Wilson-Howarth.com - - Under a Himalayan Sky: A Story of Love, Loss and Learning to Live

Under a Himalayan Sky: A Story of Love, Loss and Learning to Live

Publisher: Eye / Lightning Books, UK
Author: Jane Wilson-Howarth
Page count: 320
RRP: £8.99 / £12.99
ISBN: 978-1785634734

Published in the UK on 17th September 2026, and in North America in January 2027

Initially released in paperback and as an e-book; audio listeners will have to wait a little longer - while I get recording.

Our second child was conceived in Pakistan when I was beginning to establish myself as a child survival specialist. I imagined his straightforward delivery in the UK before we returned to Asia as a family of four and I’d continue my work. This memoir is a retelling of wee David’s story, from his stormy early weeks in Cambridge to his contented, laughter-filled years in Nepal, so our moods went from Fen-flat to Himalyan high. The book is about how giving David his best possible life shaped ours as well as my medical practice.

Our second child was conceived in Pakistan when I was beginning to establish myself as a child survival specialist. I imagined his straightforward delivery in the UK before we returned to Asia as a family of four and I’d continue my work. This memoir is a retelling of wee David’s story, from his stormy early weeks in Cambridge to his contented, laughter-filled years in Nepal, so our moods went from Fen-flat to Himalyan high. The book is about how giving David his best possible life shaped ours as well as my medical practice.

When our family moved to the remote river island of Rajapur, I began to craft a memoir about life in the exotic lowlands at the foot of the Himalayas but I wasn't ready to bring little David centre stage. In those early days, the story of his short life seemed too precious to share. Now though I see that he should be heard as he can teach parents and doctors alike important lessons on when medical intervention is right and when perhaps it isn’t.

When our family moved to the remote river island of Rajapur, I began to craft a memoir about life in the exotic lowlands at the foot of the Himalayas but I wasn't ready to bring little David centre stage. In those early days, the story of his short life seemed too precious to share. Now though I see that he should be heard as he can teach parents and doctors alike important lessons on when medical intervention is right and when perhaps it isn’t.

We reached the summit of another grassy ridge. This time the view was dazzling: snow-covered mountains against an azure sky, with the Annapurna Massif on the northern horizon. The delicious perfume from wild daphne bushes reached my nostrils. Freshly replastered red and white thatched houses were ahead of us, and the scent of woodsmoke told me that cooking fires were lit. I hoped we might buy freshly boiled buffalo milk for exuberant, three-year-old Alexander, and steaming glasses of sweet tea for ourselves. Alexander raced down to the village with his father on his heels. Barking dogs sprinted out from several directions and kids shrieked, ‘Children have come!’ Squawking chickens scrabbled for a few grains of rice in the courtyard, and a black pig oinked from a shady corner. David, our three-month-old, was laughing out loud at the ruckus.

We reached the summit of another grassy ridge. This time the view was dazzling: snow-covered mountains against an azure sky, with the Annapurna Massif on the northern horizon. The delicious perfume from wild daphne bushes reached my nostrils. Freshly replastered red and white thatched houses were ahead of us, and the scent of woodsmoke told me that cooking fires were lit. I hoped we might buy freshly boiled buffalo milk for exuberant, three-year-old Alexander, and steaming glasses of sweet tea for ourselves.
Alexander raced down to the village with his father on his heels. Barking dogs sprinted out from several directions and kids shrieked, ‘Children have come!’ Squawking chickens scrabbled for a few grains of rice in the courtyard, and a black pig oinked from a shady corner. David, our three-month-old, was laughing out loud at the ruckus.

Circling a whirlpool of pain, I submitted to pethidine. A foetal heart monitor was strapped to my bulging belly. Laughing gas didn’t it make me laugh – nor did help much – but the drugs did induce that odd phenomenon of time-compression and warped my understanding of what was happening. Yet I should have understood. This was my environment. I was obstetrics-trained but I was the patient now. ~ ~ ~ Doing a final pack in the Kathmandu hotel, with goodies stacked up all over our room, I slid a trunk noisily across the concrete floor. A dirty belly laugh came from the bed where David was lying. I moved the trunk again, and he laughed even louder. ‘Alexander – David’s laughing!’ I moved it a third time and there was yet more laughter from David. His mirth was infectious; Alexander and I were soon laughing with him and that made David laugh all the more. We laughed till we cried. This was the first time he’d laughed out loud. He’d achieved another ‘milestone’ proving that he was developing. He was reacting to his environment. He was sharing our world. Finally I was sure that he knew the joy of experiencing new sensations, and my doubts evaporated. We were right to have challenged David’s doctors in Cambridge. It was right for us to be together, a country we loved – albeit far from hospitals, where he’d been little more than a Fascinating Case, because here in Nepal wee David did not have to be perfect to be admired and to have fun.

