5 February

Lauren and Jamie’s story

I’m an impatient person, I always have been. So from the moment I found out I had a tiny cluster of cells growing inside me, I was so excited to see my baby in a scan!

The first 7 weeks were hard, I was exhausted, moody and could hardly eat without bringing it back up again. Doing anything scared me, from lifting something to bending to tie my shoes and even coughing too hard. Every twinge had me going straight to Google to see if I was ok. Pro tip – stop Googling everything, no good ever comes from worrying too much.

On the 9th of January I had my first doctor’s appointment – we set a date for my first scan! But it seemed ages away, so me and my partner booked a private scan for the next day.

I was so nervous to finally see our baby on the screen. I jumped up onto the bed ready to see the tiny life I loved so much. There it was, head, body, arms, it was everything I’d hoped to see.  A breath of relief came from me and my partner.

Then all of a sudden I felt a rush of fear come over me as I looked at the nurse’s face. The words that will haunt me for life came from her. “I’m so sorry, I don’t see a heart-beat” I have never cried so hard in my life. Everything was rushing through my head, surely this is a mistake, can we scan again, what happens next, why me, why us.

They explained I had a missed miscarriage. I spent the whole weekend looking at my scan picture and holding my still solid belly wishing this was all just some nightmare. I wasn’t ready for it all to be over, I wasn’t ready for the future I wanted so bad to be taken away from me.

A few days later I was in hospital to talk over my options, we decided to go down the medication route and was given my first dose of misoprostol but nothing happened, I expected this to be the end of this ordeal but it wasn’t. Back at hospital I was given another dose but yet again, nothing had happened.

I felt so down that not only could my body not carry a baby. But it couldn’t miscarry it either. But it wasn’t my fault, and I realise that now.

The final option scared me, but we booked the surgery.

It was the night before the surgery when the worst night of my life began… every few minutes my uterus contracted and I’d never felt like anything like this before

My partner held me in bed as I cried and screamed in pain. Hours passed and I ran to the bathroom; before I knew it I heard the noise of something dropping into the toilet. My heart sank and I sat still in shock for what felt like a life time. I ran in to wake my partner up and said I think it’s happened. He followed me hand and hand into the bathroom where we both sat on the cold floor.

At this point we weren’t sure of what was in the toilet, but I knew I would never have forgiven myself if I had flushed it away. So I rolled up my sleeve, and lifted it out.

There our baby was… about an inch in size. 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes still attached to the placenta. We both broke down. I will never forget that image for the rest of my life.

I still went to hospital and still had to have the surgery to remove any remaining tissue, as much as I didn’t want the surgery, I wanted the ordeal to be over as it had been a painful and exhausting month from the first scan, to my surgery date.

Through all the still tearful nights, I feel so lucky to have the most amazing partner.

I will always wonder who our baby would have become, what colour its hair would have been, how its giggle would have sounded when my partner tickled it. But one day soon I hope we will try again, and I hope we will be blessed with the baby and the life we deserve.

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