We had honestly given up hope and I was flustered when I saw the hospital was calling. ‘Hello?’ I answered. ‘Maddy, we’ve just received word of a transfer for Leo at the children’s, but they’re getting ready to move him now! Are you near-by? or you can go straight to the children’s – up to you really,’ the nurse said.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!!! We were literally just around the corner and of-course I wanted to be there!!
Dave dropped me at the door of the Women’s and I almost ran into the elevator and down the corridor of the fourth floor, coming in only seconds behind the PIPER team. I was absolutely ecstatic and almost bursting with happiness! Our little man was finally moving and we were approaching our final goal of getting home and back to Charlie – we couldn’t wait! It was all systems go and Mummy was going along for the ride this time!
It was such a different experience than the day we had first met with the team, there was no anxiety, but rather pride and a sense that things had come ‘full circle’. The nurses pulling at my heart strings as they wished our baby boy all the best on his journey, farewelling him with an emotional ‘bye Leo’ as he was wheeled out the door.
The team and I made small talk as we made our way down stairs to the ambulance – Charlie would be so jealous! It was only a short trip down the road, but I was able to witness the team work their magic – right there beside our Leo, monitoring his every move, breath, entire aura. It was a really beautiful sequence to share and showed the real care they take for our babies.
Upon entering the ground level of the RCH, it was the first time my eyes were opened to how big PIPER actually was – there were 20 or so ambulances under there, all PIPER specialised. The driver was a character too and after the mention of Leo’s big brothers love of emergency vehicles, you better believe they ran the siren ‘just for Charlie.’
The RCH was an absolute maze and so so much larger than the Women’s! Everything was colour-coded and partnered with cute little themes, Leo headed to the Butterfly Ward – level five, room 557.
Things were still moving so fast and we had barely settled in when we met with the team of Doctor’s – who wanted to get Leo ready for his EEG. Again, we had given up all hope. Therefore, we had assumed the EEG wouldn’t be going ahead as scheduled – but here we were – going ahead – today! But Leo was grumpy and extremely agitated. Dave had seen this behaviour a number of times before, but for me, this was an overwhelming struggle. I wanted to be there, for Leo, but also, I was there on my own as Dave had been feeling under the weather. Ironically, Dave had been there for Leo’s brain scan, MRI and lumber-puncture, now, I would be there for his EEG and it was a lot to deal with.
Leo had already been through so much today and now he was having several wires glued to his head! And the process was going agonisingly slow, the precise positioning, the cleaning of the location, the gluing, the air-drying and then the scanning and the beeping commenced. I was feeling pressure to stay, but once everything was in position, thankfully one of the nurse’s suggested I go take a break. We had a Winnie the Pooh print to pick up after all!
It had become a miserable day outside and I was hoping for some beach views as we headed across the city to a suburb called Point Cook. It was a good chance for Dave and I to have a chat and check in with each other, as now that he had fallen unwell, we had both begun to feel the pressure of it all. Our families feeling it too, Graham calling to check in with his son. ‘I thought I’d give you a call back because you seemed a little down yesterday,’ he said, bringing tears to my eyes. Before making us laugh by sharing stories about all the animals back home. Johnny behaving himself while he dropped out a bale of hay and Cranky-cat constantly tripping him up as he made his way through our flock of chickens daily. Over the years we had nicknamed Graham the ‘zoo keeper’ as he almost always tended to the animals while we were away. It was exactly the spirit boost we had needed, before returning – Dave to our accommodation for some rest and me back into the maze that was RCH!
Upon return, we were stoked to find Leo had smashed his EEG! With results clearing him of any current or damaged brain abnormalities. Unfortunately, that didn’t give us any answers and it meant more silence would follow. We took the win and they continued when Leo, again latched and successfully breast fed that night. Our rainbow baby, continually defying the odds.
In a bid to get more of a handle on the running of things, one of the nurses took me on a tour, showing me where the milk kitchen, parent’s room, toilet etc were located and what resources were available, including visiting hour restrictions. Unlike the Women’s, the RCH had strict visiting hours for all visitors between 2pm to 6pm, with a maximum of two people at the bedside (including parents). Siblings to visit on weekends between 10am to 12pm and 2pm and 6pm – crushing our plans to watch the New Year’s Eve fireworks from the hospital windows, together as a family.
As with everything up in the air, we had discussed with Mum and Dad about bringing Charlie across for the 9pm New Year’s Eve fireworks and returning back to Benalla that same night. They knew we were struggling and they wanted to do this for us, but we had agreed to touch base tomorrow.
>>>>
Wednesday morning started out the same as the past few weeks, getting to the hospital and hoping for news about a transfer home. For me, it had been both a blessing and a curse to have contact with the midwifery team back in Shepparton. As in the middle of my excitement I had sent through messages with progress updates, expressing our ‘beeline for home!’ Yet, unbeknown to us, Shepparton SCN had filled significantly since our departure two weeks ago. To put it bluntly, we would be waiting for a bed – again!
It was 11am before we saw the Doctors and as Leo was in a shared room, for confidentiality reasons, Dave and I were asked to leave, while they spoke with the other patient’s family. We understood, but to be asked to leave our baby didn’t sit right with me and I was left feeling shaken while anxiously awaiting our turn.
Before, finally the Doctors made their way over to where we were standing by the window, overlooking the open grassed area below. There was no news, but we were able to discuss our current options and our main goal being a transfer back to Shepparton, rather than a transfer back to the Women’s. Which thankfully, they were able to give reassurance and honour our wishes in that aspect at least.
Still, we felt deflated by the confirmed news of no bed availability closer to home and with a planned visit from Charlie that evening, we headed back to our accommodation for some rest.
But unexpectantly, just as I started to fall asleep, my phone rang – I ignored it – I was exhausted. Soon after, Dave answered a phone call from the same number. It was one of the nurses from RCH, who explained that in an unexpected twist of fate, a baby had been born in Shepparton and was awaiting a PIPER transfer to Melbourne. Giving Leo the green light for a transfer, home! And he was being prepped for boarding the PIPER express as they spoke down the other line.
Dave thanked the nurse and ended the call, before looking over at me, ‘so, when do you want to head home?’ he asked. But he already knew my answer, ‘right NOW!!!’
This was it, do not pass go, do not collect $200! We were heading home!
'Our Little Louis' 