Meshael was my only daughter. She wasn't my birth daughter, but I looked after her from three months before she was born until the day she died. Let me explain!

I was married in 1984 to an Arab in Dubai. One day his family turned up, which was suprising in itself, to visit us. To cut a long story short, my husbands sister was pregnant, she had been raped, by her own son. My goodness if that wasn't enough, the family had decided that it was such a terrible "shame" on their good names to have stuff like this going on and had brought her to my husband for him to KILL her. You can imagine what was going in on my head. My husband was very Westernised and tried to explain that it was the custom in Muslim countries that any woman not married who was pregnant should be killed. I was furious because firstly the poor woman was RAPED for Gods sake and secondly she had the mind of an eight year old child. After quite a lot of heated discussion the family agreed that the offending sister would stay with us until the baby was born.

The saddest part of the story was that this poor sister (Fatima) was too scared to tell anyone what had happened. Finally, when someone noticed she was six months pregnant,
it was too late to take any other action.

The moment I fell in love with my daughter was the moment I heard her heartbeat at the first scan I took Fatima to. I knew that there was no way I could let anything happen to her. I spoke to my husband and he agreed with me that when the time came, we would
take the baby and raise her as our own. And we did.

When she was 18 months old, I left my husband (by now an alcoholic) and came back to UK. My family and I have been estranged for most of my life but I hoped that they would back me. They didn't do much to help but in the end I managed to find a nursery,
a house and a job and Meshael and I lived a normal life.




This is a beautiful and loving gift for Angel Meshael from my dear friend, Carol, mom to Angel Michael.

One day when she was five or six the dentist noticed that her baby teeth had rotted away. It was odd because I was very careful about brushing her teeth and sweets etc. They decided that it would be best to remove them all under anaesthetic so did a routine blood test.
That was the beginning of the worst time of my life.

After months of tests and hospitals they found she had something called Fanconi Anaemia - a genetic disorder affecting children. There is no cure. A bone marrow transplant can prolong their lives but they are so prone to cancers that it would only be a prolongation.

For a few years she was almost symptom free. She had regular check ups and blood tests and had to have the odd blood transfusion.

There wasn't too much information available in this country and I left it a lot to the doctors who I believed would do their best. Too be honest, I think I stuck my head in the sand too.
I couldn't bear to think of the consequences. However, things got worse and worse.

In 1997, after a very bad spell in hospital, the paediatrician told me there was nothing else they could do. I should take home to die. She also wanted to tell Meshael that she was going to die. It was four days before Christmas. How could you even think of telling a child something like that then? I told her that I didn't want her to be told anything like that. She got quite nasty and insisted that Meshael had the right to know. After a few heated words, we left it that I would think about what she had said and we would discuss it with the haemotologist. Dr Wonke is a lovely doctor and was furious that paeds had gone over her head. Although it was my decision that Meshael would NOT be told, she told me
that she agreed wholeheartedly with me.

Well, Meshael got through that Christmas, and the next. But it was getting worse and worse. The bleeds were becoming more intense and frequent. Transfusions were almost every week. Her platelet counts were so low. She almost died three times. I can remember once being so stressed that I wished that a bus would come and knock her off the pavement - just so
it would be over for her instead of having to go through all that treatment.

Finally, in June 2001, two days before her 15th birthday Meshael died.
I never told her how serious it was but she knew though and asked her Godmother Marcia to look after me when she was gone.

I was lucky to have one perfect night, the Saturday before she died. The morphine was just kicking in and she was out of pain for the first time in weeks. We talked and laughed and had just the best night ever. Her face was glowing out of the pillow. She died two days later. Her heart was failing, her kidneys had failed. I had to let them turn off the drugs
and let her go peacefully.

I have never known such pain. I believe that nothing will ever
be able to hurt me again after feeling that pain.

I am so glad that I brought Meshael up to believe in spiritual things. She had all kinds of healing and meditation and met lots of lovely people who helped her
to understand about Angels and religion.




Last year I was invited by my sister to a TV recording of "The Sixth Sense". I had no idea who the person was at the time but it turned out to be someone called Colin Fry. He is a medium. Well, I was quite sceptical when I walked in, but he picked me out of hundreds of people. He started to talk about conversations I had had with different people in the last few days before the recording and he went into so much detail about so many things. I have no doubt that was my little girl. There are no two other people who could know what he knew.

He talked about the rose bush my friend had tried to buy for Meshael. He said it was beautiful but shame about the colour because the colour was wrong. How could he had known that my friend Cloe came crying to me because she had wanted to get a BLUE rose for Meshael and couldn't.

In the end Cloe opted for a rose bush called "The Breath of Life" it was peach colour! He told me, as I already knew, that I had had to make the most difficult decision in my life - but she said that I had made the right decisions before and after her death. The most important thing was that she wanted me to know that she was alright. I think that was my turning point. I came out of the studio on a hot air balloon. And I felt for the first time totally at peace within myself. I KNOW that she is OK whereever she is. We were beamed out all over the world apparantly and recently they came back to shoot another programme about how I felt about the reading and what was going on in my life at the moment.

Meshael was so special, she had left me a letter that was written as if she knew that she was going to leave me. On my birthday, I was crying my eyes out and howling. As I got into my car the locket, which I keep on the rear view mirror containing her picture and lock of hair, was WIDE open, facing me as I got in. The locket has never been opened since the day
I put it there. I know she wanted me know she was here.



Meshael never knew about the circumstances of her birth - I am so glad. It would not have mattered if I had given birth to her - she could not be any more my daughter than she was. We were a unit and I felt for ages like someone had cut off my other hand. I never wanted children of my own but I think God sent me one of his most precious Angels to look after for a little while. Wish it could have been longer but now I am sure that
we will be re-united one day.

Well, I am getting on with my life. Luckily I work and that gives me something to do with my time. I have lots of animals and so many wonderful friends. We set up a web-site for Fanconi Anaemia in UK. Please take a look, there's a photo of me and Meshael there too. Oh yeah, and I just completed my Fostering Course. I plan to help other families with sick kids, to give them a bit of respite in a safe environment. I need to put all the knowledge I learned
with Meshael into something positive.

Thanks for listening, it was difficult to condense everything
that happened in Meshael's short life into such a short space.