COVID-19: My wife was gone… and no one knew for how long

When Juergen Ditz’s wife Catherine was diagnosed with the novel coronavirus, his whole world was turned upside down. She was put into isolation in hospital, while he and their two young daughters, aged just 4 months and 21 months, had to quarantine. Things took a turn for the worse when their frozen breast milk supply ran out, and the baby suffered a severe reaction to formula. Here he tells his story:

By Juergen Ditz, Guest Writer

 

The Lead Up

When Catherine told me she wasn’t feeling well I didn’t think too much of it. I told her to relax and just take it easy. She had a fever and just felt crap.  The new coronavirus crossed our minds but we thought it was probably flu, or perhaps fatigue from travel as we had just got back from Bali and had a tough journey back with two very young kids.

The next day things were no better, she had pain in her legs and the fever was back. Our minds tossed things over: Could it be flu? What about dengue? There have been a lot of cases in Bali this year.

Please don’t let it be COVID-19

She decided to isolate herself in the guest bed room, I brought her food and drinks in exchange for pumped breast milk. It was a sign of things to come.

The next morning suddenly she felt a lot better. No more fever, no more pain. We got our hopes up that it was just a little bug. But by 4pm she was back in the guest room feeling terrible and by 7pm she was finding it harder to breathe.

She felt like a stack of bricks was on her chest 

I called the Hong Kong health authority hotline and explained the situation but they said to call 999.  The ambulance came within 15 minutes. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and promised her I’d keep the kids safe.

My wife was gone… and no one knew for how long.

The Bomb 

Catherine had x-rays which indicated she had the novel coronavirus but needed blood and swab tests to confirm the results. She was put in isolation while awaiting the results.

Neither of us slept.

Back at home, so many things were going through my mind. If she was positive, what would it mean for us.  How long would our two young children – just 4 months and 21 months – be without their mother, or me without my wife.

And how could we feed our breastfed baby, without breast milk?

At noon, the doctors told her it wasn’t dengue. It’s a strange situation when that news comes as a blow.

I feared the worst… I was right.

That evening Catherine was given a preliminary diagnosis of COVID-19. We still needed the final confirmation, but we knew it was likely to be positive.

I was in tears but I had to stay strong. I called my family and a few friends, and asked for their help. I knew I’d need it over the next few weeks as I quarantined with our children.

Stocktake 

The proposed treatment for Catherine was a two weeks of anti-retrovirals, usually used for HIV cases, plus antibiotics and vitamin C. The doctors were clear she could not breastfeed and we had no idea when she might be discharged.

The news then went from bad to worse.  

I did an inventory of our frozen breast milk stash. I  didn’t know exactly how much our 4-month-old drank since she mostly fed directly from her mummy. So I kept a log to see how much she needed and worked out it was around one litre a day.

Catherine had pumped from the early days, so a quick count of all the bags,  showed we had enough for about nine to ten days. On average patients get out within three weeks, but this virus is unpredictable.

It was not enough milk to get us through till mummy came home.

And even if and when she was discharged, we still didn’t know if she would even be able to breastfeed again.

Looking down the barrel of two plus weeks in quarantine as a single parent, I realised life was going to be different for a bit.

A new routine started to kick in, we slept in, we had long breakfasts, we made pancakes together. There were long naps and long baths. We made the most of rooftop activities as we have a terrace and some swings so that helped, so did short bursts of Peppa Pig.

I did all that with the iPad in tow to keep Catherine involved

I knew seeing the baby would help with her milk production (she was having to pump and dump her milk in hospital, but was holding on to the idea that she would be able to nurse again on day).

So we didn’t just have conversations on FaceTime, no, we tried to have recreate family life – long distance.

 

 

Allergic Reaction

 

As the breast milk was running out I had no choice but to try formula. We’d hoped the baby would breastfeed until at least a year, so to cut it short at four months, was sad.

We bought formula for the “in case of” situations that you think will never happen to you. We never had any intention of using it unless something dire happened to my wife.

But something dire did happen…

I started off with the first bottle after lunch, just in case there was a  reaction I knew it was best to trial it in the day.

The first 50ml went down okay, but then our daughter’s skin started to turn red and some blisters formed on her neck. I knew then that this was an allergy.

I was about to call the ambulance.

