Benjamin's Birth Story - by Andrew

This is the story of Benjamin's birth as told to him by his daddy.

April 25, 2018

Welcome to earth, Benjamin Bodhi Achilles Canter.  You were born at home, in our bath tub, at 12:49pm on Tuesday, April 24, 2018.  You were 4.25 kilograms (9 lb 6oz), 54cm long, and your head circumference was 34 cm.  Jane went into labour very early in the morning (about 4am?), and gradually built up to having you.  I woke up about 8am, and was immediately conscious that Jane’s  mood had shifted… she’d visibly started going “into herself”, and was peaceful and focused.  She was finding my presence distracting, so I left the room to allow her to find her peace and vibe.  Things got more intense later in the morning, and she had me alert Ruth at about 10:20, and also Samantha (your photographer).  So you can see the timeline, here are the whatsapp messages…

Andrew & Ruth:

[10:21, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi Ruth. It’s Andrew. Are you there?

[10:21, 4/24/2018] Ruth: Hi Andrew. Yes

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Andrew: It’s baby time. Come when u can.

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: She says “more intense” and she’s running the tub....

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Ruth: Cool. Will get my things together and head through. About half an hour away

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Good. Thanks.

[10:56, 4/24/2018] Andrew: All quiet. No stress.

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Ruth: I'm outside

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Coming

[12:15, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Please come in [to the room]

Andrew & Samantha:

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi Sam. It’s Andrew. Are u there.

[10:22, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Yes 

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: It’s baby time.

[10:23, 4/24/2018] Andrew: I can’t estimate but contractions are more intense and she’s started running the bath.

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Wow that’s great!

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Come when u can.

[10:24, 4/24/2018] Andrew: This isn’t going to be a long drawn out labor.

[10:25, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Let me make a few phone calls quick and I’ll be in touch ASAP 🏼

[10:42, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Babysitter on their way. 🏼 About 30 minutes away from me. Once she’s here. I can come straight away. I will let you know I’m leaving From Tokai. 

[11:16, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Ok, leaving Tokai now. 

[11:19, 4/24/2018] Andrew: All calm. Thanks

[11:47, 4/24/2018] Andrew: Hi. When u arrive just message me and I’ll come down. Doorbell is too buzzy

[12:03, 4/24/2018] Samantha: Hi. I’m here x

When Ruth arrived she had all her medical kit – in case of some needed intervention – but she was firm that it not be in the bedroom, and rather she laid out all her equipment in the hall (presumably since merely seeing all that stuff can create fear – e.g. “what’s all THAT for!?”). 

Ruth settled herself in the guest bedroom, expecting that if she was needed that she would hear: I told her that there were two concrete walls between us, and she wouldn’t hear anything!  It was pretty clear to me that Jane wanted Ruth in attendance for the birth, so as Jane’s contractions got more intense – about ½ hour before your birth – I messaged Ruth to come into the bedroom.

For Jane’s last 30 minutes of labor we all – me, Ruth, Samantha -- just peacefully attended to Jane as she had increasingly intense contractions – and increasingly vocal, allowing herself to express herself (not verbally, but with moaning)…  she ran some more hot water… and she moved around the tub to find comfortable positions.  Ruth was quiet, attentive and meditative … which helped us all stay calm… while I sat by the side of the tub – also trying to be meditative – and Samantha was “catlike” in taking photos.  Perhaps as Jane approached the final contractions we all became much more alert/attentive and that might have disrupted the flow – but Jane was deep enough into her process that she was oblivious to us.  In the course of a contraction I realised Jane had your head in her hand.. you were being born!... and within moments you slipped out of her into the water.   She did it herself, easing you out… and lifting you up out of the water.  You were born “en caul” meaning your amniotic sac never broke (i.e. Jane’s waters didn’t break):  When your head was out of the water, Jane pulled the sac away from your head, and lifted you out.  

