blood vessel goes in from baby one, and then a blood vessel from baby two comes out. A shared placenta is not one placenta but three.
There are two conditions that are similar insofar as one baby will get an unequal share of blood due to these little shared placentas. However, one is very rapid in its evolution, while the other is slow. If the neonatologist caring for these babies does not have the experience to discern one disease from the other and they make the wrong treatment decisions and actions, the newborns can and do on occasion die.
Often, in pregnancy women are told their baby is not growing as well. Clinicians might understand this to mean various different things, including blood flow, which is also plotted on a growth chart that looks similar to the one they use to plot the growth of the head and abdomen.
A bit more about the mysterious phenomenon of twin and multiple pregnancy that will, God willing, assist me with landing this super important point: The placenta and everything that surrounds your baby that is born with them is entirely their DNA. A huge amount is known about how cells behave differently in twins and multiples, but also fetal growth patterns are unique too.
This does not mean twins and multiples are by default weaker when born; in fact, in some ways, they cope better with some aspects of prematurity. They don’t always have to be born early. In fact I have supported several women to get to an advanced gestation with expert care who gave birth vaginally to perfectly healthy babies, at term around 40 weeks.
However, and this is an important caveat, thorough monitoring is a huge benefit when more than one baby shares a placenta. The mismanagement and failings in care stem from a failure to recognize and act decisively on early warning signs. Too often, women’s legitimate concerns are dismissed as typical twin pregnancy symptoms, leading to missed diagnoses of serious complications. The solution lies in a proactive approach: regular, expert-led ultrasound scans that specifically look for the indicators of high-risk twin and multiple conditions.
The health of all babies can be seen on an ultrasound. Crucially, with twins, these scans must include Doppler blood flow measurements in vital fetal vessels to assess blood flow, hemoglobin levels and to see which organs are getting a good supply. Any identified abnormality should trigger an immediate referral and appointment “not tomorrow, today”, as Professor Kypros Nicolaides implores. This should be to a center equipped for intervention. The underutilization of readily available Doppler technology during routine scans is an issue, as it can leave diseases unseen and untreated. Treatment in good time has a very high success rate. Sonographers should be trained to perform these quick but critical assessments themselves, even with bedside machines, rather than delaying care with negligence and “deferrals”.
My concerns during my twin pregnancy were ignored, and what we know now about monitoring for these conditions, we knew then.
My intention in sharing my story and these observations is not to contribute to the cadenza of speculation surrounding the Lucy Letby case. Instead, it is to shed light on the often-murky underbelly of high-risk pregnancy care and neonatal services, particularly for incredibly vulnerable babies born to multiple pregnancies affected by any additional risks.
My observation from supporting twins and multiples across the country is that care is well under par, and as many clinicians are bluffing now, as they were then. The NHS is now in a pursuit to discover with Mothers and Babies: Reducing Risk through Audits and Confidential Enquiries across the UK (MBRRACE) what is causing deaths and disabilities to babies and women during the maternity period.
I will do my best to help you understand the nuts and bolts of it all. There are a number of “highly sophisticated” methods of inquiry the NHS or national health services are implementing in order to, for example, find out why the mother of South Asian heritage who was receiving poor care had a stillbirth, or why the Black woman had a late miscarriage.
First of all, the hospital or trust sends the baby/fetal tissue or placenta for pathology and histology, and then, if the baby died after 22 weeks’ gestation, the clinical team meet in what is called a Perinatal Mortality Review Tool (PMRT) meeting, where they do the scientific equivalent of marking their own homework before sending it to MBRRACE. Who knew systemic failings can all be found in the fetal tissue itself? What does that mean? How could such a scientific line of inquiry fail? I hear you say.
Britain has a distinct lack of neonatal pathologists; however, fear ye not, they will cast a wide net, finding any pathologist, and a histology report might be conducted by a geriatric cardiac specialist pathologist. Then they give their non-expert expert opinion, it is taken as fact even if the disease they point towards doesn’t exist.