But I called our midwife and paediatrician first and they advised using antihistamines, which cleared the rash within two hours.

But looking at the dwindling stash of frozen breast milk, I knew we were in trouble.

We were in quarantine so I couldn’t go in to a doctor or a clinic, or shop around for different formulas in the hope that our baby might not be allergic to one of them.

The hospital wouldn’t allow Catherine to keep the milk she was pumping, and the discussion to have our baby in isolation with my wife wasn’t even entertained by the doctors. This is despite the World Health Organization stating that mothers with COVID-19 that wish to breastfeed, should be supported to do so safely.

 

The Power of Social Media 

 

Once the children were asleep, Catherine and I talked things through. Our choices were limited: either sending the baby to be admitted into a public hospital once I ran out of milk, or to search for donations.

We opted for the latter and while friends of ours gave some bags of milk that would keep us going a few more days, it wasn’t a long term solution.

We needed more breast milk.

My wife posted in Hong Kong Breastfeeding, a Facebook group, and within hours mums across the city started pumping for our baby.

The admins contacted me to check my freezer space, and how much I had left. They told me not to worry.

Milk was on its way!

When the milk arrived, delivered by volunteers and dropped off according to quarantine rules, I was in tears and speechless. There was more than 10 litres of liquid gold, nicely packed, clearly labelled, and well organised.

I couldn’t believe it. In a place that is usually all about money, I saw real community spirit.

The baby took the new milk with no problems and it was as if a huge weight was lifted from all of us.

Then a week later Catherine returned home.

What I Learned

I have always been a hands on dad – having children in my early 40s meant I had already done all the backpacking, the junks, the messy nights partying, and the boozy races in Happy Valley.  In a town where domestic help is affordable and social pressures are high, there are a lot of men who make you wonder if they really want to be dads, or if they just want to have children – these are two totally different things.

I love being a dad so I have spent a lot of time with my daughters since day one. So being a single dad while Catherine was in hospital was – looking back now – not the main issue. It’s not unusual for me to handle the bathing, the changing, the feeding, and the nappies and we had friends and neighbours to help with supplies during quarantine.

The tough bit was that we were quarantined and we couldn’t bring in my mother or sister, or my in-laws to help. We were limited to our space and I couldn’t occupy the girls with adventures outside the house.  Instead I slowed our pace of life right down – long baths and lie-ins, cooking together and playing together.

I split the time up into blocks of five days, and it made the time go a lot easier than if I had thought of it was a 2-3 week stretch. In these tough situations, you quickly realise what you are capable of, and what you can achieve – you have no choice.

Family Reunited

 

 

 

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Surviving COVID-19: A Breastfeeding Mother’s Story

By Catherine Kosasih, Guest Writer 

 

It started with fatigue and aching muscles, but things deteriorated quickly as my fever soared.

I knew I had to go to hospital.

I knew what the symptoms meant, but I hoped I was wrong. 

I called 999 and very quickly medics in protective gear appeared, taking me in an ambulance to our nearest hospital for a chest x-ray.

The radiologist said there were white spots on my lungs. My heart sank, my mind raced, I was distraught for my family and I feared what might happen next.

There were no isolation rooms so I was sent on to Hong Kong’s Yan Chai Hospital where I was immediately put in one. There they did a nasal and deep throat swab.

The results came after 15 hours of waiting, confirming all my fears.

I was preliminary positive for the novel coronavirus. 

It was a shock and I was scared, but I felt glad to have called for help quickly, as it could have stopped the virus spreading to my husband Juergen and our daughters – aged just four months and 21 months old.

That didn’t ease the heartache of being apart, or the intense anxiety over our fate.

I had left the house suddenly and now had no idea how long it would be before I saw the most important people in the world to me again.

I worried about so many things: About them being quarantined, what would happen if they got sick, and how we would feed the baby — I had some frozen breast milk in the freezer but I knew it would not last long.

The  isolation ward had a prison-like feeling, with strictly no visitors allowed.

Even contact with doctors and nurses is kept to a minimum and all staff wore protective gowns, face shields, and gloves.

I saw the doctor in person only once, on my second day. 

He said the were a few white spots on my right lung and the only option was a course of antiretroviral therapy – usually used to treat HIV – to help fight the disease.

The rest of my stay the doctor only contacted me on my mobile.

