The beginning of 2025 was supposed to be gentle. For Kayleigh and her partner, life revolved around nappies, bedtime routines, and the quiet joy of watching their children grow. Their youngest, Delilah-Rai Reid-Floyd, had just turned one — a bright, curious baby, full of expressions and personality, the baby of a family of four.But one small moment changed everything.
One evening in January, as Kayleigh bathed Delilah-Rai, her fingers brushed against something that stopped her heart — a small, pea-sized lump on her daughter’s face. It didn’t belong there. A mother’s instinct screamed that something was wrong. The very next morning, Kayleigh called the GP, desperate to have her daughter seen.
What followed was not reassurance — but disbelief, suspicion, and delay.
Because Kayleigh was unable to attend the appointment herself, Delilah-Rai’s father took her to the GP. Instead of careful concern, the lump was dismissed. Worse still, the parents were treated not as frightened caregivers, but as suspects. Accusations were made. Questions implied harm. For Kayleigh, the shock of those words cut deeply — how could a parent seeking help be made to feel like a criminal?
Still, she refused to stop pushing.
Delilah-Rai was referred to Russells Hall Hospital in Dudley, where scans suggested the lump might be a paranasal cyst — something uncommon, but not life-threatening. Kayleigh was told an ENT referral would follow within a week. She went home holding onto that fragile reassurance.
But the call never came.
Weeks passed. Then months. When Kayleigh chased the referral, she discovered it had never been made. During that time, the lump grew — rapidly and visibly. Delilah-Rai’s face began to change. What had once been a tiny swelling became something impossible to ignore.
By April, Delilah-Rai was finally seen by an ENT specialist, who immediately referred her to Birmingham Children’s Hospital. Again, the family was told to wait — this time, three more months. Kayleigh looked at her daughter and knew waiting was not an option. She sent photographs showing how quickly the mass was growing.
Two days later, an appointment was suddenly available.
In May, scans revealed how serious the situation had become. A biopsy was scheduled — not immediately, but for mid-July. Every day between felt like stolen time. The tumor continued to expand, distorting Delilah-Rai’s tiny face, pushing against bone, changing her appearance week by week.
Then, on July 30, the family received news they desperately wanted to believe: doctors said the mass was likely desmoid fibromatosis — rare, aggressive, but not cancer. Surgery was planned for August 7. Surgeons would reconstruct her jaw and cheekbones using a titanium plate. For the first time in months, Kayleigh allowed herself to breathe.
That relief lasted only days.
Further testing shattered everything. The truth emerged just before surgery — Delilah-Rai had soft tissue cancer. The tumor had already eaten into her bones. Surgery was no longer safe. Chemotherapy was discussed.
But there was no time.
Only days later, Delilah-Rai passed away.
She was just one year old.
Kayleigh’s grief is layered with unbearable questions. What if the referral had been made when promised? What if the lump hadn’t been dismissed? What if the biopsy had happened sooner? “With so many delays and mistakes,” she said, “I believe the system failed her. She deserved better. She deserved a chance.”
Now, legal action is underway. Investigations have been launched. Both NHS trusts have issued condolences and promised reviews. But for Delilah-Rai’s family, no report can bring back what was lost.
Delilah-Rai was more than a patient. She was cheeky. Loving. Strong-willed. She knew exactly what she wanted, even at one year old. Her youngest brother, just four months old at the time of her death, will never remember her. Her older siblings — aged 11, seven, and three — now carry a grief no child should ever have to understand.
A GoFundMe has been created to support the family as they navigate life after unimaginable loss. But Kayleigh’s mission goes beyond financial help. She shares Delilah-Rai’s story so other parents might recognize the warning signs sooner — and so no child’s illness is dismissed because it is rare, inconvenient, or misunderstood.
Delilah-Rai’s life was heartbreakingly short. But her story is powerful.
It is a reminder that parents must be heard.
That delays matter.
That children cannot afford to wait.
And that behind every small face is a future worth fighting for.
Though her laughter no longer fills their home, Delilah-Rai’s memory lives on — not just in her family’s hearts, but in every parent who reads her story and chooses to push harder, ask louder, and never stop advocating for their child.