The fact is, in British maternity services, we are at the mercy of non-expert experts caring for women who require expert care, and then when the shit doth hit the fan, we have non-expert experts giving their non-expert expert opinion, and then all is concluded.
If we just go back a little bit further during pregnancy, we can factor in the use of locum doctors on locum contracts; the expert caring for you during pregnancy could be for example a podiatrist. There is nothing wrong with podiatrists, but do you think an obstetrician can expertly treat foot rot?
Then you (who I wish I had some faith that you all mean well), the commentators, come in with your non-expert expert and personal theories, adding another dimension of non-expert experting.
While MBRRACE is playing clueless, finding the fetus in the utero with the placenta as the weapon, we have you, the COCH players, finding consultants in NICU force-feeding babies any number of vaccines from a syringe previously used to catch droplets of contaminated water from the leaking sewer pipe. These are people’s babies you are talking and making wild stabs in the dark about.
Let me let you in on a little secret: you would be hard-pressed to find a NICU, maternity, or labor ward that doesn’t have a leak, and those that don’t will have more than enough deficits that a bacterial infection could be the least of your worries.
My girls’ NICU had a leak. It also had social admissions on a revolving door policy. What is a social admission? Allow me to explain using my own experience as a NICU mum in early June 2015.
I am an over-sharer and an under-shearer. You will understand the relevance of this perfectly executed joke as we go along, so bear with me and forgive the bad jokes; humor is my love language. Who knows, maybe the general attitude towards pregnant women that I have also experienced has eroded what little dignity I might have had.
I have become accustomed, as most multiple parents have, to the high number of people interested in how I conceived, so let me get that out of the way: gin, tonic, Halloween, and missionary.
My twins shared a placenta, and I was unbelievably pathetic compared to most twin mums. Why did I go into spontaneous labor at 31 weeks?
My girls developed Twin Anemia Polycythemia Sequence (TAPS), and I got lucky, we got lucky. TAPS is one of the two conditions that only twins that share a placenta can develop in utero. I was in and out of hospital. I was going in and out of labor, I changed hospitals, I begged to be scanned whereby it would have been seen and I could have been treated, but they refused to afford me any beneficial care.
Was it the TAPS that caused the premature labor? There is no evidence that it does, but it is so rare and underdiagnosed, and when treated, they will often deliver early (ready for the baaad joke?). It was either that, or it was the moving from a seated position to standing in order to trim my fleece in the bath that was not shorn as my waters broke; hence, my children came out like marines in Platoon.
Our pregnancy and care was in many ways so dehumanizing and bewildering.
I gave birth vaginally to my daughters, and the carnival of strangers left the room. The lives that were once as close as any humans can be inside my womb and physically attached and reliant on me and each other due to their shared placenta were whisked away from me. My legs were numb, and I was entirely alone, waiting for a wheelchair to take me to NICU, their home for the next two and a half weeks. My partner and 13-year-old son were with them, so at least they were not alone, and at that time, that is all that mattered to me.
Finally, some two hours after they were born, following several requests and pleas, a wheelchair was found, and I was taken down to my newborn children, my heart racing ever faster the closer we got.
A set of double doors opened, and I was no longer in the Victorian building but somewhere that resembled the Starship Enterprise. To my right were metal sinks, and someone gave me precise instructions on how to wash my hands; dazed and confused, I followed dutifully.
I could have never imagined how, when gripped with so much fear, one gives themselves over in these situations with blind faith and trust in those tasked with caring for our own children.
I am taken down a corridor to another set of doors and through into the room my babies are in. I was not prepared for what met me. My babies were on opposite sides of the room in separate incubators. The last time I saw them was immediately after they were born when they were momentarily on my abdomen, and now they were alone, wires everywhere.
No one can ever prepare a parent for the likelihood that they might not immediately be able to not only hold their baby but also stare at their beautifully formed face. NICU is not something anyone gets over easily.