While you came out very grey and squashed, within moments you came to life and shortly after started squawking: I had no moment of fear or uncertainty, as you were almost immediately alert and visibly alive.   Jane has told me before that giving birth is intensely painful, but that no damage is being done… as nearly immediately after giving birth the pain ceases: That was evident yesterday as well.  You sat on Jane for about 30 minutes, still attached by the umbilical cord.  Ruth observed everything, and later reported your APGAR scores as 8 and 9 – out of 10 – indicating you were alert, responsive, strong, and healthy.  You even opened your eyes and chirped.  Clearly, you were ready to be born!  After a while, and when Jane was ready, Ruth clamped and tied the cord, and I cut it with her scissors.  Then, while Jane birthed (the large, heart-shaped, placenta) you and I lay in bed—you on my chest – and got connected.  We all lolled around in bed for a couple of hours… with Ruth checking in occasionally, Samantha coming and going for some photos… but mostly they all left us alone with you to get acquainted.  

Caitlyn, another midwife who works with Ruth, arrived shortly after you were born – but never came upstairs -- and was doing a thorough inspection of the placenta (to ensure its completeness, and do blood tests on the cord blood) in the kitchen: I came down to make tea, and took the opportunity to photograph it: Quite an organ!!  Now it’s in an ice cream tub, in the freezer, neatly labelled (“Benjamin’s Placenta” so as to avoid confusion with the other chocolate ice cream).   

The whole team had left by about 15:30, leaving us alone with you to get acquainted. 

In short, you were born perfectly… and you are perfect.

Love,

Dad

The birth of Benjamin Bodhi Achilles

TMI Notice. This is a birth story, with images of birth. Read at your own discretion and only if you are comfortable with descriptions and images of birth.

All photos, after the first 2 & 4th (which were taken by Andrew), by Sam of Twinkle Star Photography

This pregnancy was much harder on me than the previous ones. In all aspects. Physically, mentally, emotionally... I felt sick and tired for most of it. There was more fear and uncertainty. I wasn't sure I could trust myself to know what to do. Natey's death shook the very core of my confidence and feeling of competence. I also had a failure of faith. I usually feel complete trust and faith that all will be well and that I, and my body knows what it is doing. This time nothing was certain. Added to that were the extra fears, risks and unknowns related to being so much older (43 turning 44 next week!). 

There were just no guarantees. And so I was more cautious, more quiet, more internalised, and less active physically and socially. We didn't share the news of my pregnancy openly outside of our immediate circle until the 3rd trimester. I stayed focused on work and my studies for the most part and didn't have energy for much else. Most days I'd return from work too tired and feeling too ill to do much more than eat and go to bed. 

So it wasn't the most enjoyable pregnancy at all. But thankfully as it progressed all indications were that all the important things (like the baby's health and development) were well and there were no issues.

As I allowed myself to think about and visualise the birth I realised I wanted a similar experience to Natey's birth. I didn't want fear and lack of self confidence to undermine what I knew could and should be another wonderful and natural experience. The thought of a standard hospital and medically managed birth just holds no appeal to me at all. I have come to know, and believe, that it can (and should) be so much better and so much more than that. I knew I wanted to set-up for a similar birth. But at the same time I wanted to be a bit more cautious. And that meant making sure I wasn't alone this time.

Natey was born unexpectedly as an unassisted birth. Meaning I birthed him myself - because the midwife did not arrive on time. It was an incredible experience which is forever etched into my heart and memories. But he came out unresponsive at first and there was a tense moment before he 'woke up' while I was stimulating him and on the verge of wondering if he needed resuscitation. He soon did respond and all was well. But I was not so lucky when I ended up alone with him at the end of his life, and the job and responsibility of resuscitation fell on me, and I failed. I was sure I didn't want to be in the situation of being solely responsible should any resuscitation be needed... So I found a midwife (the wonderful Ruth Ehrhardt of True Midwifery) to support us, and also a back-up gynae and hospital in case that would be needed.

Anyway, the pregnancy progressed as they do. I worked up to 38.5 weeks and then went off on maternity leave on 6 April.

I spent the first week 'off' taking care of a dozen admin tasks, and basically getting life in order. The second week was spent at the gym each morning walking on the treadmill, and resting in the afternoons. It was a nice change of pace to be both more physically active again and also more relaxed, and less busy and in my head.

I had my 40-week check up and all was looking good. But there was no sign of labour any time soon. So both my midwife, Ruth, and I thought she'd see me at my 41-week appointment and beyond... 

