25 March 2020

I am a 41 year old not mum and I’m struggling a wee bit, but getting there.

I fell pregnant unexpectedly in Aug 2019. Initially, due to poor communication, I sought a termination. 3 days later I cancelled that and my partner and I allowed ourselves instead to be overjoyed. We hadn’t realised how much we wanted a child together. At 8 weeks I got some discomfort and a small bleed. The same evening my partner took me to A and E in our wee Highland town. Unable to stop the heavy bleeding, I was taken by ambulance to the nearest big hospital around 100 miles away. By Friday afternoon, after much ado, I had an operation to remove the remaining “products of conception”. I already had PTSD triggered 4 years previously and this kicked it in again.

My PTSD coping methods worked for me and we rose like the proverbial phoenix. We decided to let the universe decide and hoped for another pregnancy, whilst doing everything right, including taking the right vitamins. We were ecstatic when my overdue period led to a positive test in February 2020, just as Covid 19 was starting to really plague the world. I was absolutely “bricking it”, I believe is the correct phrase. Every time I pulled my underwear down, I was expecting to see blood. My partner refused our normal very active sex life, unbeknown to me, blaming that for our first miscarriage. But we started to relax a wee bit and started to look forward and plan.

At the end of my 9th week, my midwife visited me at home. That saturday evening I got a patch of old blood. Wednesday evening I was once again standing in my bath, unable to stop the bleeding and losing blood clots the size of my palm. I was told I couldn’t just go to A and E, so I duly contacted the triage emergency midwife. She declined jurisdiction of me as I hadn’t yet had a scan. 111, after 40 minutes, told me I should speak to the midwives, but instead would get a doctor to contact me within 2 hours. The pain was quite horrific and the blood….so much blood.

In the end, a local midwife that I spoke to at 8am the following day told me to immediately get to A and E. Between that call and my partner coming to get me (he had an emergency call out) I almost passed out twice. But we got there. An hour later I was sent 100 miles to the big hospital again. This time my partner couldn’t be with me. I honestly thought I was going to die alone in that hospital. It was terrifying. They ended up performing an evac procedure on me. Fortunately due to a truck load of spa tone and junk food in my bag, I just about avoided a transfusion. They couldn’t get everything, so I needed up with a further heavy bleed three days after discharge from hospital, but it was the last of it.

Of course, miscarriage is a very common thing and we mostly don’t know why it happens. Why I miscarried in this way twice, I’ll never know. No one can say if it will happen the same if we try again. So now we are in purgatory, wandering around, not knowing which way to turn, whilst the world is still going crazy. I did survive though. We will get there. We have a difficult decision to make about our future, but that is not a decision we can make now. I need to heal and we need to heal together. My body needs a break and our mental health needs to be healthy to make this decision.

I tried to keep this as brief as I could. I hope someone reads it and knows they are not the only ones to have suffered these rather rare and ‘spectacular’types of miscarriages.

 

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