A McMaster University study of 7,755 children and adolescents has found that “NICU graduates” (an odd term used by the researchers for those that went to NICU and didn’t seemingly fail, perhaps? Are they graded upon graduation? I digress) they had a nearly doubled risk of any mental disorder later in life, irrespective of their birth weight. Core outcomes revealed that NICU admission significantly increased the likelihood of any mental disorder, multiple mental illnesses, separation anxiety disorder, specific phobia, ADHD, and oppositional defiant disorder. This elevated risk for any psychiatric problem, multiple psychiatric problems, and oppositional defiant disorder persisted into adolescence, as reported by both parents and the adolescents themselves.
They are now conducting studies looking at the older siblings of children that go to NICU.
Similarly, we have many studies into the effects on parents and also those who work within NICU. No one comes out unscathed.
My girls’ incubators: one box glowing vivid ultraviolet, the other one covered in a blanket. Willow in her blue capsule is wearing an eye mask and curled up in a little nest, and both she and her sister Kitty have CPAP masks strapped tight against their tiny little faces, the faces I had waited so long to see.
A young nurse spoke to me first, and I was instructed on how to touch them, how to interact with my own babies. “Premature babies’ skin is very sensitive,” she said. “Don’t stroke them, firm touches only, place your hands on them and don’t move them too much.” I don’t know how I even heard her for all the beeping, beeping I had only heard before during the final nine days of my grandmother’s life.
Scared, I looked to the nurse and I begged her through tears to promise me they will be okay. How could she say no? I didn’t give her the option to say no. She looked into my eyes and said “yes.” I implored her to promise me, and less convincingly, she replied, “I promise.”
I was 35, and my partner was 29. His first children; he changed his first nappy while his babies were in the incubator.
The nurse was younger, in her mid-20s. Imagine the weight of responsibility?
I hear people talking about Letby and her encouraging families to take breaks. This is common practice. I struggled to establish my milk supply, had a chronic illness and a severe uterine infection, and needed to recover. It wasn’t just one NICU nurse who encouraged taking breaks, getting fresh air, something good to eat, and sleep; it was everyone. Were they devious? I believe not.
I have also heard that Letby became fond of the infants she cared for. It is my experience that not only do NICU nurses enjoy caring for twins but that continuity of care leads people to create a bond. My own babies had two nurses. We liked them both and the only upsetting issue I had with them was when one of the nurses decided to dress my babies for the first time. I wanted to be the first to do that. She was very upset she had upset me and explained she thought it would be a nice surprise. Of course I forgave her but these seemingly small actions can be quite upsetting for parents so disempowered. With that said there are things that Letby did that I personally have not done however I have known others to do so.
In my work I am very rigid and while I have pictures of me with my clients and their babies I don’t share them, I also don’t post any image of a birth on social media without expressed consent. I received a card from a client with her baby on and I am rather ashamed to say I would have to look to find it. But I am not a baby person but for my own. I have known many people within maternity from Drs to Doulas who have pictures of the first babies they were at the birth of and who hold onto keepsakes. It is in my opinion and my opinion only inappropriate but perhaps people may consider my approach a little disconnected on the face of things. The fact is all of the above is perception and lacks any basis in fact. I am incredibly warm towards my clients and still know them to this day but I don’t have keepsakes. I mention the above only to try and encourage analytical thought particularly on behalf of those who have for whatever reason made judgements about me based on someone else’s opinions.
My girls are now almost ten, and apart from tiny pinprick scars on their hands and feet from the IV lines, there are no lasting visible scars from their time in NICU. Had it not been for NICU, they wouldn’t be here today.
I have worked in maternity for almost five years. The reason I didn’t do so sooner is because I was only able to look at the pictures of my own twins three years ago and spent an entire day sobbing. It broke me; it broke us. It was due to my later training as a birth doula that caused me great concern about poor information and people seemingly not understanding what “evidence-based” means, which led me to campaign.
