Kapu Tī Kōrero with a Māmā: Jazz Barclay

Ko Hikurangi tōku maunga

Ko Awarua tōku awa

Ko Te Huruhi Te marae

Ko Ngāti Mahia tōku tupuna

Ko Te Roroa tōku hapū

Ko Ngāpuhi tōku iwi

Ko Ngatokimatawhaurua tōku waka

Ko Awarua tōku kāinga noho

Ko Pehirangi-Rua tāku pēpi

Ko Jazz Barclay tōku ingoa

Ataria Sharman: Please introduce yourself and your piri paua pēpi: 

Jazz Barclay: My name is Jazz Barclay, and I’m a 19-year-old wahine Māori who lives In Whangārei, New Zealand. My daughter’s name is Pehirangi-Rua, but we always make sure everyone knows Jacqueline is her second name. Jacqueline is my baby's only living namesake and my partner’s auntie, who birthed her and did her compressions at 27 weeks gestation. We owe her life to her.

What was your hapūtanga experience like?

It was short-lived. I was blessed not to have any morning sickness. Pehirangi-Rua was always big in her scans. Her feet were massive, and her body was long for her age. I had a good pregnancy. Everything was okay until I went to Ngāwha Hot Springs.

After work one day, I decided to head to Ngāwha Hot Springs because I had a sore back. I didn’t know you couldn’t have hot baths when pregnant. After I got out, I had a cold water shower and started having a sore stomach. It was sore for about six hours. I thought I needed to go to the toilet cause I was only 27 weeks into the pregnancy, which was far too early. That was until my water broke in our hallway.

My partner gave birth to the first half of Pehirangi-Rua, and Jacqueline, who lives next door, came over and gave birth to the rest.

How was that for you? Were you scared?

I was angry. I was in pain for ages but thought it was too early to give birth. Then I called the ambulance and told them, ‘There’s something wrong with me. Can you please come?’ They asked me, ‘Are you pregnant?’ I was screaming. ‘Do you have contractions?’ they asked, and I’m like ‘I’m giving birth right now!’ Then, ‘Do you feel any pain,’ and I’m like ‘Yes, I can see a head!’ 

It took them 45 minutes to an hour to arrive; by then, I’d given birth. The ambulance arrived after my midwife, who I called after them and lives across town.

The most painful part was holding her in. They told me to hold her in and wait for the ambulance when the water broke. Even when it had been an hour since I called, and I could see her head, they said, ‘don’t continue to push her out. Try to hold her in.’ In the end, it was like, no, I can’t anymore.

Were you angry because they took so long?

Yeah, and all the questions they were asking me. It’s like, I can’t answer any more questions; I’m giving birth right now. I’m 27 weeks, and I’m giving birth.

When she came out, my placenta came out, too, and it had broken. She wasn’t breathing because the placenta had broken, so her namesake gave her compressions. Then, when the ambulance came, they picked the baby up and left.

They didn’t take you with them?

No, I was lying there, and I was like, can I see her? But she was gone. My partner’s nan came in and said, ‘The ambulance people took her,’ I’m like, ‘What do you mean they took her?’ Apparently, it was because it was a cold house, and she was freezing.

Shouldn’t they have told you?

I know it was an urgent situation, but they should have. My midwife was a little shocked herself. She didn’t even get time to talk to them because they came in, took the baby and went on their way. She said, ‘You can take the baby, but you must inform me at least.’

Wouldn’t you have needed medical care?

Yeah, I was in the middle of bleeding out in the hallway. We rushed to the hospital behind them in a car with me bleeding out in the car, wrapped in towels. I walked into the hospital and asked, ‘Where’s my baby?’ The lady at reception said, ‘We don’t know where she is.’ I’m like, ‘What do you mean?’ I wasn’t in a state to give more details.

That morning, she was transferred to Auckland Hospital. I was seen in the hospital, and my partner and I drove down. As she was so small, I didn’t need any stitches. The after-pain, I imagine, isn’t like a standard pregnancy. I healed up pretty well.

In Auckland, we stayed in Ronald McDonald’s house for two months. It’s the best charity ever. They even had food for us. Her cousin was in Auckland at the same time. They’re supposed to be the same age, but she was born before him. 

His mother came to Auckland Hospital with him in her stomach. Her family were also staying in the Ronald McDonald House, so we had family around. After two months, we drove back to Whangārei, where she had one month in the hospital. Her cousin was born then, and he was right next to her. They got put in the same unit, the SCBU or Special Care Baby Unit, for premature or sick babies. They were chilling there together. They were neighbours in real life and the hospital.

