I celebrated my 21st birthday in true style back in December 2019, surrounded by my family and friends. My cousin had arrived and shared the news that her and her partner were expecting a baby, it was my greatest birthday present. Two days later on the 16th of December I noticed I had missed my period, with my family joking with “it’s you next”, I decided to do a test, and lo and behold it was positive. There were a number of emotions that came flooding through, considering this was my first pregnancy I was extremely overwhelmed. I felt terrified.
At the time, I was working two jobs. I had booked a doctor’s appointment as I had some light spotting. The doctors completed their tests and confirmed the pregnancy. They supported me by booking me an early scan as my anxiety relating to the pregnancy was so high. On 2nd of January 2020 I had my scan, baby was healthy with a stable heartbeat and I was overwhelmed that everything was okay. As is typical, my family and friends bought lots of baby clothes and thoughtful gifts. I was due on the 8th of August 2020!
I continued with my normal routine until mid January when I was experiencing more bleeding than before. I called my assigned midwife as I was so concerned whilst at work and felt let down. The response I had received was “if you miscarry, you miscarry and there’s nothing you can do about it”, which worried me even more-so.
Personally, I feel that as a woman, you know your body and typically your motherly instincts kick in. I knew something was not right. I was supposed to be around 12 weeks and could feel no growth or other symptoms of pregnancy. On the next day, I was on a late shift at work and had to leave to go to A&E. I arrived and waited from 7:30pm until 2am to be seen. The gynaecologist said everything was okay, the sac was intact and she had no concerns, but invited me for a scan the next day.
This is the day my heart broke, the 30th of January 2020… I laid down for my scan. The nurse prodding and poking at me to find the baby was the hardest part… And there was no heartbeat. Hearing those words makes you feel something that you’ve never felt before.
Comparing the two scan images was the hardest pill to swallow, one measuring 8 weeks and 1 day and the next measuring at 9 weeks four weeks later. I was taken into another room to discuss my options.
The miscarriage happened naturally. I felt that it was not explained just how painful the process is physically and mentally. I was eating out when it happened and it was scarring, having to apologise for the aftermath at my local pub/restaurant. The pain from then was utterly unbearable. I remember waking up in a pool of blood. None of the process itself was explained and I felt more alone than I ever had before. The emptiness overtook any other emotion I could have felt.
Hearing my family and friends saying “these things happen for a reason” and “it was not meant to be” was their attempt to be consoling, however this just seemed to add to the hurt.
Over time, I came to terms with the loss of my first child, but I was robbed of my firsts. My first baby, my first experience of motherhood, my first opportunity to love another more than myself or anything else on earth. Robbed. But I know my time will come when it is right for me.
I continue to feel anxiety regarding the subject, since experiencing this at such a young age and having such little knowledge prior to this. I now feel I am able to speak openly about this. Experiencing it first hand makes you much more aware of the feelings of women worldwide and it creates a community of sharing experiences and supporting each other.
I do feel that I will continue to have anxiety throughout my adult life, when the time is right to start a family. But, for now, I am at peace.
Looking in hindsight, this was a time when I felt that my body had failed me, and I had failed. But an important factor to consider is that, we, as humans are all perfect in an imperfect way. We don’t have life planned out and if we do, there are bumps in the road. And this was probably my biggest. Now, almost 3 years on, I have learned to deal with this. I am stronger mentally, although scarred and traumatised by the events.
I am a strong woman, just like many other women who experience the same.