When his granddaughter died he decided to save other babies

Just after 6am on a sleepy Saturday morning in Worthing, West Sussex, the only sound to be heard is the steady hum of Roy Stagg’s motorbike. Thirty-five miles away in Eastbourne, premature triplets born overnight are clinging to life. And in the secure, temperature-controlled box on the back of his bike, Roy is carrying more than just a delivery – he’s a courier for the precious gift of breast milk, a lifeline for fragile newborns fighting to survive.

Every journey holds meaning when you’re riding for a cause. But for this softly spoken volunteer, who leads the milk donor programme in Sussex, every mile he travels carries the memory of a little girl he never got to see grow up – his granddaughter, Maggie Mae, who died at just 19 days old in 2011. “I ride in her name,” Roy, 71, says gently, his voice steady but heavy with feeling. “She’s with me on every trip.”

A former Sussex Police officer with a lifetime of biking behind him, including on the road policing unit, Roy never imagined his retirement would take this shape. But then, no grandparent expects to lose a grandchild.

Maggie Mae was born prematurely at 24 weeks. She spent her short life in the neonatal intensive care unit at St Peter’s Hospital in Chertsey, Surrey. “She was very poorly, and required a number of transfusions. She battled for 19 days, but in the end her underdeveloped lungs and an infection took her from her mum and dad, and from the rest of us,” he explains.

In those heartbreaking weeks, Roy noticed “gallant knights” constantly arriving at St Peters – men on motorcycles, arriving at all hours. “I was too preoccupied at the time to appreciate the job they were doing, and the contribution they made in Maggie’s care.”

Months later, still processing his family’s heartbreaking loss, he was astonished to discover that the riders behind those life-saving deliveries were all volunteers. “It made me even more determined to join and put something back for all the hard work given not just to Maggie but to everyone all over the country.”

He signed up for SERV Sussex (Service by Emergency Rider Volunteers, Sussex), one of several UK groups that transports urgent blood products and donor breast milk to support the Hearts Milk Bank, part of the Human Milk Foundation (HMF), a charity working to ensure nationwide access to donor human milk.

The HMF was founded by Gillian Weaver and Natalie Shenker in 2018. Gillian is a global human milk banking specialist. Natalie is a doctor. They were fuelled by frustration at the lack of assured donor milk supply to hospitals to support the most vulnerable babies, as well as the difficulties families faced when breastfeeding was impossible – and who could not dream of accessing donor milk except in very rare circumstances.

“In a similar model to the UK Blood Bank Service we are establishing donor milk hubs to ensure all parts of the country have equitable access to donor human milk,” says a spokesperson for the charity.

Breast milk provides a host of benefits for the most poorly babies, including reducing the risk of gastrointestinal disease necrotising enterocolitis (NEC), providing essential nutrients, growth factors and hormones, improving brain development and being more easily digestible and better absorbed than formula milks.

In 2015, Roy delivered breast milk daily to the father of a newborn in East Sussex whose wife had died giving birth. “Seeing that – it means a lot to be able to help. I feel so very proud to be involved in what we do.”

The service also supports those mothers struggling or unable to breastfeed for whatever reason, be it due to mastectomy following a cancer diagnosis or prematurity. The team also delivers the donated milk to special care baby units in a number of hospitals.

“There is a certain joy in the milk programme – meeting those donating milk and delivering directly to those that need it, who are equally happy to receive it,” he says.

A bike relay can be set up instantaneously across the country if demand is suddenly required, drawing on further Milk Bank hubs with riders waiting to hand over the precious resource. The position is unpaid, the 12-hour shifts unsociable and the stakes impossibly high. But among the riders there is a palpable sense of camaraderie – capable couriers helping tiny babies; it’s a profoundly moving mission and clear that they view this endeavour as a privilege.

“It’s about what we can do for people,” explains Roy.

Last year the team transported 590 litres of donated breast milk to mothers at home or in the hospital or to the milk bank, covering 4,000 miles, in a bid “to help little babies that are struggling”.

In 2016, the charity purchased a new motorcycle fleet. “The chairman asked me if I would like to have the motorcycle named after Maggie,” he tells me.

The bike’s naming was an emotional moment. “My daughter Lauren and her husband, who went on to lose another baby, came to the presentation. It meant so much to them. We had funerals for two babies, so they decided they couldn’t go through that again. And it felt like Maggie’s name would live on by helping others. When people see the name on the bike, I quite happily and proudly tell them the story.”

That dedication came at a cost once. He was on a night run to Worthing with frozen blood products when a car pulled out unexpectedly. He had no time to react.

“I came off the bike. Broke some ribs. I called the controller and found out that the products were still delivered.”

It’s this quiet humility and strength that defines his dedication. He says he is old enough to remember how milk was once shared informally among mothers in this country, before official services existed.

“My mum probably did it or received some from neighbours without any checks being done, or that sort of thing; the transfer of breast milk has gone on for years. It was just what people did.

“Now, it’s safer and properly managed. But it’s still about one mother helping another.”

He now helps train new riders, reminding them they’re not emergency services – there are no blue lights, no sirens. “We ride safely and predictably”. And always, for him, with Maggie in mind.

He doesn’t know how many lives the team has helped save. But each time they load up a bike and fasten the lid on the cool box, they think of the families at the other end.

“I know how it feels to be in their shoes,” he points out.

As dawn breaks, another baby begins a new fight for life.

Somewhere, a mum waits for milk that hasn’t arrived yet. But it’s coming. Because Maggie Mae’s name is on the tank, and her grandpa is already on his way.