From the outset, I told the doctors and nurses that I was still breastfeeding and needed to pump milk every few hours. I wondered if they could keep my milk, but they insisted it was not possible

They tell me the hospital has no obstetrics department and they aren’t sure how to keep breast milk safely. They also tell me it’s better to dump it because the HIV medication may pass through it to the baby.

I was heartbroken.

I wondered how Juergen would manage. I wondered how my babies were coping. I missed them terribly.

My COVID-19 battle brought so many emotions, so many ups and downs. There were good days and there were terrible days.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Nurses came in every six hours, and to deliver medication. The most interaction I had was with the care-taking staff – who came in twice a day to do a deep clean of the room. They are also the ones that deliver the meals.

Even in hospital, staying connected was easy. So I could FaceTime and see my family often, helping to wake up the girls or see them have dinner.  They were small things but they eased my loneliness.

After a few days, I barely had any symptoms  and I was told Juergen and the girls were not showing any either.

It felt like things were finally looking up and mentally that was a huge boost.

But then came the news my baby was allergic to formula. 

It was like a body blow.

She had such a strong reaction that Juergen considered calling the ambulance. I felt desperate.

I was distraught we had no way of feeding the baby.

I posted in Hong Kong Breastfeeding, a social media support group, for help finding alternatives and response left me in tears.

Within a day more than 15 litres – enough to feed the baby for two weeks – had been pledged.

It was incredible that in less than 24 hours people contributed so much to this milk collection. It helped me so much to know, that people were helping while I was stuck in hospital. That my baby was going to be okay.

I still can’t believe so many mums pumped for my baby – a stranger’s baby.

There was a local milk drive on Lantau, the island we live on, and also mothers across other parts of Hong Kong offered their pumped milk, which was collected and delivered by motorbike.

My partner was very emotional when he received the milk. It was dropped on the doorstep to stick to quarantine rules but as soon as we had it, it was such a weight off our minds.

I  felt enormous relief knowing our freezer was filled with milk

It was just so reassuring and one less thing for me to worry about in hospital.

Things seemed to improve each day after that.

They soon brought someone else into to my room because as case numbers increased in Hong Kong – up from around one hundred to close to a thousand – they ran out of isolation rooms.

In a way it was nice to have company

But I was glad it was just one extra person. I’ve heard of ‘isolation’ rooms being filled with eight or even ten patients with COVID-19, which would have brought it’s own risks.

There was more good news after doctors found my lung scans clear on day seven. Most patients are released between 14 and 21 days after admission, so I knew I was doing well at the half way point.

The first week seemed to last forever, but into the second I got a negative swab result, which got my hopes up for being discharged sooner rather than later.

Breastfeeding was a persistent worry though, I had spent a long time away from my baby and the impact of stress, pumping in difficult conditions, and the antiretrovirals caused my supply to drop.

The doctor told me I should not breastfeed for three months after the last treatment, which really shocked me and was a huge blow.

I felt like I’d lost precious time with my babies.

I also feared I would be unable to return to nursing after such a huge gap.

It felt like maybe the virus had taken a bit of my motherhood journey from me.

The doctor later revised his view, saying I’d ‘only’ have to wait maybe one or two weeks, which still seemed very long given the time we had already been apart.

I really wanted to re-establish our nursing relationship. 

Juergen called the Australian Breastfeeding Association, whose advice was that it’s possible to nurse 24 hours after the last treatment.

I mentioned this to the doctor who handled my case, who did some research on it as well. He called me on my last day in the hospital and confirmed we could resume 24 hours from last HIV treatment.

The virus is still new, so I guess they didn’t have enough information to hand and were being cautious, but I am glad I persevered.

This experience showed me how much breastfeeding mothers still have to advocate for themselves, for their babies.  It showed me how much we still must double check rules, regulations and guidelines because often advice given is not based on the latest research.

I was allowed to return home after a second negative swab. It was an incredible feeling.

We are all back together now and I am so thankful that we are healthy and came through it. It is baby steps rekindling breastfeeding, my supply is still not what it was, but I am determined to push through.

The virus showed me that we all should all be more grateful in life. I will be forever thankful to all the people who helped us. It’s wonderful to know that there is still a healthy amount of community spirit out there.

• Click here for more information about breastfeeding and COVID-19

 

 

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