Hearing Jim’s name always brings gladness to our hearts.
Scott - Jim's dad
A healthy, happy, adored little boy, Jim was fourteen months when he went to sleep for the last time. We thought he was having a rare sleep in, but when we checked on him, it was clear he wasn’t breathing.
He was cold in his cot.
My partner, and Jim’s mum Sarah, is a trained midwife and nurse. Despite her training, nothing could have warned us of Jim’s fate. He’d had a sniffle the night before but there was nothing to predict that he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. We called an ambulance, and when other scenarios were ruled out Jim’s death was ruled as sudden unexpected death in childhood.
We were allowed some time to say goodbye. Our eldest, Ruby, who was five, just lay down beside him. It was so hard. And then the ambulance took little Jim away.
We live in a beautiful town of 700 people. We were the town’s only publicans, so everyone knew us. Which meant everyone knew about our loss. It was hard to find space to grieve, but thanks to Red Nose (then SIDS and Kids), we were connected with support.
It took a while for the loss to really hit us, but when it did, our counsellor helped, calling to check in on us. We soon began fundraising for Red Nose and hosted a fundraiser at our pub. We also volunteered ourselves for genetic research to see if there was a genetic identifier for sudden unexpected death in childhood.
It’s years later, but we still miss Jim, and wonder what he would be up to now. The ongoing support of friends and family has meant a lot to us. Recently, our friends have ‘bred’ an Iris to sell with a percentage of sales going to Red Nose. They called it ‘Little Jim.’ It is a beautiful tribute that the whole town has been keen to get behind.
There are many different ways you can help people who have experienced the death of a baby or child. Hearing Jim’s name always brings gladness to our hearts. Having a flower named after him has meant so much to us.
