- Lil Bryant, 30, lives on the remote Mount Doreen cattle station in the Northern Territory
- When she had her second baby Poppy she haemorrhaged so badly she nearly bled out on her bathroom floor
- The Royal Flying Doctors RFDS came to the rescue on the cattle station runway illuminated by toilet rolls
Here Lil tells her story in her own words
Dear RFDS,
Growing up on cattle stations in Mount Isa, Qld, I was 10 years old when I found out how important you, the Royal Flying Doctor Service, are.
My sister Jess was eight when she broke her arm. My mum, Kerrilyn, got straight on the radio to you.
Before long Jess was in an airplane and her arm was on the mend in no time.
Graduating from uni in 2017, I met my wonderful partner Sam, then 26, in Mount Isa when I was 23.
In 2023 we moved to the isolated 1.8 million hectare Mount Doreen cattle station, NT, 400km north-west of Alice Springs.
The rugged red earth and beautiful sunsets were phenomenal. We had our own air strip, with supplies arriving by plane once a week.
Sam managed the 15,000 head of cattle and the infrastructure, while I looked after the admin and helped him with the staff.
‘The rugged red earth and beautiful sunsets were phenomenal.’
With Alice Springs hospital four hours drive away, you were a lifeline. Becoming a mum to our son Dawson in February 2023, I realised just how important you were.
Born with two holes in his tiny heart Dawson was flown by you to Townsville Hospital for a scan at just a few months old.
‘
Last May, I gave birth to our girl Poppy, weighing 3.7 kilos and with a mop of black hair.
I had a small clot and lost a litre of blood, but everything else was fine.
She’s gorgeous,’ everyone said back at the station.
Poppy was just nine days old when I woke around midnight to hear her little squawk in the bassinet by our bed.
Reaching to feed her I felt a gush of liquid between my legs.
‘Put your hands firmly on Lil’s stomach…We may lose her if you take them off.’
Strange, I thought, stumbling sleepily to the bathroom. I gasped as a large clump of blood fell to the floor and blood began pouring down my legs.
‘Sam!’ I shouted.
His eyes bulged with fear at the stream of crimson flooding the white floor tiles, like it was a crime scene.
Ringing the RFDS helpline, I explained what was happening.
‘Sam, put your hands firmly on Lil’s stomach. You’re going to need to keep them on there until the plane arrives,’ the doctor instructed. ‘We may lose her if you take them off.’
As I began shaking Sam put his hands firmly on my stomach.
‘It’s okay, just breathe,’ Sam said.
Our nanny Bec put Poppy beside me and I breastfed her, thankful Dawson was asleep.
Sam called our friends Terry and Tim who lived and worked on the property. And when they arrived, Terry took over pressing on my stomach.
Sam and Tim went to prepare our airstrip 5km away, so your plane could land.
‘ Blood kept flooding.’
In and out of consciousness, I felt freezing cold. Bec wrapped me in a queen-sized doona and thrust towels below me as blood kept flooding.
We’re so far from the hospital, I thought as the doona soaked with blood.
I’d never felt so isolated.
Women have kids all the time, I told myself, praying you’d come in time.
‘When your plane came into view, I knew I was safe.’
Just before 3am, Sam and Bec placed me in the car and sped me to our airfield, all while Terry pressed on my stomach. Bec stayed with Dawson.
Sam had had the genius idea of dousing toilet rolls in diesel and setting them alight to light the way for your RFDS plane.
Otherwise, it was pitch black.
It was a light in the dark, like your plane was to me.
When your plane came into view, I knew I was safe.
You’re going to be okay,’ your nurse said gently, as I was loaded into the plane, with a worried Sam holding Poppy behind me.
At Alice Springs hospital the bleeding stopped.
‘Sorry I wasted everyone’s time,’ I said.
‘Lil you were dying on the bathroom floor!’ Sam said in shock.
I’d lost around three litres of blood, so had a transfusion plus iron and antibiotics.
‘‘I’m bleeding again,’ I groaned.’
Two nights later, I was allowed home, but the next day I felt another gush.
‘I’m bleeding again,’ I groaned to Bec.
Your plane sped me back to Alice Springs hospital again.
The bleeding stopped but I was writhing in pain.
‘She’s had two babies without pain relief! Something’s wrong,’ Sam told doctors.
An ultrasound confirmed I was having another haemorrhage.
I’d lost five litres of blood and needed surgery to insert a balloon into my uterus to stem the bleeding, so I could be flown to Adelaide hospital. ‘It may save your life,’ they told me.
Poppy stayed with the nurses.
Reaching Royal Adelaide hospital, I was a frequent flier, with three of your flights in just over a week.
Sam flew to meet me.
After more blood and iron, I had a diagnosis.
‘You’re not having the usual post-birth estrogen surge, so your uterine lining keeps collapsing – it’s very rare. Only one per cent of women get it,’ doctors said.
They gave me the contraceptive pill to stop the pain and bleeding.
‘It took a lot of air miles, an incredible team of people – and some toilet rolls! – to save my life.’
Three weeks later, I went home to my family.
Now nine months old, Poppy’s thriving and so is Dawson, now two.
It took a lot of air miles, an incredible team of people – and some toilet rolls! – to save my life.
I’m eternally grateful to you and all the medics.
Us bush families are so lucky to have you.