I'd tried feeling my cervix a couple of times in the previous 10-days or so and couldn't even find it. So I thought it was probably still high and closed. I wasn't expecting any action till closer to the week-end at least. But I woke up at 3:40 on Tues early morning (40w6d), to pee as usual, and had some bloody mucous. I went back to bed with a towel. Noticing mild contractions coming every 10 mins, but I was comfortable and able to doze so I dozed between them until 06:30.

I then got up and got the boys an Uber to school instead of taking them, telling them I thought it was possibly labour day. Being up and active the contractions were coming every 3-4 mins, but still pretty mild. I could still move around through them. I had a few cups of red raspberry leaf and nettle tea. And I let Ruth know that things seemed to be slowly starting, while wandering around downstairs and checking emails etc.

After 8am I went up to the bedroom to take Andrew coffee. I did some organising and bounced on yoga ball a bit. Contractions spaced out a bit again and felt less intense with Andrew walking and talking around me. I definitely like to be by myself in labour. He realised this and went downstairs for a while. And after a while contractions came on more regularly again. I put on some Cafe Del Mar music and just hung out in the bedroom area drinking tea. 

At about 10am we called Ruth to come. As I could feel things getting more intense, I was feeling nauseous at times, and she was a good hour's travel away.

At close to 11am I decided to get in the bath. At that point I had no idea if it was going to be 30 mins, 3 hours or 3 days still. It's so hard to know! But I'd been anticipating being able to sit in a bath of water - this is no longer something we can do in Cape Town's dire drought, and I'd literally spent months washing in about 2l of water to 'save my rations' for being able to birth in water. I added some essential oils to the water (Lavender, Clary Sage, Neroli & Ylang Ylang). Once in the bath I tried an internal and could feel his head, but thought I was feeling it through my vaginal wall. I thought my cervix was still only 3-4cm at that point, but I wasn't sure, as it was not clear what exactly I was feeling. It was all still quite bearable though. Although I was starting to 'go inside' to cope during contractions.

Around 11:30 my midwife arrived. She did one Doppler heart-rate check and then left the room to give me privacy to do my thing again. Andrew mostly stayed with me, quietly, after that.

Our photographer friend Sam arrived. She was meant to just be there post-birth to do some fresh newborn shots. Andrew asked if she could come in. I didn't really care at that point. I opened my eyes as she came in, but after that it was like she wasn't there. She melted into the background and I was right within myself anyway... I mostly kept my eyes closed and was doing my own thing. Deep breathing and blowing through each contraction.

Andrew called Ruth to come back in at about 12:15. As I was clearly dealing with much more intense labour then. I started feeling pressure too. Ruth sat quitely crouched down near the bath and didn't say a word or even look directly at me. She believes that labour should be undisturbed and most unobserved. She is quite incredible. She is very empowering in a very humble and non-ego way.

It must have been around 12:30 when I started grunting and pushing a bit. It was pretty intense with a lot of pressure. I wasn't all that sure what was going on. There wasn't a clear change from normal contractions to definite pushing at first. I actually thought I just needed to pee... I was doing my own internals every few contractions and noticed his head moving down with each contraction. So yep, pushing it was then so I focused more deliberately on bearing down.

When it was clear birth was imminent the Ruth came closer but still just watched silently as I did my thing. I was moving around in the bath as felt right at the time. She never commented.

Then the head started crowning around my hands which I used as counter-pressure support - holy heck the membranes were still in tact so his head had a whole 'water balloon' around it. I was panting, blowing and pushing trying to control his exit so as not to tear. It's hard to hold back, but I knew if I didn't I'd tear. I think I was quite vocal then.

Once his head had eased out. I waited while I felt him twist ready for his shoulders to come. I could feel his whole head and ears etc inside the 'balloon'. Once he had moved to free his shoulder I pushed hard and watched his whole body slide out. All still inside his sac! 

As I lifted him up the sac opened and stripped off and stayed with the placenta while I pulled him free and up onto me at 12:49.

After 20 mins or so of chilling in the bath rubbing him and watching him wake up, breathe and get pink. 

