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Andrew
Andrew
Rory Rochat entered into this world on September 17 1996.
Rory and I were euphoric - our third child and first son had
arrived! Rory remembers driving home from the hospital in
the early hours of the morning thinking he must be the luckiest
man alive. I can remember being on cloud nine - I had managed
to give birth without an epidural, (something that had not
been possible with my first two children). Little did we know
that 20 hours later we would be in the depths of despair -
our precious son taken away from us as a result of a Group
B Strep Infection.
My
pregnancy had been trouble-free up till about 30 weeks when
the first Rhesus antibodies were picked up. I hadn't had any
bleeding during the pregnancy, so their appearance was a mystery.
I had also had an Anti-D injection after my second daughter
Kate was born, so Rhesus Antibodies shouldn't have been a
problem. At 35 weeks I was referred to Kings College Hospital
for a Cordocentesis. The results showed that Andrew was getting
more and more anaemic as a result of the Antibodies. I was
advised to have an induction. If I didn't, the severe anaemia
could lead to heart failure in the baby. The induction went
well. I was adamant that I didn't want a Caesarean. I had
one with my first child Nicole. Kate was born naturally and
I much preferred that recovery.
We
were able to hold Andrew briefly after he was born. He had
to be given a total blood transfusion. I woke up early in
the morning and asked to see him, but wasn't allowed as they
were still busy with the transfusion. After breakfast, we
were informed that Andrew was 'poorly' - a term that I detest.
It sounds so innocuous, but in our case was anything but.
During
the course of the day, we visited Andrew, but had very little
time with him as the staff were so busy trying to help him.
When the Group B Strep infection was confirmed, our immediate
response was was to ask where it had come from. Imagine my
surprise when I was informed it came from my own body - the
same one that had nurtured my child all these months!
We
grew more concerned during the course of the day - Andrew
was not responding appropriately to treatment. An hour and
a half before he died, some improvement had occurred and he
appeared more stable.
We
were told that he would spend about 4 weeks in the SCBU before
going home. A half hour before he died, we were told that
the staff had tried everything and felt that they were losing
him. They suggested moving him from Kingston Hospital to St.
George's as they had a slightly different type of ventilator
that might be of benefit to Andrew. However, they stressed
that they did not know whether or not Andrew would survive
the journey. We rushed off to pack but we were called to Andrew's
side shortly afterwards. We were with him when he died. All
I wanted to do was to hold him. We took him to a room where
we could bath, dress and hold him. All the love, cuddles,
lullabies that we had planned to give him over his lifetime
were now condensed into a few short hours. I was terrified
that I would forget what he looked like. Our photos of him
are so important.
Much
too soon, we had to fetch our other children. The next morning
we had to explain to them that the baby brother that they
had talked to in my tummy, had died. Nicole, then 5 and a
half was particularly upset. Kate, who was 2 and a half at
the time did perhaps not fully understand what had happened.
Both girls were acutely aware of our distress, and became
very clingy as a result. I remember the agony of having to
register Andrew's birth and death on the same day. We took
a lot of care planning his funeral. It was all so quick and
unexpected. Hardly had we received our first bouquet of congratulation,
and all the sympathy flowers started to arrive. How could
a baby that weighed 6lbs 15oz at 35 weeks die within 20 hours?
Nicole had been born at 31 weeks weighing 3lbs, and had survived.
Why did we not know that I carried the Group B Strep infection?
If we had only known that a course of antibiotics during labour
would have prevented all this pain.
We
had moved to the U.K. from South Africa only 6 months before
Andrew's birth. My mother and father-in-law came out to be
with us. I was literally in a daze for months afterwards.
Sands was my lifeline. I had a tremendous urge to meet other
bereaved parents. I needed to meet people who had managed
to survive this living hell. I wasn't scared of death, only
of life. I often considered walking in front of a bus or train
- it was only the love and support of my husband and children
that kept me going.
Rory
and I went on a beautiful overnight hike in South Africa in
December '96. We scattered some of Andrew's ashes there. Some
other ashes were scattered on a beach with Nicole and Kate.
We have kept a few of his ashes with us. I was shocked at
how few family members and friends were able to talk about
Andrew with us. It is very important to me to keep his memory
alive in our family. I want my children to grow up knowing
that they have a brother, who has a name, and who is a part
of this family. I often talk to Nicole and Kate and we try
to imagine what Andrew would be doing in heaven. On his first
birthday, we bought a "caterpillar" cake and sang
Happy Birthday to him. When one of the children have a birthday,
I always put Andrew's name on the card as well. These are
all little things, but they keep his presence alive in our
home. My children are much more aware of death than any other
children their age. Nicole asked for a shoe box the other
day - to use as a coffin for her Barbies! I am now pregnant
with my fourth child. It is emotionally very challenging,
but we are trying to take one day at a time and not dwell
too much on what may or may not go wrong. The girls are thrilled.
I only hope that this time there will be good news to share
with them.
Sands
is still vital to me. I can't tell you how much it meant to
me to attend a meeting and be introduced as Andrew's mother!
As time goes on, people expect you to be "over it",
and opportunities to discuss one's feelings and memories get
fewer and fewer.
I
often try and picture Andrew as described in Kahlil Gibran's
The Prophet, in the chapter entitled On Death
"For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind
and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from
its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God
unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed
sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then shall you
begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you
truly dance."
Aletta
Rochat
UPDATE
Trevor
Rory Rocat arrived safely on July 21st 1998 - on Mum's birthday.
I was treated with antibiotics prior to the caesarean section.
Trevor was delivered at 34 weeks due to Rhesus problems. He
spent about 2 weeks in SCBU. He has brought our familiy much
joy and happiness. We still miss Andrew a lot - our love for
him and longing for him continue. We look forward to seeing
him again.
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