11 August

I could feel my body changing, my tummy was becoming a home for our little friend as it slowly got a little bigger. I remember just before I would go to sleep, I would put my hand on my belly and say goodnight squidge.

The day before our first scan, we were so excited – after a month of hard hitting morning sickness, aching body and emotional moments. It was all going to be worth it to see our little baby.

My heart sank. Waiting in A&E for six hours not knowing was awful – Covid made sure I felt more alone then I already did. With my scan due tomorrow – after all that the doctor did a pregnancy test, felt my belly and I had lied awake for most of the night.

The sun came into the bedroom, but the glow and excitement of the day left me after the last night. The bleeding had stopped – it’s all okay, it will be fine.

I lied on the bed, in a dark room, alone with a clinical mask, I remember the feeling every tear rolling down my cheek and landing on the side of my neck while she set up the machine and pressed to find a heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry..”

No heartbeat.

My Husband was allowed in finally. His face when he saw me. We sank – finally I wasn’t on my own.

Felt like a bad dream I kept saying to myself ‘god, please let this all just be a bad dream’  this can’t be happening, I thought we did everything right, I thought it was all going to be okay.

I was just over 12 weeks hospital treatment was strongly recommended but not pushed as I had a missed miscarriage and our little friend only grew to 8 weeks. So again, the choice – be alone, or be at home and do it together.

They do not prepare you, for the contractions, the pain, the amount of blood, the vomit and the pushing, the ending.

I was fainting and all I remember was my husband carrying me, holding my head, rubbing my back, supporting me in ways that I never knew were possible. He was being so strong for the both of three of us, I mean the two of us. My mum was there throughout and providing what I longed to give parental love, while she changed, fed, and brushed my hair.

I am brave, I am Strong, I am powerful. Those are the words I used as a mantra through the hardest time of my life. I repeated them whilst crying with every inch of me.

The next morning, I turned to my husband ‘Oh so it wasn’t a dream then.”

Once month on – it still hurts. We began to nest, making room in our hearts and in the house. Now everything feels so empty, so big. It’s like waiting for something that never turns up.  It is hard to pull yourself of desperation, and the negative thoughts – so very hard. I see a baby and my heart pulls.


The word miscarriage is hard to say – we did not miss carry; our bodies did not make a mistake that would imply that we did something wrong. My fantastic body housed our baby for a short time and got me through one of the most traumatic things I have ever had to do – and with all of that I am still here, my body never gave up on me.

When I think of our little squidge. I am slowly feeling the happiness it felt and the beautiful possibility it gave me. I never knew I could love something so much, and for that I will always be grateful. My relationship with my husband has gone through the worst event of our lives but we did it together and that bond that you have given us will always be in our hearts.

We might not have a baby in our arms, but this whole experience has humbled me. One day when I finally hold my child, I will be so grateful and appreciate what a miracle a child is and one that many of us take for granted.

This was my journey, my experience. Going through this loss is the hardest thing and I want anyone reading this know you are not alone. No matter where you are in your journey, talking about our experiences is incredible healing – You are not alone.

Our first baby will never be truly lost, we hold you in our hearts and will remember you are the beautiful little miracle you were.

Last night I put my hand to my belly, one day.


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