I asked the Ruth to cut the cord, which Andrew did. Andrew and baby went to do skin on skin on the bed, while I stayed in the bath. Ruth said to do the placenta as and when I wanted. I ended up tugging the cord a bit and felt it moving down, so she said it was fine to pull cord if I wanted to. So I did while bearing down and pushed that giant sucker out. It felt like another baby it was pretty big! 

After that I got out the bath and went to the bed. Ruth left the room for a good hour to give us space while she wrote up notes and checked the placenta (which was heart shaped!). etc.

After she came back we measured and weighed him. 4.25kgs/9lbs6. 54 cm long and 34cm head circumference, and did the newborn health and reflex checks. All very respectfully and calmingly. Baby had no squashed head or face at all - the benefit of the sac and waters I think...

 Apart from it being intense at the end (which is part of the deal after all) and feeling a bit stingy (no tears but a very slight skid mark) now. It was a pretty perfect birth!

Welcome home little Benjamin.

 

 

Thanks to:

- Andrew for his constant love and support. And for again being calm and quiet and trusting me with this very important and significant job.

- Ruth for being the perfect midwife. She is quiet, respectful, reverent,  and completely trusting and supportive of physiological birth. She feels no need or reason to direct or cheer-lead at all. But just quietly be present, in case she is needed. It is so empowering being 'allowed' to fully trust your instincts and do birth the way nature intended.

- Sam for being so quiet, respectful and unobtrusive and yet being able to so beautifully and poignantly catch all these very precious moments. They are so fleeting and with the enormity and sometimes overwhelmingness of the actual moment it's hard to remember the details afterwards. Having the memories captured is invaluable.

- Our on stand-by Ob/Gyn Dr Catherine Elliot. For being supportive, practical, and trusting us. That we knew what we were doing, to be sensible, and so being willing to be an emergency back-up in the event that we needed to transfer to hospital. Not many doctors are prepared to support a home birth.

- For all our friends and family who have stood by us and carried us through the past 16 months through devastating tragedy, grief, mourning, and through to new hope. We couldn't have done it without all of the love and support from you all.

- And finally to dear darling Natey. Who is ever present in our minds and hearts and will never be forgotten. We still don't know or understand why his time with us was so short, but because of that Benjamin is here now. For that we are thankful. Thanks for all you were and all you taught us Natey. We love and miss you eternally.

Benjamin's Maternity Shoot

We did an informal maternity photo-shoot with one of Andrew's friends at around 34-35 weeks.

  

 

 

Pregnancy Progression Photos - Benjamin

These are the photos I took during Benjamin's pregnancy to document the journey...

Introducing Benjamin Bodhi Achilles Canter

Birth Announcement scribed by Andrew Canter
Photos by Samantha Squire-Howe of Twinkle Star Photography
--------
Dear Family and Friends

Jane and I are excited to announce the arrival of Benjamin Bodhi Achilles Canter, born at 12:49pm on Tuesday, April 24, 2018.

Jane has built this lucky boy conscientiously and carefully, and brought him into the world via a perfect, peaceful, water birth at home.

She has, again, given me a son – and I will be forever grateful and appreciative.

Love
Andrew

Etymology of his name:

Benjamin was the youngest son of Jacob, and the progenitor of 12th tribe of Israel. The name translates as “Son of the my right hand”, “Son of the south” (an allusion to his birth in Cape Town) or “Son of my old age” (an allusion to… well you figure it out).

With this name, we link our son to nearly 6000 years of lineage to the heritage and cultural values of Judaism: Community, family, ethics, perseverance, debate, learning & education, and food.

Bodhi is a Sanskrit name translated as "enlightenment" or "awakening". It is synonymous with the state of nirvana -- being freed from hate, greed and ego. The historical Buddha achieved his enlightenment as he meditated under a bodhi tree (ficus religiosa). Compassion is foundational to happiness, and we hope the name Bodhi inspires our son to be compassionate: During the past 16 months Jane and I have found compassion – whether given to us, or given by us – to be a great source of coping and healing.

With this name, we connect our son to the quest for personal peace, enlightenment, wisdom, and teaching -- and we bequeath him much of eastern philosophy, great places to experience, as well as his own tree species.

