#stillBORN Campaign - Patrick's Story

I was 39 weeks pregnant with my second son, Patrick, when I noticed, one Friday morning in April 2015, that his movements had changed. I was aware that he had not moved as usual that morning. I knew the usual things to try – drinking something cold, eating some food, lying on your left side, giving him a fright. I tried them all, but by that evening I was upset.

The next morning I rang the maternity unit and they advised us to come in. I felt utter relief that we were going to the hospital. I had done what I was ‘supposed’ to do and everything would be ‘fixed’ once we got to the hospital. What better place to be?

At the hospital, there were numerous errors. The midwife did not notice that Patrick had turned breech. A cardiotocography (CTG) reading of Patrick’s heart rate showed that he was distressed. He needed to be delivered immediately. A Doctor fasted me for a caesarean section. My abdomen and uterus was tense, but no-one picked up that this is a sign of a haemorrhage. Every CTG reading showed that Patrick was distressed; his heart rate showed no accelerations or decelerations, but no-one acted on this.

Later in the day the c-section was overruled by a Consultant. There was no reason for this. Instead of delivering Patrick, the Consultant tried to turn Patrick. He never should have done that; another error. After eight hours in hospital and nothing achieved, we were sent home. I asked about a c-section. The doctor told me that they could check their diary and book me in for later in the week.

The next day, a Sunday, at about 7pm, I received a phone call to say that a kleihauer blood test taken the day before showed that I was haemorrhaging and Patrick’s blood was entering my system. This test had been received by the ward at midday. I asked if I should come in. They told me to wait until the next morning. There was no urgency.

I was anxious all evening. While my husband and I talked, I felt Patrick kick for what would be the last time. I noted the time: 9.30pm. At 10.30pm I was called by the hospital and asked to come in. They had reviewed the earlier CTG readings and wanted me to come in for observation.

I was naive. I drove in myself. I was taken to the maternity ward. A midwife scanned me and could not find a heartbeat. She said she would find a better machine. She still could not find Patrick’s heartbeat. She said she would find a more experienced midwife to scan me. There were no doctors available. I simply had to wait. I willed Patrick to move; for a heartbeat to be found.

The Consultant from the day before finally came up to scan me. In a few words, ‘there is no heartbeat’, my world was destroyed. Every single thing in my life changed that very moment. I called my husband, ‘Patrick is dead’.

We returned to hospital the next morning, a Monday, so Patrick could be born. There were plenty of conversations about what had gone wrong. There were hushed confessions of mistakes, misread CTGs, misinterpreted blood tests results, inappropriate remarks. The abnormal CTG tracings should have been acted on, they said. The blood test results had showed a significant haemorrhage, they told us.

There were questions of what we would like to do once Patrick was born. Did we want to hold him? Would we like to bath him? Maybe we would like to dress him? I knew that I had to hold Patrick, that I would regret it if I did not. This would be my only chance to be with him before he would be taken away from me forever. My husband was not so sure. Could he hold Patrick? After all, they were talking about spending time with a dead baby. There was confusion. There was doubt. There were tears. There were conversations I never imagined I would have. Surely, this was not actually happening?

Patrick was born on Tuesday evening at 8.50pm on April 21, 2015. He was beautiful. He was our baby boy. We had photos taken, some footprints and handprints done, and we got a lock of hair. He just looked like he was sleeping. I had knitted him some boottees which he wore. We held him. We talked to him. He was a part of our family. But it was not enough. He left us after a few hours.

Patrick was laid to rest three days later. It was a miserable and rainy day for a funeral. Life has been cloudy ever since.

Suzanne Maguire