The precious gift of a daughter in a family of six sons, baby Ngāwaiata could not have been more wished for. As her parents prepared for her arrival in September, they both knew two things.
One, that she would probably be early and a premature baby as all the other children had been. And two, that she would never be alone. Which is how they saved her life.
Just weeks after her birth, Ngāwaiata stopped breathing while Francis was gazing at her adoringly.
“I had just placed her down in her cot because we were at home enjoying our bundle of joy,” recalls Kaiora. “Francis said, ‘I don’t want to leave her down there – put her on the bed with me.’ His favourite thing to do is lie on the bed with her and just gaze at her.”
“I said that this doesn’t look right,” says Francis. “I just knew something wasn’t right.”
The couple both assessed her and then it happened. She stopped breathing.
“It was a long hold of breath, like about 10 seconds, and then she coughed and gasped, and took a deep breath,” says Kaiora.
“I was completely panicking. We both decided we needed to get in the car and go to hospital really quickly. We are so blessed that we live seven minutes away from Starship Hospital,” says Francis.
During the mercy dash, Kaiora held Ngāwaiata and willed her to keep breathing.
“Francis said he’d drop me at the emergency department and then go find a park, but I wanted him to come in with me and explain everything,” says Kaiora. “He told me I could do it, so I rushed in, went up to the reception and just said, ‘My baby is prem and she’s not breathing well.’”
The nurse took Ngāwaiata, unwrapped her and said to Kaiora, “Okay, come with me, but keep up.”
“She took off, running through all these doors and I’m following. Then she went into the resuscitation room, laid her on the table and pressed a buzzer. Then she turned to me and said, ‘There’s going to be all these people running around the corner in a minute and I want you to know that it’s just for baby. It’s okay.’ She was so calm and amazing.”
Kaiora found herself sitting at the side of the room and was soon joined by Francis, who was shocked by the number of people surrounding his baby girl.
“Kaiora told me to just be calm and sit with her, and that’s what we did. We couldn’t look at her, we were so frightened.”
Kaiora said she could see Ngāwaiata was having the same symptoms as she was having at home, but worse.
“We just held each other’s hands and looked at each other, because you always think the worst – ‘Oh, my God, this can’t happen to us!’” says Francis.
“I’m just so grateful that Francis was awake and watching her that night,” says Kaiora.
It was about 11pm when it happened and usually Francis would be fast asleep, but this night, he was happy to stare at his daughter while his wife took a shower.
The doctors said Ngāwaiata was fighting not one but two viruses, and that was causing the sleep apnoea, which would have her stopping breathing then starting again. Because she was a premature baby, she didn’t have the immunity to fight the viruses.
Baby and Kaiora spent two nights in hospital, where Ngāwaiata was closely monitored and Kaiora admits she got very lonely.
“I was very mokemoke, which means missing or lonely, and so I would be calling Francis at all hours of the night, just to connect with him,” she says.
“She was ringing me at 11pm, then 1am and 2am, then 4am,” says Francis. “I’d wake up and chat and be all lively because I knew I needed to be there for her. I was worried about post-natal depression setting in.”
Kaiora previously had post-natal depression after the birth of Francis Jnr nearly five years ago, but so far says she’s doing fine and enjoying every moment with her baby.
Now they’re both home from hospital, Ngāwaiata wears a little sock on one foot, which alerts her parents if she needs attention.
“It connects to our phones and if something’s not right, it sets off an alarm and everyone runs to her,” explains Francis.
Ngāwaiata’s birth, as predicted, was early. She was due on September 24 and arrived on August 22.
“I knew something was up because I was suddenly really tired,” says Kaiora. “Normally, I run up the stairs at work, but I needed Francis to help me get up, so that was a surprise.
“I got home and my two older boys, Nikora and Moronai, got me to lie down and took a foot each to give me a massage, which was heaven. But just as they finished, I started having contractions, so I was saying, ‘Come back – keep rubbing my feet!’ I didn’t want to accept that she was coming early.”
Francis had gone to bed early and got a text from Kaiora, who was just around the corner in the living room.
“It said, ‘Are you awake?’ And I knew immediately the baby was coming. She didn’t have to say a word,” says Francis.
“You know what though, he didn’t come straight away, he took his time to get out of bed and come and help me! I ended up having to text him again to tell him to hurry up,” says Kaiora.
Kaiora knew she would be having a Caesarean as she had with her other babies, so she went into hospital to see what the doctors thought.
“They needed to check me and Ngāwaiata for a few hours, but in the end, she was delivered the next morning.”
Francis says he resisted the urge to tell their whānau anything was happening until Ngāwaiata was born because he knew they would be inundated with visitors.
“Sure enough, as soon as everyone knew, they turned up at the house and at the ward,” he says. “I had to apologise to the nurses for all the people, but they let 10 people in at a time, which was nice of them.”
Kaiora says naming their new daughter was not an easy process.
“She’s our first girl, and every nana and aunty were putting their names forward, recommending their name. Well, not all, but definitely most of them!”
Francis told Kaiora that she should choose her daughter’s name and as the months went on, he would ask, “Have you got a name?”
“I didn’t want to disclose the name I had in mind straight away because I was worried Francis would tell the whole world! I let him know about two weeks before Ngāwaiata was born.”
Her full name is Ngāwaiata Irirangi Taimānia Tipene and she gets the first two names from Kaiora’s sister, who has the same names. Ngāwaiata means songs and can also mean music. Irirangi means airwaves.
“So Ngāwaiata Irirangi means songs that permeate in the air,” says Kaiora. “The name goes with our musical whānau. My daughter loves music. She would kick a lot in the womb every time her dad and brothers sang.”
Her third name, Taimānia, means the calm sea, although at home, the gorgeous baby girl is simply called Pani and her brothers call her Pani Girl.
Brothers Haimona, 22, Nikora, 18, Moronai, 16, Mikae, 10, Mihaka, 9, and Francis Jnr, 4, struggle to get time with their baby sister.
“She’s not awake for long at this stage, so when she wakes up, they all want her attention,” says Kaiora. “So Francis will quickly go get the guitar and start singing.”
“What happened was I call Kaiora my honey, and then I looked at our baby and said, ‘Hello, my honey bunny,’ which Kaiora thought was a bit stupid, so I changed it to Māori, which is honey pani,” says Francis.
As the sixth series of The Casketeers airs on TVNZ 1, Kaiora and Francis are looking forward to a long hot summer with their family before beginning filming for their next TV adventure, where they take their funeral show on the road, looking at the way other cultures handle the burial of their loved ones.
“We’re going to start filming in Australia and Tonga next year, so we can take Ngāwaiata with us, but be close to home for the boys if they need us,” says Francis.
They are both looking forward to exploring all the other cultures of the world and learning from their funeral methods.
But for now, it’s time for whānau and looking after themselves. Kaiora says Ngāwaiata comes to work with her and when they get home in the afternoon, baby will have a feed and a sleep, while she has a long nap.
“Then if she wakes up between 10pm and midnight, Francis will take care of her so I can stay asleep. Then I’m ready to do the early morning feeds,” she says.
And Ngāwaiata is thriving. At birth, she was 2.4kg and now weighs 3.5kg.
“She loves her food – she’s a little Tipene alright!”