When we discussed trying for baby number 2 last year, my main worry was never about miscarrying as naively you think it won’t ever happen to you, it was more the length of time it may take to become pregnant, given age not being on my side. Don’t get me wrong I had worries on and off when I was pregnant with my little boy, but my gut always told me it would all be ok.
Roll on 6 months later when I didn’t start my period I was convinced I wasn’t pregnant and that my cycle was beginning to change, having previously missed a period one month. My partner told me to take a test and one night I took myself off upstairs and did just that. Straight away the blue lines appeared and I was over the moon and in shock, we both were.
We decided to tell close family a week or so later, when I was 6 weeks pregnant. We had booked a private reassurance scan for the 16th December, a day I will now never forget.
I had a feeling all wasn’t well as I didn’t have the strong symptoms that I had with my little boy. My tender boobs disappeared, and I didn’t feel sick, I was tired for the first couple of weeks but then that went. I kept asking my partner If he thought I may not be pregnant and had got it wrong.
We went for the scan, the three of us together, and as soon as I saw the image on the screen, I knew. The baby was tiny and I couldn’t see the heartbeat. The sonographer asked me if my dates were correct as baby was measuring 6w5d, by that stage I would have been 9 weeks. She then said the heartbeat was slow and to come back in a few days. I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I had to leave and walk through the waiting room where a pregnant lady and her partner were happily sat.
We left and I was in bits, we both were, but had to stay strong for our toddler who was worriedly looking on in the back seat. I ironically had my booking appointment with the midwife a couple of days later and called the hospital on the Monday morning, I had no idea Early Pregnancy Unit’s (EPU) even existed. I was seen on the Tuesday following our scan on the Saturday and the drive to the hospital on my own was horrendous. I kept telling myself it would be ok but deep down knowing it was far from it. The sonographer informed me that the baby had died and was measuring 7w4d. I was inconsolable.
The decisions following hearing that news aren’t ones that I ever thought I would be asked about or have to make. I decided on surgical management as it was days before Christmas and I didn’t want to be bleeding at home, I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible for our 2 year old.
On Friday 22nd I had the operation and was home for teatime. I’m not sure how I got through Christmas, it was so hard and I felt so lonely. I reached out to the Miscarriage Association for resources of help in the new year and joined a support zoom call which made me feel not so alone in my journey.
What I will never understand is why when something so tragic like that happens are there pregnant women suddenly everywhere and social media is filled with announcements. I had to remove myself and closed off as I couldn’t bear to see it.
Within 3 weeks my period returned, from January I focused on healthy eating fitness and completed a charity 100km walk in March with my little boy and my dog to raise awareness of Miscarriage and vital funds into research. I felt like I was on a knife edge. It gave me much needed focus.
We planted a tree in our little one’s memory and purchased a star. The baby loss certificates had also just been released so these, although a highly emotional experience receiving them, were much needed to honour our angel baby.
Mid-march my period was late. I had a cheap Asda HCG test strip pack from when I had to test following my surgery. A faint line appeared and an overwhelming sense of panic set in. I bought numerous tests and kept testing every other day to ensure the line was getting darker, it was almost an obsession. I told my mum and my partner but we agreed to keep it between us until we hit 12 weeks to tell further family members. What should have been a happy time was a mixture of anxiety, fear and a lot of tears. I was still grieving our first baby and felt guilty.
I called the EPU and they booked me in for a scan on the 8th of April – I was 7w5d from my dates. Those 2 ½ weeks were the slowest and most anxiety filled days of my life. I again didn’t have overly strong symptoms but they were stronger that the previous pregnancy, but still I found myself on the miscarriage group on Facebook searching for posts about symptoms to reassure myself.
We attended the scan and baby was measuring 6w5d and we saw the little heartbeat. It was the best news, and we were overjoyed but still cautious that things could go wrong. They booked me in for a scan 2 weeks later. A few days before the scan I began spotting. Googling, revisiting Facebook pages and searching for any answer that wasn’t that we were losing the baby commenced. I called the EPU on the Thursday and as I had a scan booked for the Monday and they couldn’t fit me in any sooner I had to wait. My partner and I agreed that we would go for a private scan as we couldn’t wait over the weekend not knowing, so we booked one for that night.
Sadly, again, we were told that our baby hadn’t made it. Our baby had passed at 7w6d.
I couldn’t believe it, twice in 4 months. I felt that ache inside again and had to go through the process again. The thought of facing the grief journey again when I am still processing the first is horrific. They contacted the EPU and they called me on the Friday, they couldn’t offer much other than to go in on the Monday unless I miscarried over the weekend. I didn’t and went in on the Monday morning. They confirmed what I knew, although they had baby measuring at 8w3d. I continued to bleed but I had to decide on what process to take.
I am attending hospital next week for a MVA so that I can go and come home within a couple of hours as although the surgical procedure was ok for me, I found it very lonely sitting in hospital for hours on my own and being away from my family.
I know from last time that once this is done, it hits you like a ton of bricks and then the grief rollercoaster begins, but again I have to carry on for my little boy even though I feel like shutting myself away.
Miscarriage is a lonely journey and one that isn’t spoken about enough, I hope that this changes to enable women to be able to openly speak about their journey in the future.
I pray that my journey isn’t over and that one day we get our rainbow.