Achilles was, of course, the great Greek warrior and hero of the Trojan War. Strong, able, righteous, and decisive: A leader, but hot-headed and possibly heedless of risk. Nearly invulnerable, Achilles’ (like all heroes) had a notable weakness -- his heel. Whatever authority our son achieves in life we hope he will be reminded that no one is beyond reproach or failure – and that knowledge of one’s own flaws is critical to sustained success and happiness.

With this name, we connect our son to the strength, competence, and leadership of a great warrior – and we bequeath him all of Greek history and philosophy, the precursor of western civilisation.

Taken together, the name has balance: The Tribe of Benjamin was warlike – ultimately unwisely fomenting a civil war (with the other Israelite tribes) that largely led to its own dissolution. Likewise, Achilles in his arrogance was killed by his own vulnerability. Bodhi is the antithesis of Achilles – but both attributes (ego and absence-of-ego) are necessary to function in the world.

There are times in life for decisive, righteous battle… and times for inner reflection and the release of worldly concerns: But much of life seems occupied by the balance of the wise use of authority, the consciousness of one’s own motives and flaws, and in the judging of which attributes to apply, in what measure, and in which circumstances.

In sum, we hope his name serves our son as a reminder to be conscious of the need for wise balance in all aspects of his life.

A poem for Natey

A poem for Natey

Written by my special friend Cecile, who sees and feels things differently, and more deeply, than most others. Thank-you Cecile...

something woke me

in the early hours

just before sunrise

and I fell asleep again

fell into a dream

I saw a small boy running

running and laughing

on the beach

his red curls shone

and I called his name

I called him

I called "Natey!"

but the only sound was his laughter

he ran

he skipped and laughed

and I felt myself melting

melting away into a sadder world

where memories burn as bright

as red shiny curls

What no one tells you when your child dies...

I am writing this because it has been weighing on my mind, and I feel like writing about it may help me to process it, and also I think more importantly I hope it may help someone else in some small way...

There's no doubt that dealing with the death of a child is the very hardest thing a person can ever experience. Nothing compares to the loss and pain you feel. It doesn't matter whether it was an early miscarriage, late miscarriage, still birth, congenital defect or anything else. No matter what the reason, the result is the same  - immeasurable and constant deep deep loss and devastation. You never 'get over it'. You just, in time, learn to live with it.

I lost my first born, a beautiful and perfect little girl, Angelique, nearly 20 years ago now on 23 March 1998. I still think of her all the time even though, born far too early, at only 25 weeks pregnant, she was with us only for the briefest amount of time. You never forget, you never 'heal'. You are forever altered and changed. You, your being and your life take a new course after a child loss. It's a loss of innocence, loss of blind-faith, loss of who you were before....

But then there are the other losses, the ones that happen beyond birth and health issues. The ones where a child dies due to an 'accident'. These, in my mind, carry an additional layer of grief and complex emotions, as these are officially classed as 'preventable deaths'. Nothing quite captures the feeling when you first see that word as part of the classification for your child's death. Preventable. It could have (SHOULD HAVE) been prevented. It was PREVENTABLE!

And when your child (or anyone) dies of a preventable death, that death automatically gets investigated. If you think about it logically of course that makes sense. Any accidental death absolutely should be checked out to understand the circumstances and to ensure there was no negligence, or worse malicious intent, involved. It completely does make sense. I really understand that.

The worst scenario is where not only did your child die of an accidental death, but you were present (and in my case the ONLY person present) and so you are the focus of the investigation...

Even if you know, have accepted, and taken on the mantle of responsibility, guilt and shame for being the one who failed in the primary responsibility of a parent - to keep the child alive. Being  investigated by law enforcement for this and having to contract a lawyer to 'defend' you is possibly the very worst possible situation to be in.

And the problem is NO ONE tells you this is going to happen. No one warns you to be prepared that you are going to be investigated, and that there will be police, detectives, lawyers, inspectors, directors of public prosecutions, magistrates/judges involved. No one tells you just how scary, terrifying, nerve wracking and simply devastating it will all be. That you will be scared you will be found 'guilty' and have to face the 'consequences'... And if so, what exactly are those? Jail?? And then to feel like you deserve to be in jail anyway for failing your child so thoroughly and fundamentally.

