It’s Wednesday July 17, Mummy is 36 weeks and 1 day pregnant and it’s her first day of maternity leave. She’s exhausted and drops your big brother, Charlie off at day-care and comes home to finally get some rest.

Mummy was struggling with the grief of losing one of the children from the centre the week before due to a tragic car accident, his mother also killed in the crash.

Although she had finished up with work, she was to head back that night for a group grievance counselling session. This was when Mummy started to question when the last time was that she had felt you move?

Sitting there, crying for a little boy that never made it home, Mummy rubbed her belly and tried to encourage you to move, but you didn’t.

It was a sleepless night where Mummy became more concerned and tossed and turned, was she being paranoid? Or was something really, really wrong?

Daddy’s alarm went off at 6am, Thursday July 18, Mummy lie there awake beside him.

The day began like any other, Daddy went off to work and Mummy got Charlie ready for another day at day-care. On their way they dropped a parcel off next door that had been accidently dropped off at home. Suzie was home and Mummy shared her concerns and that she was planning to call Birth Suite when she got home, but maybe after she had something to eat and had time to relax again. Suzie encouraged her to call as soon as she got home, if for nothing else, her own peace of mind.

After dropping Charlie off, Mummy dropped flowers and painting off at the crash site for the little boy and his mother, feeling more at ease about the loss.

Once home, she rang the Birth Suite, who requested she come in.

Mummy than rang Daddy and told him she would pick him up on her way. This was the first time Daddy had heard of her concerns.

During the drive, Mummy rang Nannie just to inform her of the prompt visit to hospital and they joked that maybe you were on your way and stressed that your nursery was not yet ready.

Before long, Mummy picked up Daddy and they made their way to Birth Suite where they were greeted by a midwife named Beverly, who we later learned was the Head of Midwifery.

Beverly got Mummy set up on the bed and used the sonogram on her belly, but we didn’t hear you, there was no sound. Everything was so quiet when Beverly said she’d be back with the Doctor to do an ultrasound, while Mummy and Daddy continued to sit in silence.

Beverly returned with a lady Doctor named, Hannah, who performed the ultrasound before speaking quietly to Beverly about confirming with another doctor.

Mummy looked up at the clock on the wall to her left, it was 11.52am and she heard the Doctor say, “I can’t find a heartbeat, but I need to confirm with another doctor.” Mummy began to panic, cry and yell for your Daddy, who was helped up onto the bed so she wasn’t alone. Keeping her eyes closed, another Doctor entered the room and confirmed your parents’ worst fears, there was no heartbeat and we knew you were gone.

Beverly explained we would have to have a third ultrasound but she would give us a moment to process.

Through the tears, Mummy and Daddy lay on the bed, in a tiny room under a harsh sunlit lamp, witnessing their whole lives being turned upside down.

“Can we name him Louis? I want to name him Louis,” Mummy said.

“Yep,” Daddy choked out, understanding her reasonings.

“And I need Mum, I can’t do this without her,” Mummy said.

What followed was the first of many decisions that Mummy and Daddy had to make, how were we going to tell your Nannie? We tossed back and forth a few options before deciding to call your Papa. Whose heart would also break with the news, would need to support his wife through the loss of their fifth grandchild.

The decisions continued and before long, Beverly returned to lead us downstairs to where they would complete the final ultrasound – again confirming you were gone.

Beverly did her best to comfort Mummy, but she was numb and confused, questioning how things had changed since Tuesday morning when she had been in that same ultrasound room, listening to your heartbeat and watching you move around.

Once back in Birth Suite, began the long wait for things to move forward and more decisions to be made, how were we going to deliver you into this world? This world that was not worthy of you.

The doctors returned and discussed a number of options moving forward for the birth, including both an inducement, followed by a natural birth and a c-section. Mummy found it hard to come to terms with the change of plans due to the circumstances, as before all of this she had wanted to try for a natural birth. But she was now torn and questioned if she could go through all the pain of a natural labour with such a heartbreaking outcome. She questioned if opting for a c-section would be easier, but then she thought of your big brother Charlie and how she longed to get back to him.

The doctors explained that the option of inducement would start with a tablet to soften her uterus and we could go home, before returning Saturday morning to bring on contractions.

Mummy and Daddy decided this option suited them best, meaning they could return home, process their grief and get some things organised for the trauma ahead of them.

Before long Nannie and Papa arrived, quiet, sad and teary. Nannie took her youngest daughter, your Mummy into her arms, and struggled with the words, “I’m sorry.”

It was decided that Nannie and Papa would follow us home before returning home later that night to retrieve the caravan, endeavouring to stay as long as needed.

The next 72 hours are somewhat a blur, and with Mummy still carrying you, things were tough. We kept Charlie home from day-care, got some things organised in town and attempted to prepare for the delivery of their second born.

We kept things quiet; other than Nan and Pa Byron, Uncle Biro and Aunty Keat, Aunty Ebby and Uncle Scotty. Your Aunty Sheesha and Uncle Jacko were currently holidaying in Cains and not due back until that afternoon. Leaving Papa to return to Benalla to break the news once again, this time to your Great Grandma and Grandad also. This was particularly hard to do as they had already lost a Great Granddaughter 11 years earlier; Papa would also break the news to Mummy’s Aunty and Uncle in person to shelter this particular grief.

Friday also bought the world’s biggest technical outage, phones, banks, EFTPOS machines, you name it, were out! Your Aunty Sheesha and Uncle Jacko were lucky to get home as it also shut down flight planes that afternoon – but that’s another story.

Somehow; we must have gotten some sleep, because before we knew it, it was Saturday morning and Mummy and Daddy travelled in silence back to the hospital.

