For my whole life I’ve always known one thing. One absolute thing that I’ve wanted from life. Everything else always changed – the type of job I wanted, the type of person I wanted to be, the clothes I would wear. The one thing that never changed was that I wanted to be a mum.
I’ve got my wish and I feel like the luckiest person in the world for it. I have the most beautiful, incredible son who I love more than anything in the world. He was an unexpected surprise that came at the best time, he entered my life after my Gran, one of the closest people to me, left it.
My son changed my plans and I’m so glad he did.
This August I found out I was pregnant again. I saw those lines and part of me was excited, but part of me worried because my son was still so little and I felt guilty.
As the days went by I found myself thinking about the amazing bond they would have. Them playing with each other, then fighting, them always being there for each other and my son having a forever friend, having someone so he would never be alone.
I was excited to have another baby.
We told some close family members and this only fed my excitement more, getting to talk about it with people. Everything becoming more real, the images in my head forming clearer and clearer every day.
I have never had regular periods and I wanted to check how far along I was so I booked a private scan to see. My mum came with me. I was nervous and felt sick the morning of the appointment.
I went in and lay down on the bed. It was the same man who had told me my son would be a boy, I recognised him instantly. He put the gel on my stomach and started to scan. His silence started to alarm me.
He told me he’d have to do an internal scan to get a better look, but with this scan the silence remained until he said, “something doesn’t look right.” The lump instantly formed in my throat and I couldn’t help the tears creeping out my eyes.
He told me there was no heartbeat, I was devastated. I cried the entire way to my mum’s car as she tried to comfort me. There was no comforting me.
2 days later I went to the early pregnancy unit at the hospital, I wanted to know what was going on. I didn’t know why I would have to wait 2 weeks if I had had a missed miscarriage like the man had said. I had blood tests and urine samples done, all of which showed I was pregnant so I had a scan arranged a few days later.
I went into the scan so determined that this would just be a confirmation of what I already knew, that I had had a missed miscarriage. I had done enough crying over the weekend, had enough breakdowns, I could handle this. What I couldn’t handle was what they did give me – hope.
The doctor said they could see the fetal pole, the yolk sac and everything looked fine, that it might just be too early for a heartbeat so a follow up scan was arranged.
I tried to push it out of my head for the next week – something that was impossible. I tried not to get excited just in case, but those images of my son and this new baby came crashing back into my head. The words of family members ,“I just know everything is going to be ok now” filled me with hope. It was hope I was terrified to lose.
I had never felt so nervous for a scan as I did the day I went in for the last one.
I was on the bed and as they looked the doctors were silent. I could see the screen and I knew, I knew there was no heartbeat. I mimed to my boyfriend and said to him but he kept saying, “just wait”, but I knew and soon enough they told me that it was a missed miscarriage.
It was like finding out all over again. I tried to hold myself together as we were sent back to the waiting room.
I was grateful that the nurse came and called us out and directed us to our own private room. As soon as the door closed I let the sob I had been holding in escape my mouth as I cried. I thought I was dealing with it better than after the first scan, I wasn’t acting as devastated.
Another nurse came in and gave me a leaflet explaining the choice between surgery to remove the ‘retained products’, as they called it, or a medical miscarriage. She left me and my boyfriend alone to talk.
We had 15 minutes to decide.
15 minutes to make a decision I never wanted to make.
I didn’t know. I had never even heard of either of these things before that day.
After lots of back and forth in my own head I decided to go for the medicated miscarriage. A student midwife came in to do my bloods and I was able to chat and have a laugh with her. I hadn’t expected to be able to be so talkative. I was given a pill which I took and then 4 more to take the following day at home, and we left.
My boyfriend asked me what I wanted to do, I didn’t really know but I wanted some mac and cheese bites from TGIs so that’s where we went, to get a takeaway. My boyfriend’s sister had kindly given us some money for food after hearing our news.
That night we stayed at my boyfriend’s mum’s house and the following day my mum came and picked me and my son up. I was anxious to take the other pills, I just wanted the whole ordeal over with.
When it was finally time I put the 4 pills in my mouth and they started to dissolve.
I was told the pills usually started working anything from few hours after you had taken them up until 48 hours.
These pills worked no more than 30 minutes after I had them.
I went to the toilet and heard a plop and saw the blood. I put a sanitary towel on and went back into my mum’s living room. Soon the pains started, period cramps, I decided to take the painkillers the hospital had prescribed me in case the pain got worse.
And it did get worse.
Soon I had puked 3 times and was bent over in agony. I spent most of the day on the toilet as clot after clot came out of me. I was desperate for it to be over and to be out of the pain.
After a while I came out of the toilet. I hadn’t eaten all day, so my mum gave me some French stick with butter on. I just about managed to eat one ring before I was running back to the toilet. I called my mum. My hearing had gone funny and I felt faint, I fell into my mum while still on the toilet as she was holding me. Suddenly I gagged and asked her for a bowl, the sudden urge to throw up bringing me back into the room. My mum rushed and brought me a bowl as I couldn’t get off the toilet and I puked up the bit of bread I had eaten.
The agony continued for the day but eventually after I passed a huge clot that filled the bottom of the toilet. The pain eased up. I was freezing and felt weak. Once my boyfriend got there and we got home he placed some mats on the bed and I got in. He went out and bought me some food as we hadn’t done a shop yet, and I was finally able to keep some food down at 9pm that night.
I just wanted to go to sleep, sure I would feel better in the morning.
When I did wake up, I didn’t feel better. I felt sad.
I hadn’t expected this, I thought I was dealing with it well but this was a sadness I couldn’t shake. I knew how lucky I was – I had a beautiful son and I was so grateful for that and I felt guilty for feeling so upset. But I was upset, I was devastated. I had a whole future imagined in my head and part of it was robbed from me so quickly.
There was one thought that consumed me all day – ‘I want to be pregnant again’.
It was an all consuming thought. I had never been so desperate for anything in my life I just wanted to be pregnant again as soon as possible.
And then I was angry. Angry that I wasn’t pregnant, angry at everything, at the rollercoaster of emotions I felt I had been put through over the last few weeks.
All those what ifs that will always be what ifs.
I have times when I feel ok but then the wash of sadness will come crashing down so suddenly and so unexpectedly that I’m caught off guard and don’t know what to do with the sudden pain.
I feel like no one understands that I talk to and I feel melodramatic for thinking it.
I know plenty of women go through miscarriages but I only know how I feel right now and that is loss.
How can you grieve someone you never knew, someone who wasn’t even formed properly yet – and yet I do I grieve my little what if. I grieve the future I imagined with them, I grieve the imaginings of my son playing with them and having his forever friend.
The one thing I feel about my miscarriage is alone.
I am not alone, I have an amazing support system of friends and family but I still just feel alone. Only I am grieving this loss, only I know the future I had planned in my head and only I know how utterly devastated I am now.
My second pregnancy will forever be my what if.