May• 2019 | 13A few days later at my antenatal
check-up, my GP wasn’t at all worried
about my difficult night. Two weeks
later I saw him again and he said I
could go on for another two weeks.
However, I presented at the hospital
in the early stages of labour a couple
of days later, but was promptly sent
home as a dramatic first-time mum.
When I returned the following
morning, the nurse listened for a
heartbeat, but there wasn’t one. She
seemed angry at me for not having
noticed this and told us that the baby
had passed away. We were shocked,
devastated and confused. How could
this happen?
My usual GP didn’t attend that
terrible day. We were not permitted
to see the baby. After the birth I
haemorrhaged and the attending
doctor complained about me “getting
everything wrong”. It all felt like a
nightmare. Through our tears, Henry
and I comforted each other, vowing
that we would not give up on our
dream of a family.
Empty-handed, we returned to
our empty new home with its empty
nursery. I had spent two days in
hospital, was completely shattered
and in a state of disbelief. It seems
unfathomable now, but following
the delivery, Daniel was taken from
us, kept briefly at the hospital, then
transferred to the Royal Women’s
Hospital for an autopsy and burial,
as was the practice at the time.
Without so much as a glimpse
of Daniel, and no funeral or burial
place, we had no focal point whereby
to mourn him. At the time neither
birth nor death certificates were
issued for stillborn babies. All I had
as proof that Daniel had existed
was the taupe dressing gown I had
bought for the hospital, the nurse’s
referral and the hospital receipts.
At the six-week follow-up visit with
my GP, Henry and I were informed
that there had been nothing
medically wrong with Daniel. The
doctor asked if perhaps I’d eaten
seafood prior to the birth – this was
the only explanation offered. There
was no apolog y for not attending the
birth or checking up on me during
my hospital stay. There was no
sympathy and no reassurances.
A year later, with much trepidation
and elation we welcomed Emma into
our lives. She filled our hearts and
home with all the delight a healthy
new baby brings. This was both
wonderful and bittersweet.
I joined a group for parents of
stillborn babies called SANDS where
I found some solace. Life was full
and busy. Over the next 12 years,
our family grew to include Robert,
Rebecca and Elise – though Daniel
was still deep in our hearts. With
the help of SANDS, we lobbied theDo you have a tale to tell? We’ll pay
cash for any original and unpublished
story we print. See page 5 for details
on how to contribute.