We were greeted by a midwife named Maya, who took care of us for the next several hours. I wish I had more insight for you but the remainder of Saturday didn’t progress easily. The inducement commenced and the first tablet was taken.

Doctors came and went, Maya checked in and came to Mummy’s defence when the pharmacy messed up and asked for more bloods. Although Mummy felt like a pin-cushion, she knew Maya was not to blame. Three hours passed and your Daddy had enjoyed a very nice meal of silverside, sandwiches AND jelly! While Mummy fasted awaiting your arrival.

Another tablet was taken and Mummy was reassured not to give up hope of a natural birth.

Mummy tried to make light of the situation, watching TikTok videos of ‘Monti the singing Donkey’ and joked about being ‘Hangry’.

But more time continued to pass with no progression and the realisation that after all this, a c-section may be our fate.

It was 8.40pm, Midwife shifts had changed and Amanda was introduced, the Doctor was back and Mummy was pissed! She was hungry, she was sad and she felt like her body had let her down. There was one more tablet to take, but the Doctor wanted to discuss options if the fourth tablet was to fail too.

Option one was to go home, wait a further 48hrs before returning and going through the same process again.

Option two was to have the balloon inserted, which had failed during the birth of your big brother. And finally, option three, a c-section.

After an emotional and painful check of Mummy’s non-dilated cervix, Mummy let out all her frustration and demanded food. She told the doctor they would not be going home and letting this drag out any further, and that if this final tablet failed to bring on labour, we would be opting for the very unpopular option three, a c-section.

Maya found Mummy some sandwiches and Daddy was sent on a McDonalds run – Mummy really was ‘Hangry’. Once Mummy had eaten, there was another Midwife change and we were introduced to Kate and finally! contractions started.

Labour wasn’t easy on Mummy, her contractions were strong, and you, our little Louis, were left defenceless within her womb. Mummy hated this part and tried to cover her belly, shielding Daddy from the way her contractions moved you around.

Daddy attempted to get comfortable in the reclining chair before the midwives pulled together and organised a second bed for him, allowing him to hold Mummy’s hand, supporting her through the contractions.

At first Mummy refused any pain relief for fear of sending the contractions away, but after a few hours of consecutive pain, Mummy needed something stronger.

But her fears were confirmed when her contractions slowed to a stop and Mummy cried herself to sleep, knowing what the morning would bring.

It was Sunday July 21, and the morning sunrise exposed the disappointment and sadness on our faces. And we knew our end game was what we had fought so hard to avoid, a c-section. Amanda was back and had been debriefed about our ordeal overnight, she was dressed in her scrubs ready to assist with your delivery.

The doctors arrived and informed us that we had been made a priority and arrangements were being made to finally get things moving along.

Mummy and Daddy were introduced to an antsiest named Jess and a number of people who made up the emergency surgical team to deliver their little boy.

Once on the table and the epidural had taken affect, history repeated itself and just like with the delivery of your big brother, Mummy vomited and Daddy needed to excuse himself. Jess became Mummy’s support when she reached down and grabbed hold of her hand, and continued to hold on for the remainder of the surgery.

Reality hit when you were removed from Mummy’s tummy, but there were no cries. There was no clapping or cheers of celebration, just silence.

Mummy closed her eyes and began to cry before she heard Amanda say “hello beautiful little Louis.”

She handed you over to Mummy, so you were facing her, but your eyes were closed.

Our little Louis, you were born sleeping.

Daddy sat beside the two of us until it was time to move Mummy across to recovery, before enviably returning to birth suite.

With you safe in the room next to us, Mummy sort pain relief for the discomfort she was feeling post-surgery and Amanda reassured Mummy to get some rest before anything else. Exhausted, she followed suit and closed her eyes.

Lunch came and went and Daddy sat quietly in the chair beside Mummy, before she finally opened her eyes, and reached across for his hand.

Feeling better, Mummy knew it was time to both say goodbye and start informing the outside world of their loss.

The message was sent out to friends and family, containing brief details of your sleeping arrival, your name and weight.

“It is with heavy hearts we announce the sleeping arrival of our beautiful baby boy, Louis Byron. Born July 21, 9.43am, weighing 2.66 kgs (5Ibs, 8oz). During this challenging time, we would appreciate space to grieve privately as a family. A service will be held for immediate family only at a later date. Respectfully, Maddy, Dave and Charlie.”

Amanda returned and introduced Midwife Danielle, while Mummy struggled to say goodbye. Little did they know that Danielle would go above and beyond her duty of care and remain with Mummy for the rest of their stay in hospital. It was Danielle who helped Mummy and Daddy organise for your Nannie, Papa, Aunty Ebby and Aunty Sheesha to meet you. And it was Danielle who helped your Mummy and Daddy say goodbye. She bought you into our room, and just like Amanda had done, Danielle addressed you with respect.

“Here’s your beautiful boy,” Danielle said as she placed you back into your Mummy’s arms.

Mummy spoke to you and told you to watch over your big brother, always. To succeed in whatever it was that you were destined for and to find a little boy named ‘Harry’ and his mother because they would look after you.

Mummy was so proud to watch on as your Daddy held you in his arms and took you over to the window, showing you the world. A world unworthy of you, our little Louis.

For those interested, I share Louis’ story via a weekly blog called ‘Our Little Louis’. I didn’t start sharing until earlier this year, however I did start writing early post loss as a form of self-healing. Tonight, has just been a snapshot of our journey, so those looking for more, you can find the entirety of what unfolded at ourlittlelouis.blog

Thank you to Maddy, Louis’ mother, for sharing her story.