Following my resignation, the next morning Dave and I were on our way to the pregnancy clinic for Louis’ autopsy results. We didn’t know what to expect, but to be honest my hopes weren’t very high – but it was so much worse than either of us had anticipated.
We sat in silence in the same waiting room along-side those expecting the birth of their children, which in my opinion this was the clinics first mistake. How did they expect those who have lost a child to sit amongst families, excitedly awaiting prenatal care. Second mistake was when the unit manager introduced herself and informed us that the Doctor she had tried so hard to book us in with had unfortunately again cancelled. She tried to restore our faith by stating that she had organised another Doctor to step in but he needed a few minutes to look over our file. Dave and I were again left to sit in the main waiting room and as we sat listening to the administration staff laugh and chat away, I began to cry. They were openly discussing the latest episode of Home and Away and their daily skin and hair routine – Third mistake.
Finally, we were called into the patient room. The Doctor did not refer to Louis by name, but rather ‘baby that had passed’. He stated that results were inconclusive and that when we decided to try again, they would create a plan to ensure the best possible outcome. He had no concerns that another stillbirth would occur, but due to our history they would need to keep a closer eye on any future pregnancies. I asked if it was stated in the report the exact time that Louis had passed, to which he replied that was a very hard thing to determine.
The Doctor was very concerned about my mental state in that I couldn’t stop crying and he kept reverting back to this, asking if I needed additional care.
We briefly discussed the recommended time frame before trying again after a caesarean and my bloods had all returned a normal result, before again, the Doctor asked me if I was receiving enough support at home.
‘I’m ok,’ I stated, and I looked at Dave, ‘I just want to go home, just get me out of here.’
The Doctor had at least shown some empathy for our situation and I had respect that he had been thrown in the deep end that morning with our casefile, but as far as I was concerned, we would NEVER set foot in that pregnancy clinic ever again.
Following this experience, we later learned that there were actually answers in the autopsy results, but because it couldn’t be a confirmed factor to our loss, we were instead given the very summarised version that ‘results were inconclusive.’ Fourth mistake! And this one was a big one!
>>>>
Somehow, we managed to get everything organised for Louis’ final placement on the Saturday before we headed off to Adelaide – Butterfly’s included.
For anyone who is interested, I strongly recommend Butterfly Adventures who are located in Melbourne. I had contacted them earlier in the year and enquired how things would work and how soon things could be turned around, they replied by reassuring me that anything from end of October there would be butterfly’s available for delivery by post Wednesday or Thursday with delivery on Friday via either Express Post or courier.
They did not disappoint when the time came and were able to get things organised quickly and they reassured us that the butterfly’s would rest overnight for release Saturday morning.
Beautifully they were able to rest overnight in the nursery.
Saturday morning came and feelings of uneasiness returned, I just wanted everything to be perfect. Again, I had to remember to breathe.
We had organised single white roses with baby blue ribbons as we had used at the funeral and had three marble love heart stones to place upon the plaque. Charlie enjoyed shovelling sand above his brother’s ashes and standing the roses up in the bucket, before being carried across the water to place one stone at a time, safely upon Louis’ plaque.
The release itself was really beautiful and Charlie giggled in amazement as each butterfly flew away. We had chosen to do the butterfly release because we wanted to start celebrating that we were Louis’ family and we wanted to begin celebrating his presence in our lives – forever in our hearts.
Charlie began to recognise that ‘this is where your little brother is, this is Louis’ place.’ He loved when the water was running, tooting as we drove past (a tradition carried on from family while passing the Numurkah cemetery – saying ‘Hi’ to Grandpa, who was buried there in 2019). He would point to the butterfly’s which are now placed upon Louis’ ashes and would visit the ‘house’ (rotunda).
Nannie even taught Charlie to blow a kiss to say good-bye before hopping back into the car. This would become a regular tradition for our family – this would become our new normal.
'Our Little Louis' 