As my children grew up, while they look identical to most people, they act very differently. I was fixated on the idea, as is perpetuated by psychology with its focus on twins and the twin model, that if one had what looked like autism, so too would the other. Then, by chance, I met someone who asked the right questions about my birth, and it was that which caused me to contact my children’s pediatrician/neonatologist to ask whether he could review their clinical notes and consider if they, in fact, had Twin Anemia Polycythemia Sequence (TAPS), one of the two conditions previously mentioned. It was not mentioned at the time, however, their clinical picture looked like it could well be, and the fact that my “donor” twin was struggling developmentally. He did just this and diagnosed, at the age of six and a half, that they did, in fact, have TAPS. I requested their clinical notes, and it was the first time that I saw that my twin who struggles was born with severe acidosis, which is found in the blood of babies who have experienced a hypoxic event, a lack of oxygen to the brain.
Thinking about now versus then, has anything changed regarding the care I and my girls received? What I can say is that there were many changes circa 2015, and they followed inquiries into terrible crimes against children, inquiries that again took years to complete and concluded with the decision that the answer to the issue of child abuse would be a central reporting system. There is zero evidence that this has had any beneficial effect. This is where the social admissions come in. A social admission is when a neonate is admitted to NICU without a clinical need because there is a concern that the child’s parents are a risk to the child, or there is some history of domestic violence. They do this because NICU has a higher number of staff and high security for entering and leaving. My girls’ NICU was not busy, and there were empty cots. I remember only three other families, and two were admitted due to social admissions. I was evicted from the parents’ room while trying to bring in my breast milk to accommodate a mother who was at risk of domestic abuse. Of course, this meant I had to make a forty-minute journey to be with my babies, and this impacted my early milk supply. Social services should be supporting families like this and can access funds for parents to stay close to the hospital in a safe house or perhaps offer local accommodation to parents like me instead of on-site accommodation. Beyond my personal grievance with this, of course, they pose a significant risk to all babies who need to be in a sterile environment receiving a good standard of care. Staff must be focused on babies who require clinical support and not guarding children whose parents are being assessed for safeguarding reasons. There is also an increased risk of bacterial and viral infections being brought into a NICU unit.
Not only have these measures failed to benefit anyone, but they also serve only to make things so much more complicated for any number of government agencies that may be tasked with overseeing that area of provision.
The idea that in 2015, like now, there has been some kind of cultural or moral tectonic shift and children, babies, women, families, and clinicians are safe is beyond naive.
Try this: pick any service provided by government money, whether it be waste and recycling, education, or health, and file a complaint about something you are unhappy or concerned about. Just one complaint, and don’t give up until you have a result. Exhaust every channel and go to every regulatory body, even go to your union. Just don’t give up and see how far it gets you. If you don’t start drinking at airport hours, talking to the weeds in the garden you have been too busy to manage, or die of natural causes, please let us all know how it went and whether you got justice or any remedial action. You might end up being considered the problem.
Goodness, now imagine if you did that with a continual commentary from people who don’t know you professing to know exactly what happened when they don’t have a clue and amount to people making wild stabs in the dark. People who would otherwise be entirely credible making discrediting comments.
Where my work took me with twin and multiple families includes those who have lost children and suffer misplaced guilt. It is like a weighted vest. As someone looking in, as we are blessed that both our twins are here, losing one twin or multiple children is a complex tragedy because if you lose one baby, you have anniversaries and moments where the memory of them passing comes to mind, and mourning and grief can pour out of you. However, with twinless twins or triplet-less triplets, every birthday, milestone, and celebration serves as an anniversary of the one who passed. Often, when families lose all of their multiples, it too can amplify the grief, as it is seldom the case that both babies simply pass away, whether in utero or as newborns, at precisely the same time.
Every time someone from social media casually suggests something as being a fact about any one of the infants, they add another layer to this misplaced guilt.