As a young person, do you feel like you were treated differently?

Auckland Hospital was good; she spent a lot of time in Auckland. They kept us informed. They’d call up and ask, ‘Do you want to do this feed?” and I’d be right up. She had this lovely Indian nurse who called her her little baba ganoush or something. She was amazing.

It was a slightly different story at Whangārei Hospital. The nurses got quite attached, and were opinionated; they all had different ways of parenting and their opinions felt forced on me. I suppose they’re looking after and feeding her daily, but it’s weird when you come in, and they’re hugging and feeding your baby. And I’d say, ‘I can finish it.’ Then, ‘It’s alright, we’ve already started’ or ‘we’re almost finished anyway’.

The nurses almost growl at you sometimes. It felt like a nurse was growling at me once because Pehirangi-Rua was crying.

One of the nurses practically dissed my formula milk brand. I was using Karicare because I thought I’d try the same one I see everyone use, and this is my first baby. Now, I use a more expensive brand of goat's milk because she used to have dry skin.  But the comment wasn’t necessary.

I breastfed for a while, but my milk supply didn’t quite get there because I gave birth in trimester two. Then, when I had run out, there wasn’t enough milk because Pehirangi-Rua was drinking more. The Whangārei nurses made it harder for me. When I couldn’t provide enough milk, they were like we can get bigger containers, but bigger containers weren’t the problem. The problem was that I couldn’t provide enough milk.

I got my partner to take care of the milk a few times because they would always come and check on my milk containers and say, ‘You don’t have much milk today.’ I’m like, I know I don’t have much today. Towards the end, I got embarrassed to go in and see her because of it.

Where are you raising pēpi now, and how has this been for you? 

We live at my partner’s family-owned house. We will be moving to Whananaki in the future. His whānau has land so we will build next to them.

People say the first few months are stressful. But I had heaps of time to get to know her schedules before taking her home. I had three months to figure out how she slept and what she liked. When she came home, she slept three to four hours and would wake up, have food, change her nappy and go back to sleep. Now she sleeps through the whole night, eight hours.

She’s drinking and eating as much as a six-month-old would right now. I think it’s because, in her head, she has been on Earth for around six months, but she’s supposed to have the body of a three-month-old. Technically, she’s still only three months old. My baby has always been bigger or taller than all the premature babies in her ward. I think that’s why she eats so much, which is my current dilemma. I don’t know how much to feed her.

She has an outreach nurse who visits her every couple of weeks. They check how premature babies react to stuff and if they can focus with their eyes. Pehirangi-Rua is alert. She can lock onto things and smile. She knows who she likes and who she doesn’t. I think my daughter gets frustrated sometimes because, in her brain, she’s supposed to be sitting up and playing, but she can’t do everything a six-month-old can just yet.

How do you bring your Māoritanga to being a māmā? 

Through family events and stuff. I have to admit, though, I have been feeling disconnected from my Māoritanga lately as I’m no longer surrounded by it, or maybe I just haven’t had the time to re-embrace it fully, but that’s something I will be working on as Pehirangi-Rua gets bigger. Regardless, my baby has had a few trips to the marae, taking her to tangi and going through basic protocols with her. I've always loved kapa haka. So she’s also a little kapa haka fanatic.

What do you love about being a māmā?

I love changing her. She loves getting her nappy changed. She also loves baths; she would sleep in the bath if she had the chance. I love cleaning and dressing her, and she’s just happy to get some extra attention, so it’s a win-win.

How do you show self-love and care for yourself as a new māmā? 

Having a shower and washing my hair. I like to take my time in the shower when I can.

She’s young, and people are always like, ‘You're never gonna have alone time again’ and all that, but my partner’s family are pretty involved. And if my Nana doesn’t beat them to it, they are always willing to babysit, so we try to go out when we’re not tired—going out to eat or drive in the car, inviting that one friend to talk. It’s the simple things in life, everything you used to do before but took for granted.

It’s pretty easy to feel guilty for going out but trust me when I say that as much as you don’t want a frantic baby, you don’t want stressed-out parents.

Do you have any advice for other wāhine hapū?

Don’t go swimming in hot springs if you’re pregnant. They should put up a sign, ‘No pregnant women.’ Maybe most pregnant women know. I don’t know why I didn’t know. But do not go to hot springs.

For families with a child in hospital, Ronald McDonald House Charities® New Zealand is their safe space—for some, it may be their home for months at a time. Donate to Ronald McDonald House at https://rmhc.org.nz/donate/ to ensure families can access accommodation, food, and support during their child’s hospital treatment.

Photography by Wiremu Katene