Charese Hemopo fears her "baby is not resting" after its miscarried remains were lost at Middlemore Hospital. Photo / Michael Craig
Charese Hemopo fears her "baby is not resting" after its miscarried remains were lost at Middlemore Hospital. Photo / Michael Craig
A mother has been left heartbroken and fearing for her miscarried baby's spirit after its remains were lost at Auckland's Middlemore Hospital in late August.
Charese Hemopo was in the South Auckland hospital's emergency department "an hour or two" after miscarrying - at 13 or 14 weeks gestation and while in hospital - when she was asked to put the remains, earlier given to her in a plastic box, on a bedside table while being examined.
The hand-sized box was mistakenly left behind when she was moved to a ward soon after, and hasn't been seen since.
"Now I feel like my baby's not resting," Hemopo said.
"Even though it's not a [full term] baby, it still has a spirit of its own, and that spirit is in a tip somewhere."
The August 29 incident has sparked a "detailed investigation" to ensure it was never repeated, Te Whatu Ora Counties Manukau women's health clinical director Dr Andy Simons said.
"We are incredibly saddened by this tragic event, and sincerely apologise and extend our deepest sympathies to Ms Hemopo and her whānau."
Charese Hemopo hopes other women haven't been through the same thing as her, after the miscarried remains of her baby were lost at Middlemore Hospital. Photo / Michael Craig
Middlemore had a "return of taonga" policy, which included tissue of the patient and/or their whānau, and incorporated tradition, cultural beliefs and practices and "most importantly, respecting the deceased with extra sensitivity placed on the care of embryos or foetuses", Simons said.
The investigation - led by a Māori Health clinical advisor - recognised the deep harm such incidents caused, and its findings would be used to make improvements, he said.
"Ultimately our aim is to never have a situation like this occur again, to never have another whānau experience the same anguish."
It was about an hour after being moved to the gynaecology ward when she realised she didn't have her baby's remains, Hemopo said.
After being examined by the emergency department doctor, several nurses had visited before an orderly had moved the 32-year-old to the ward.
"It came to me … 'Where's my baby?'", she said of the moment she realised the plastic box had been left behind.
"At that moment I'd been up all night, it'd been traumatic and I wasn't aware of everything around me, I was on medication … and for the baby to be my responsibility?
"I mean, my baby is my responsibility, but I wasn't in the right state of mind to be able to [take responsibility]."
The baby's remains were last seen on a bedside table in Middlemore Hospital's emergency department. File photo / Mike Scott
Ward nurses told her they'd contact the emergency department to find the remains, but a few hours later told Hemopo the department was so busy no one was answering the phone.
They promised to keep trying, but the devastated mum was "losing hope".
"It was awful. I was saying, 'This is an emergency, it's important'. It was like they didn't care … why couldn't they just go down there? I would've gone myself but I was bedridden."
Late afternoon, the same doctor who'd earlier examined Hemopo returned with bad news.
Doctors told her the cause of the miscarriage wasn't known, but she'd need surgery to remove remaining tissue.
Later, she was told surgery wasn't needed because the tissue would leave her body naturally, and she was discharged from hospital two days after the miscarriage.
But Hemopo believed hospital staff "wanted me out of there" and rushed her discharge.
"That's what it felt like. I didn't want to leave without my baby."
At home her health deteriorated and she was readmitted two days later and told scans had revealed more tissue than initially thought, and surgery was needed, Hemopo said.
It was supposed to only take 20 to 30 minutes, but lasted "hours" after infection was discovered, she said.
"Everything in my body was shutting down … my blood pressure and heart rate were down. I could've died."
Simons said Te Whatu Ora Counties Manukau didn't comment on the care of individual patients.
But routine discharge processes, including a full clinical assessment and investigations by the medical team to fully assess a patient's health status, would've taken place before Hemopo was discharged, he said.
"Ongoing advice and health management is also provided which involves informing patients of what to do if there is a change in their condition."
Hemopo also told the Weekend Herald she made a formal complaint to Middlemore Hospital on August 31, but hadn't received a response.
"The only thing I am pleased about was that the hospital contacted me and said I could get my [removed] tissue.
Simons said the hospital had supported Hemopo to complete her formal complaint, but due to the complexity of the case, and because multiple services were involved, an extension had been requested "to enable us to provide an appropriate response".
Until she spoke to the Weekend Herald, she hadn't thought about what she wanted the hospital to do, Hemopo said.
"I've just pushed it aside so I could deal with it. I'd like an actual apology, I think … and I want some answers, some changes, so it doesn't happen again.
"[And] I want my baby. But I know that's not going to happen."
Hemopo, whose partner didn't want to be interviewed but supported her speaking publicly about their loss, has three older children, aged 1, 8 and 10.
"The 1-year-old keeps me busy, but it was hard to look at her [after the miscarriage]."
After she returned home her family had tried to comfort her, including holding "kind of a tangi", said Hemopo, who is Tainui.
"But it's not a tangi. For me, when you lose a baby so young, the baby must be buried the day after it's born, because we believe babies have a strong wairua [spirit], [and] they tend to try and take another family member with them.
"Now I feel my baby's not resting. It's a baby - it doesn't know what to do, where to go."
All she could do was get her family priest to "ask my tupuna to come and take my baby's spirit".
"If [the remains hadn't been lost], I would've taken my baby to my people, at Taupiri. My whānau would've looked after my baby, and my baby would've been at peace."