Those on the side that agree with the prosecution that it was Lucy are almost certainly going to cause parents to question their judgment every single time you comment on it. They may ask themselves whether they should have noticed something about her that pointed towards her being someone who could commit such crimes. They may well ask themselves if there was anything at all they did or did not do that meant there was an opportunity for their child or children to be harmed. They may forever feel a sense of guilt about leaving the cot side for whatever reason they did, if they did or when they did.
Those who do not agree with the prosecution and believe in Lucy’s innocence may cause parents to question in a different way, or they may simply feel nothing but anger and frustration as their feelings don’t seem to factor in but to pick it apart. Beyond whether it was or wasn’t Lucy lies another world of self-blame. Some of the points and questions made about what might have “really” happened may cause parents to question themselves and each other.
Was it Lucy? Were we wrong, or did we miss something?
Who was it? Was it someone we felt we could trust, and was our trust the cause of our babies’ suffering?
Was it a vaccine? Should we have refused a vaccine?
Was it this vaccine? Why did we agree to a vaccine, and could the vaccine have caused what happened?
Was it a virus/bacteria? We should have taken better measures to keep good hygiene when touching our babies. Should we have given birth somewhere else?
Was it a study? Did we sign up to a study, and if so, did that cause what happened?
I know this because, to this very day, while I have both of my twins living their best life despite a degree of difficulty, we ask ourselves questions all the time. In my work, I have had appalling things said about what happened in my own situation. With people who know nothing about the circumstances and without the benefit of information, they make remarks that directly place the blame with me in some way.
I have personally tried to make contact with other commentators and “experts”, and I am ignored or, controlled and worse still, treated in the most callous and dismissive way possible.
I am asked if I believe one thing or another, which I do not, and I am very grateful I am not the person who is tasked with that ultimate question. My research tells me that there needs to be a retrial, not only for Lucy Letby to have a fair hearing but also for the families.
I am asked if I can get a clinician to corroborate my concerns, which is highly insulting as it is by choice that I am not clinical, and I have taught clinicians. I was even sent a conversation between two clinicians that was so rudimentary it infuriated me because their testimony is considered better than mine.
I have been told by one journalist, with whom I had one brief five-minute phone call, that after twenty-five years, she could tell I was untrustworthy and referred to my partner, another parent victim who is part of our story, as a proxy.
There are questions that need answering because among the infants in the Letby case (including sibling stillbirths) are thirteen multiples born to six mothers; three pregnancies that we know with a degree of certainty shared a placenta and had some treatment for the conditions I mentioned. This is a significant and questionable anomaly, as is the “National Maternity and Perinatal Audit” carried out by the NHS looking at “Maternity Care for Women with Multiple Births and Their Babies.” The study examined the “feasibility of assessing care using data from births between 1 April 2015 and 31 March 2017 in England, Wales, and Scotland.” This audit saw the perinatal mortality or death rate halved. It has since shot back up. The Countess of Chester was not participating in this audit, but the hospital that was best equipped to give specialist care was, and most of the mothers had received some antenatal care at that hospital.
The outcome of this audit led to funding and centers being given control over the care of multiples. I am concerned that potentially the protection of numbers for the benefit of funding then, and continued funding now, is leading to women who have high-risk multiple pregnancies not being under the care of specialist centers that have signed up to input data into all and any twin and multiples-related database, including one that raises ever deeper concerns.
How do I know all this? Because I lived it. I worked in maternity. I knew very influential people, and I have seen, heard, and experienced things that make me an expert in this area and able to evidence this all with evidence unique to me and with information found in the public domain.
To the Letbyists, no, it might not be easy or a quick fix, but I am motivated beyond Letby, and I cannot make complex information simple. With that said, as Shannon would say we have seen an awful lot of sitting rather than pissing and getting off the pot.
By Sarah Hawkins
Editing By Shannon Evans.