Adi Koloamatangi and her husband Ofa (not pictured) have gone from heartbreak to full hearts after the arrival of son Isaiah four months ago. His birth comes after his parents lost four babies to miscarriage. Photo / Alex Burton
Adi Koloamatangi and her husband Ofa (not pictured) have gone from heartbreak to full hearts after the arrival of son Isaiah four months ago. His birth comes after his parents lost four babies to miscarriage. Photo / Alex Burton
The best gift isn’t under the tree at Adi and Ofa Koloamatangi’s house this Christmas.
He’s in their arms.
“He is me and my husband’s gift,” Adi Koloamatangi says, as she cradles 4-month-old Isaiah, the healthy baby born to the couple after losing their first four children within hours of birth.
“So, we’re not too worried about presents and stuff … we’re more focused on Isaiah, and just family time.
“Because this is more than anyone would ever want, if they’ve been in my situation. We’re just truly happy that he is here with us.”
This time four years ago the Māngere couple were mourning the loss of their firstborn, Ofa jnr, who succumbed in his father’s arms three hours after his arrival the week before Christmas.
It was a loss that would be repeated three times more over the next 18 months, with Temisia jnr, Leila and Samisoni all, like their eldest brother, coming into the world at 17 weeks’ gestation - too early to survive.
The couple spoke to the Herald in May 2020 about their “beautiful angel babies”, because they wanted others affected by baby loss to know they weren’t alone, especially in the Pasifika community, and that it was okay to talk about it.
Adi and Ofa Koloamatangi, pictured in May 2020 with memories created for them by Baby Loss NZ after they lost their first four babies to miscarriage. Photo / Alex Burton
About a quarter of pregnancies end in miscarriage (loss occurring before 20 weeks’ gestation), according to the New Zealand College of Midwives, and one in every 200 with stillbirths (unborn babies who die after 20 weeks gestation).
A smaller number of babies die within 28 days of birth, considered a neonatal death.
While there is more public acknowledgment of baby loss now than in decades past, many still suffer in silence - it was only when her firstborn died that Koloamatangi first heard the word miscarriage.
“[And] I thought I was the only one who had had a miscarriage.”
After the most recent loss, of twins Leila and Samisoni in May 2020, the couple lost hope they would one day take home a living child.
“I just gave up. I just thought … let’s just give it a good year and focus on ourselves. I was losing weight and my plan for this year was to tone and continue losing weight, only to find out I was pregnant.
“[So] this pregnancy was unplanned. I guess God’s timing is always right.”
After going public with their previous losses, Koloamatangi was contacted by other women who suggested doctors who might be able to help her carry a pregnancy to full term.
“I went to them … I was scared, but I was hoping. I would do anything to just hold my live baby and take him home.”
Diagnosed with a weak cervix, Koloamatangi was referred to a specialist and at around 12 weeks had a cervical cerclage.
“It’s just a fancy word for stitching the cervix.”
She could’ve continued on light duties at her job - she’s an early childhood teacher - but decided to take maternity leave early, Koloamatangi said.
“I just wanted to enjoy the pregnancy, instead of thinking about the past all the time.”
It's baby Isaiah's first Christmas, and his parents are going to make sure it's "all about him", mum Adi Koloamatangi says. Photo / Alex Burton
Isaiah arrived naturally at 37 weeks, two weeks after the cerclage was removed and weighing a bonny 4.5 kilograms.
“We’re grateful - we now know there’s a cure to the things that happened previously,” she said of the life-saving medical intervention.
“I know there’s so many people out there who go through the same thing I went through. I reckon they shouldn’t give up, have faith, and research - go to doctors and tell them what you’re going through.
The moment she heard her son’s first cry was overwhelming, Koloamatangi said.
“I didn’t know whether to keep crying, or be happy because he was alive, and just seeing his little face - he looked exactly like his dad.
“I said, ‘Hi baby, Mummy loves you’. He had his eyes open. He looked at me, I looked at him. And I kept looking at my husband, like ‘Wow, we had a baby’.”
The four months since had been a whirlwind of cuddles, care and, more recently, smiles.
“We get lots of smiles, lots of laughs … and when we go out, he wants to eat but he’s fighting it because there’s people around and he’s nosy. He’s wanting to look at everything.”