I thought dealing with and having to LIVE through and beyond losing our precious perfect and beautiful Natey was the pinnacle of hurt, pain, loss and grief. We set about the impossible, but necessary, task of figuring out how to carry on after his loss and memorial in January last year. Trying to be as open, authentic, intentional and real as we could be through it all. I was compelled to go INTO the experience fully and write down every detail and thought as I relived it, in the hope of being able to process and make sense of what had happened and HOW it could have happened!? (This detailed information and time-line later proved to be crucial. I had no idea how necessary it would be, or that by sharing it publicly I could have inadvertently been exposing myself to liability (either way I am always entirely honest and have never had anything to hide)).

As I result of all that I have been through this year. When I heard of another family tragically losing their dear baby boy to a drowning in December,  I felt like I had to reach out to them and warn them to be prepared that it was not over, there would be more to come. And that it may not happen immediately either, it may wait until you think you are finally 'coping' and then blind-side you....

I wish someone had told me. Warned me. I hope this helps someone in a small way some day.

----

So this is what happened to me/us.

Around 6 months after losing the centre of our solar-system, our son/sun. Andrew planned a trip to Iceland. He had apparently already in his mind planned that he and Natey would go to Iceland when Natey was around 16 or so to do the trek through Thorsmork, in the area of the now infamous volcano Eyjafjallajokull. Andrew had been intending to do this trek in 2010. When literally 2 weeks or less before their planned trip the volcano erupted. So those plans were thwarted, and their trip to Iceland was curtailed to day activities in and around Reykjavik. One of Natey's names and his long-time nick-name in-utero, and as a baby, was 'Thor'. The volcanic eruption of 2010 caused 2 new craters on the side of Eyjafjallajokull called Magni & Modi (the name of Thor's sons). And so this hike became the teenage bonding voyage they were going to do as father and son once Natey was old enough. I hadn't know this until Andrew said he wanted to take this trip now with me, as a cathartic memorial journey. And so we planned the trip and took some of Natey's ashes with us as well as a 'love lock' and photo of him to place in Iceland.

What most people also don't know was that Andrew had also asked me to consider having another baby with/for him. And we were in the midst of that process. Just before the trip I had an IUI/AIH procedure and so when we embarked on the trip we thought I was newly pregnant. The trip was to be a big watershed trip of remembrance, acceptance, loss, grief and allowing ourselves to look forward with new hope to a new start.

As it turned out, on the very morning the hike started, literally 10 minutes before we set off on our 90km multi-day trek, I popped into the loo to the discovery that I was not pregnant at all. My period had come a full 4 days early, and I was entirely unprepared for it. I had nothing with me. I had to 'McGyver' my way through with home-made 'tampons' and 'pads' made from tissues and paper towels for the next few days. I was emotionally devastated. The trek, while truly wonderful, was so emotionally charged with a deep sense of loss and emptiness. In retrospect maybe that was right because it meant our full focus and attention was on Natey, but at the time all I felt was loss and emptiness... while in the most wondrous and beautiful place I had ever been.

Anyway the point is we came back from that trip having processed many deep emotions and after a final few bonding days in Paris. We breathed deeply, looked forward and went back to work.

Day 1 back at work on Monday 24 July 2017 at approximately 14:30. I was in a meeting with my boss when my phone rang. I didn't know the number so took the call quickly. It was Detective XX from Seapoint Police Station. She said I needed to come in to make a statement. I was genuinely confused and had no idea what about. I asked... and she said 'About the death of your son'... I felt a stake go through my heart.

I was confused, but printed off my blog post and went there immediately after work, just 2-3 hours later. I arrived and made myself known and I was told to sit and wait for a more senior detective. When he arrived he started asking questions and telling me I had to make a statement. I told him I was fully willing to do that. I handed him the print-out and told him that was exactly step-for-step what had happened. He started reading it and then handed it back. He mentioned a lawyer. I told him I was happy to make a statement, I had nothing to hide. He told me that the case would go to a prosecutor and depending on who got the case they 'might not like my story' and there 'could be consequences'.