Circling a whirlpool of pain, I submitted to pethidine. A foetal heart monitor was strapped to my bulging belly. Laughing gas didn’t it make me laugh – nor did help much – but the drugs did induce that odd phenomenon of time-compression and warped my understanding of what was happening. Yet I should have understood. This was my environment. I was obstetrics-trained but I was the patient now.

~ ~ ~

Doing a final pack in the Kathmandu hotel, with goodies stacked up all over our room, I slid a trunk noisily across the concrete floor. A dirty belly laugh came from the bed where David was lying. I moved the trunk again, and he laughed even louder. ‘Alexander – David’s laughing!’ I moved it a third time and there was yet more laughter from David. His mirth was infectious; Alexander and I were soon laughing with him and that made David laugh all the more. We laughed till we cried.
This was the first time he’d laughed out loud. He’d achieved another ‘milestone’ proving that he was developing. He was reacting to his environment. He was sharing our world. Finally I was sure that he knew the joy of experiencing new sensations, and my doubts evaporated. We were right to have challenged David’s doctors in Cambridge. It was right for us to be together, a country we loved – albeit far from hospitals, where he’d been little more than a Fascinating Case, because here in Nepal wee David did not have to be perfect to be admired and to have fun.

Reviews

You've written a real page-turner, a can't-put-down narrative. You've managed all the doctor stuff at the beginning – the part that when you described to me David's first few weeks of life and how the doctors treated you that I knew this had to be a book. You've managed convincing dialogue, and enough detail and description to draw the reader in. And remember that I know the story well, but still couldn't put it down. I love the quotes at the beginning of each chapter. I did expect some colour photos but then I came upon that lovely b&w photo of David at the beginning that was enough, really.

Hilary Bradt author and publisher

An important story
Dr Matthew Ellis, consultant paediatrician

Jane's precious baby is struggling under the burden of NHS 'treatment', so she takes him to a remote part of Nepal where her husband is working and where the local people see a beautiful blonde, happy baby who is there to be loved, like all new babies. This unexpectedly different culture and different way of perceiving disability, brings sunshine and laughter into David's short life and enables the whole family to share with him, simple joy and positive happiness.
Susie Green, OT

Sometimes perhaps a short life and a happy one is better than anything we doctors have to offer.
Dr James LeFanu in the Daily Telegraph

I enjoyed reading this very much. It was an emotionally intelligent, quietly evocative and inspirational read.
the publisher's proof-reader

What an incredibly moving memoir by a heroic mother (and family) to fight for the best future for their disabled son, David. Set against the exotic and beautifully portrayed backdrop of Nepal, this "slice of life" kept me enthralled through my rainy holiday (I was forced to stop reading, albeit temporarily, only by the plane landing back in the UK). I was moved to tears by the struggles Jane and her family endured but so filled with awe by her humility and bravery. A must read.
High Scribe

I have read an early draft of this book and found it incredibly moving and beautiful
Lorna

A beautifully written, tender portrayal of tough decisions and human connection
Gale Burns, poet

Under a Himalalyan Sky is astonishing in many ways: uplifting as you intend and also profound in unexpected ways
Mike S

Where to buy

Support local bookshops by ordering through bookshop.org and other online suppliers. Currently in stock at the Petworth bookshop, Sussex and in Bow Books in Royston Available to order/pre-order on amazon: click here UnderaHimalonAmazon

Support local bookshops by ordering through bookshop.org and other online suppliers.

Currently in stock at the Petworth bookshop, Sussex and in Bow Books in Royston

Available to order/pre-order on amazon: click here UnderaHimalonAmazon

Jane Wilson-Howarth

Reviews

Where to buy