Hello Madness, Goodbye Joy

*trigger warning*

This text features a story about a mother losing her son to knife crime. If you are currently dealing with or have dealt with something similar please be mindful about reading on. 

I awoke with sharp gripping pains in my stomach, the room felt as though it was spinning, sweat cascaded down my face, nausea rose, my mouth began to water a sour taste began to form from under my tongue, I am spinning, I’m bleeding, I tap my husband “something is wrong I groan, call an ambulance” he switches on a light, the sight alone quickens his actions as he dials 999. 

I feel faint and struggle to keep my eyes open. Bright lights shine in my eyes, I am passing a corridor, I have been sick, I can smell it and taste it, although unsure as to when. I am so tired, unable to focus, what on Earth is wrong with me. I fall asleep…. I wake to a doctor’s voice calling my name. I hear him say “you have had an atopic pregnancy. “no I grumble, I am not even pregnant” he pulls out a scan to show me a blockage in my tube. 

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Everything is a blur, trying to take it in but I feel weak and dazed unable to truly focus. I immediately feel immersed in sadness, the realization comes, I was pregnant before I even knew it I had lost it. There was more to come. More tests revealed I had an infection in the liver, my pelvic had inflamed, particles had somehow connected to my liver causing the infection to spread. The condition was treatable but there was a fear I could be left infertile. What a blow.

After several months, many more hospital admissions, excruciating pain, and discomfort the symptoms began to fade. We already had a son so I fell into motherhood and my career. Then one day I woke up feeling sick, I got up to use the toilet and it simply felt like fire was pouring from me. Worried I had a relapse I dressed immediately and went to see the doctor. To my surprise I was not sick again, in fact, I was pregnant. Nothing could contain my excitement. I smiled so big my top lip stuck to my gums. 



I barely left the surgery before I began to call loved ones with my news. The pregnancy was difficult, I was sick throughout. As my stomach grew so did my smile and pride. I stared at my tummy in the bath as I marveled at the hand and then the foot that reshaped my tummy as they moved around. I would stand in front of the mirror staring at my swollen tummy excited for the life that was about to emerge.

On Thursday 27th June 2002 following 1.5 days of labor pain, I was informed my baby, which we now knew to be a boy was in distress. He had a bowel movement inside of me and was breached. I was to be taken to theatre immediately for a C-section to be performed. Kyron Antonio Webb came fighting into the world at 16:00. He did not cry immediately, fear took me again as I waited in silence. There was a slap, a few words, a cough and then screams allowing tears of relief to escape my eyes. My king was placed into my arms as we were wheeled to recovery. My miracle baby.

The road to parenting is never easy, there are cute moments when they are babies, exciting moments as they reach milestones, insightful moments as they begin to explore the world, proud mummy moments as they begin to achieve goals, make an impact on the world, come into their own displaying their unique characteristics. The many I love you mummy, that change as they get older into “mummy can I have “ followed by “I love you mum you’re the best” once they have achieved their desired outcome.

Then we roll into the tantrum teenager stage crosswords, banging doors, loud music, and many tears 
This is then followed by our children embracing their rights of passage as they begin to seek independence, sadly for me this is where my dream shattered, for Kyron’s journey was brutally interrupted October 17th, 2017 at approximately 19:00 as he stood smiling with acquaintances a knife was plunged 7cm’s into his heart in an unprovoked attack in Manchester. This followed with a second attack where the knife was plunged 7cm into his back.

It took me over three years to conceive him, and three days to watch him die. He began his life in my arms the two of us alone in a room with doctors. Fifteen years later he died in my arms the two of us alone in a room surrounded by doctors. Kyron’s first home was on Worsley Bridge Road, the street where he died was Worsley Avenue. My soldier came into the world fighting and left it the same. 

My life changed significantly the day I heard I was pregnant with Kyron, the joy and excitement were indescribable the enormity of his murder left me shattered. His conception left me feeling whole and complete. His murder threw me off a cliff leaving me completely shattered. His life enabled me to walk with elated joy, then his death left me to walk broken and in pain. The only thing that remained was the same was the love I had for my son. It grew from October 17th, 2001 the day I found out I was pregnant, it burst June 27th, 2002 when I first  held him in my arms, then multiplied October 17th, 2017 the day I heard he had been stabbed, and overflowed October 20th, 2017 the day I held him In my arms as he died. 


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I missed speaking to him daily, so I spoke through a journal, I mapped my journey through madness. Trapped in the mute of darkness I was able to pen grief and give it words my tongue was unable at the time to pronounce. 12 months later on October 20th, 2018, Kyron was reborn through the publication of my book “Kyron: Hello madness, Goodbye joy”. I have taken my love for my son and launched a cause in his name KAW community services LTD. 

Through KAW we explore the real impact of knife violence, young people’s needs, community needs, the purpose of the village and community cohesion to bring options and possible solutions, that will enable us to raise our children onto platforms of success as oppose to raising them high in their caskets as we march into their funeral.

As a form of emotional support to families, as well as providing a platform to embrace my truth, verbalize my truth and heal, I write a blog to evidence my journey as I rise from the ashes. I to have been reborn. You see I fell off the cliff as Rachel but rose from the ruin as the Phoenix. 





- Rachel Webb ( @riseofthephoenix.1)