By this stage I was becoming overwhelmed by emotion and I told him 'I was there, I was the only one there. I AM responsible. It happened exactly how I said, and if there are consequences I am taking them. I deserve it.' and I started crying. I started having visions of being locked in jail and letting my other boys down too... It was NOT a good moment. He again started talking about a lawyer. He said he COULD take my statement then and there if that's what I wanted, but it would be legally binding....I stopped and looked at him and said, 'Are you advising me that I need an attorney?'. He said 'Yes'. And then he said I should go for counselling too. I think he was trying to be kind and helpful but by that point I just wanted to get the hell away from him. They told me they'd need to send a team to take photos. Of what!? 'The pool and area'. What!? All the nets, gates and security measures were long gone, it was nearly 7 months later!??

I left and walked into the now dark winter evening. Crying. Not knowing what to do, feeling like a criminal. I phoned Andrew, telling him I was sorry but I had no idea what to do or who to turn to. I don't have a lawyer. He has contacts and said he'd reach out to the the legal firm he deals with for work matters.

I was uncomfortable using an attorney, feeling like that made me look like I was trying to spin my story and defend myself, when that was not the case. The truth is the truth and I was fully willing to tell it.

We met with the attorney. A nice, kind and clearly experienced guy (who charges R5000 per hour!!). He explained how these things work and how it's a structured process and that the benefit of using legal representation is that they know how to navigate the process as smoothly and quickly a possible. They know what kind of information and evidence the prosecutors, magistrates and judges are looking for to be able to make a call and appropriate ruling on the case.

He helped to guide us in terms of what we needed to include in our statements, what 'evidence' was useful. We had photos of all the baby-proofing and pool security measures, floor plans of the house, time and date stamped Whatssapps, SMSs, phone call logs etc. Also the blog post which had the exact sequence of events and timings (which I would NEVER have remembered in such detail at that point had I not taken the time to write it all out so soon). We had character references for us both from our au-pair, and the school principal. There was the post-mortem from the forensic pathology services (the morgue). I think the police constable that was present on the night, and who had stayed in touch with us, gave a statement too.

We submitted everything we had. And then we waited and waited and waited. With this axe hanging over my head, wondering whether I was going to be found 'guilty' and if so what that would mean..?

We finally got word recently on 26 January (so nearly 13 months after the event) that the magistrate had ruled on the case and deemed it to be 'an accident' and that no one was to be held responsible or 'culpable' and that there was no finding of any 'negligence'.

Of course it is a relief that in the eyes of the law I am not 'guilty'. But I can't say it makes me feel any better about anything. In a sense it is good that it is finally 'over', but it doesn't change anything, and it's not over. It will never be over, As I said, you never 'get over' the loss of a child.

But as least now we can go back to our grief and mourning and memories of Natey himself and not have the legal axe hanging over us.

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No one warns you in an 'unnatural death' that your grief will be complicated, compounded and extended by the legalities of it, and that you'll have to literally 'pay the price'. I wish I had been warned. I hope this helps to forearm someone else. (Although I wish more that no one else has to endure the heartache of losing a child, and especially to drowning. It is such a senseless waste of precious little lives.)

Natey's Yahrzeit Memorial

Firstly a disclaimer: I am not Jewish, so I am by no means an expert on anything relating to Judaism. But Andrew and his family are, and Natey was too...

Well technically Natey hadn't had his official conversion yet, which was required due to the fact that I am not Jewish - and yes very strictly in Judaism if the mother is not Jewish the child cannot be - which would have required a sort of water-baptism etc. But he did have a Bris on the 8th day, he attended a Jewish school, we sat Shiva with a Rabbi and observed the basic Jewish customs when he died (although again, he was cremated, which is not traditionally allowed in Judaism). So let's say, like Andrew, he was going to be 'culturally Jewish' if not fully compliant.

Anyway, the point is having been exposed to Judaism through Andrew and Natey now, I have seen and learned a fair amount about it and I have found that the customs and strong sense of community of it are pretty special and meaningful.

One of the traditions of Judaism is the Yahrzeit.

