Rhian Mannings, who hails from South Wales, tragically lost her one year old son George and her husband Paul just five days later (Image: Rowan Griffiths / Daily Mirror)Get daily celeb exclusives and behind the scenes house tours direct to your inboxMore Newsletters SubscribePlease enter a valid emailSomething went wrong, please try again later.More NewslettersWe use your sign-up to provide content in ways you’ve consented to and improve our understanding of you. This may include adverts from us and third parties based on our knowledge of you. More infoThank you for subscribing!We have more newslettersShow me See OurPrivacy Notice See OurPrivacy Notice×Group 28 Get daily celeb exclusives and behind the scenes house tours direct to your inboxInvalid emailSomething went wrong, please try again later.Sign UpNo thanks, closeWe use your sign-up to provide content in ways you’ve consented to and improve our understanding of you. This may include adverts from us and third parties based on our knowledge of you. More info×Group 28Thank you for subscribing!We have more newslettersShow MeNo thanks, closeSee our
Privacy NoticeIt was a normal February evening in 2012 when my life changed forever. I had been playing with George and my other children – Holly, then three, and Isaac, two – after bathtime, like always, but suddenly George collapsed and his little body fell backwards. I tried to pick him up but he was limp, like a dead weight. I knew then that something was wrong. In a panic I screamed at my husband Paul to call 999. We rushed George to the Royal Glamorgan Hospital in Llantrisant where the staff fought to save him, but within two hours he was gone.
Rhian lost her one year old son, George to symptomless pneumonia and influenza A
He seemed perfectly healthy and happy – there were no signs of an illness – but we later learned he had symptomless pneumonia and influenza A. We were lucky to get a cause of death because a lot of families don’t – but it will always baffle us how a child can be so ill but appear so well. The pain was indescribable. My world came crashing down – there wasn’t even a bereavement suite or anywhere quiet for us to sit. A nurse eventually found us a room and brought our dead son to us in her arms to say our goodbyes. How did we go from being a happy family of five to this in a matter of hours? George’s first birthday cards were still up in the living-room. There were no tears. No words. Just shock. Complete and utter shock. Then came all the questions in my mind – how will we get through this? What will we say to the other children? Eventually, we told them, “When you’re alive, you need your body and you have this big bundle of sparkle in your tummy. But once you die you don’t need your body any more and the sparkle is thrown into the sky and becomes a star that you can always see, wherever you are.” After George’s death we could see there was no system in place to pick us up and look after us as a family. When you lose a child, you go through so many emotions of guilt and blame – and so many questions that there are no answers to. We never heard from anyone, nobody reached out to us. We felt completely abandoned by the system. The other children went back to nursery a few days later, but Paul and I just sat there. He was adamant that we could have prevented this from happening. You do think as a parent, you’re there to protect your child, not sit back and watch this happen – but there was nothing we could do. It was a very difficult time. We were in despair – but we were in it together, or so I thought.
‘There were no tears. No words. Just shock. Complete and utter shock’
Just five days after her son’s death, Rhian tragically lost her husband Paul after he took his own life
But Paul, 32, couldn’t live with the unanswered questions and five days after George’s death, the unthinkable happened – he took his own life. He left in his car to head to the beach, clearly upset. I wasn’t particularly concerned, but he didn’t come back. After about an hour, I tried to call him but couldn’t get through. Less than two hours later I heard my mum scream as she opened my front door. Two policemen were explaining that Paul was gone. I remember having no emotion. I was silent. I just couldn’t believe it. My body shut down and I was in shock. I lost control of my entire body – I wet myself and was throwing up. Paul was the best husband and daddy and never suffered from mental health issues – he was loved and worshipped by his family. This is what trauma can do to someone. Our family was smashed in half. I’ll always wonder if there was anything I could have done differently. Paul and George had a joint funeral three weeks after Paul’s death in front of 1,000 people. I was awash with anxiety and flashbacks – I’d see George on the hospital bed and the police at my door – but I got through on pure adrenaline. In a way, it was a positive that the children were so young, but it’s also sad in another way because they have very limited memories of Paul and George. My mum, Christine, and dad, Alan, gave up their whole way of life for us. They were retired and moved in with me for nearly two years. We had to keep the routine going for the children and, in fact, they also kept me going more than they’ll ever know.
Following the devasting loss of their baby boy, Rhian said they were left ‘in despair’
Rhian set up the bereavement charity, 2wish to help other families dealing with loss and is now training for an Everest trek
They are the reason I was able to cope while my kids were growing up, because they did everything for me at that time. I wouldn’t have been able to manage without them. You can’t go through anything like that by yourself. Nobody in a professional capacity was there for us as a family. We rang phone numbers, we rang charities, we rang helplines daily for months, and nobody, not one of those organisations, got back to us. I don’t think there’s enough funding from the government or health boards and trusts to make sure families get the support they deserve. That was my drive when I set up the bereavement charity 2wish – to make sure that families who face the sudden, unimaginable and often traumatic death of a child get the support they deserve. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, I just knew I wanted to do something, so I set up 2wish within six months. The idea was just to help our local hospital where George died, but now we’re a charity that has supported more than 7,300 people in Wales and England affected by the sudden and unexpected death of a child or young person aged 25 and under. I had to create something that would be my boys’ legacy to make sure that they lived on – because we were failed. My next big adventure is underway. I’m preparing for an Everest Base Camp trek in mid-October with 14 people for 2wish, to help raise funds. Obviously, with everything that happened, I still suffer with my mental health and anxiety. I worry about leaving my children, even though Holly is now 16 and Isaac 15, but I think everyone needs to sometimes put themselves out of their comfort zone. I can’t wait to do it and I will continue doing it to raise awareness of sudden death in children.
Rhian is married to Craig, who she met through her charity 2Wish
(Image: Rowan Griffiths / Daily Mirror)
I’ve received a Pride Of Britain award and have been supported by Prince William. He came over and hugged me in front of everyone, which is mind-blowing. Nick Knowles and Coldplay’s Will Champion are also ambassadors of 2wish. I still can’t believe it’s happened, to be honest. I’ve managed to salvage a good, new way of life and have since remarried, having met IT manager Craig, 53, through my charity. He has supported our events since 2017 and after a coffee we realised there was a spark. We got married in April 2018. My charity and adventures are Paul and George’s legacy, and will hopefully mean no daddy will ever have to walk out of the family home and never, ever return. Rhian is trekking to Everest base camp for 2wish, which raises funds to help bereaved parents in England and Wales. For more info and to donate, visit 2wishStory SavedYou can find this story in My Bookmarks.Or by navigating to the user icon in the top right.Follow OK! MagazineFacebookTwitterCommentMore OnReal LifeHealthMental health
