I’d known I was carrying you for 1 week. After nearly 6 months of trying, there you were. That wonderful positive pregnancy test: 3-5 weeks it said.
We were scared but ecstatic, you were everything we’d hoped for. We instantly told our closest family – they were overjoyed. I even told my boss at work – her reaction was a stark contrast, she had miscarried her first pregnancy early on…
In that week we were in our happiness bubble. I ate too many Greggs vegan sausage rolls (was this a craving?), needed to pee a LOT (was this what pregnancy feels like?), felt as if I were glowing, smiled so much, dreamt of baby names and play-dates in the park. I cradled my slightly swollen belly as if it were the most precious thing in the Universe, and in those moments – you were so loved and wanted. I need to say that. You were so loved and wanted, and that didn’t change when we lost you.
On Tuesday morning I woke up with cramps, and when I went to the toilet I knew what I was about to see. Blood. But not too much? Then in the shower there was more, and we cried. Your Daddy sobbed and begged for you to stay with us… In that moment my heart broke. I already felt the grief creeping in… It was a pain I’d never felt before. But there was some hope. We clung to that for a little longer.
On the drive to A&E we didn’t know what to expect… We waited to be seen, I kept rushing to the toilet. Then it happened… I passed something larger than a clot… I couldn’t comprehend in that moment that I had lost you… I put it to the back of my mind… It was just normal bleeding…. This could still be okay, right?
We were eventually called to triage and they checked my obs and sent me to do a urine test. It was negative. I was so confused and we just stared at this poor nurse in horror. She sent us home, and told us to see the GP tomorrow.
We went home, silently. I cried, more than I thought humanly possible. My mum drove down and held me, I cried some more. We didn’t talk much, just held each other and sobbed. The next few days were a blur. I remember going to the cinema to watch a Marvel film with your Dad, we’d both been really looking forward to it – the cinema was our ‘fun thing’, a place of refuge. It’s good to get back to normal. This might help. I just sobbed throughout – like literally didn’t stop crying… Were people staring? Was this our life now? Just doing normal things but crying all the time? How does this get easier? Why does no one else want to talk about it?
Much the same was confirmed at the GP, we cried some more, I went numb. They booked me in for a scan at the Early Pregnancy Unit the following week to check I’d passed everything. I didn’t hold onto any more hope, I knew it was over and we were already grieving. The scan of my empty womb gave some closure… It was awful but an end at least. No more maybes…
We needed each other more than ever, and your Dad was an amazing support to me… I hope I helped him too? We climbed, well he practically pushed me, to the top of Pen-y-fan. That fantastic view and fresh air definitely helped provide some perspective… And healed a tiny part of my heart. We planted a rose – the ‘Sun-seeker’ in honour of you, it bloomed only once but was beautiful. We needed the closeness of each-other, and in a beautiful moment of intimacy amidst the sorrow, that’s when your brother was conceived. Our rainbow, just one month after we lost you.
And there your journey continues – all the love we felt then, still exists in him. Thank you for letting us love you, baby Savory, our darling precious one, and for that week of utter bliss and a lifetime of love you left in your wake ❤️