What is the Yahrzeit?*
The word ‘Yahrzeit’ is Yiddish and is translated to mean “time of year" and taken to mean the anniversary of a death. In Judaism, there is a focus on carrying on the memory of those before us from generation to generation. Based on Jewish law, the Yahrzeit is the day one year following the death of a loved one as calculated in accordance with the Hebrew calendar. This remembrance is performed annually by reciting the Mourner’s Kaddish and burning a Yahrzeit candle for 24 hours. Traditionally, the observance begins on the anniversary of the Hebrew date of death and the candle is lit at sunset. 

The Yahrzeit candle reminds people of the fragility of life and encourages them to embrace their life and that of their loved ones. A candle is often believed to be a symbol of the soul. This is one of the core reasons that candles are such an integral part of the Jewish religion.

Traditionally, mourners keep the candle lit for the entire 25 hours from sundown on the eve of the yahrzeit to sunset on the day of the yahrzeit and allow it to burn itself out. 

When the Yahrzeit candle is lit, the intent and focus for individuals is to take time out of the day to remember, honour and celebrate the life of the loved one. Traditionally, you will find that the Mourner’s Kaddish is recited on the Yahrzeit. It is customary and suggested that family and friends use this time to share stories and reflect upon the person who has passed and the legacy he or she has left behind.

As mentioned the official Yahrzeit is calculated according to the Hebrew calendar, which differs from the Gregorian calendar we use in daily life.

We will be using Natey's normal calendar date (30 December) as a day of memory for him, but will also be mindful and light a Yahrzeit candle for him on his Hebrew anniversary, which for those of you in the know is on Tevet 1.

This means that today, 19 December 2017 is Natey's Yahrzeit.
And coincidentally Natey died pretty much spot on at Sunset so the time of lighting the candle - which is at sunset - coincides almost perfectly.

Sunset today is at 19:56.

Sunset on 30 December is at 20:00.

#DoingItForNatey  #LiveLongDays
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Natey's official Yahrzeit dates:
YAHRZEIT
NATANIEL CANTER
PASSED AWAY 30 DECEMBER 2016
01 TEVET 5777
Tevet 1, 5777,"Friday, 30 December 2016"
Tevet 1, 5778,"Tuesday, 19 December 2017"
Tevet 1, 5779,"Sunday, 9 December 2018"
Tevet 1, 5780,"Sunday, 29 December 2019"
Tevet 1, 5781,"Wednesday, 16 December 2020"
Tevet 1, 5782,"Sunday, 5 December 2021"
Tevet 1, 5783,"Sunday, 25 December 2022"
Tevet 1, 5784,"Wednesday, 13 December 2023"
Tevet 1, 5785,"Wednesday, 1 January 2025"
Tevet 1, 5786,"Sunday, 21 December 2025"
Tevet 1, 5787,"Friday, 11 December 2026"
Tevet 1, 5788,"Friday, 31 December 2027"
Tevet 1, 5789,"Tuesday, 19 December 2028"
Tevet 1, 5790,"Friday, 7 December 2029"
Tevet 1, 5791,"Friday, 27 December 2030"
Tevet 1, 5792,"Tuesday, 16 December 2031"
Tevet 1, 5793,"Friday, 3 December 2032"
Tevet 1, 5794,"Friday, 23 December 2033"
Tevet 1, 5795,"Wednesday, 13 December 2034"
Tevet 1, 5796,"Tuesday, 1 January 2036"
Tevet 1, 5797,"Friday, 19 December 2036"
Tevet 1, 5798,"Wednesday, 9 December 2037"
Tevet 1, 5799,"Tuesday, 28 December 2038"
Tevet 1, 5800,"Sunday, 18 December 2039"
Tevet 1, 5801,"Wednesday, 5 December 2040"
Tevet 1, 5802,"Tuesday, 24 December 2041"
Tevet 1, 5803,"Sunday, 14 December 2042"
Tevet 1, 5804,"Friday, 1 January 2044"
Tevet 1, 5805,"Wednesday, 21 December 2044"
Tevet 1, 5806,"Sunday, 10 December 2045"
Tevet 1, 5807,"Sunday, 30 December 2046"

* Info from: https://www.shiva.com/learning-center/commemorate/yahrzeit/