**Trigger warning- This post is my 100% honest account of my miscarriage with raw emotion and details**
I lost my baby.
I had a miscarriage and it was the perfect storm.
Finding out I was Pregnant
We had been trying for 10 months and we couldn’t have been happier when we got that positive test. I was in the middle of a week off work and I didn’t quite feel right. I was constantly falling asleep and my sense of smell had changed slightly. Not only that but I thought I was late. I never really tracked my period so, to be sure I wanted to wait a few more days until I took the test. But, the sun was shining and we were both off work. My partner suggested getting a bottle of wine. I agreed but I wanted to take the test first. It came up inconclusive and my heart sank. My partner picked me up, dusted me off and said we would try again tomorrow.
It was super early the next day. He was due to go out fishing and I was too anxious to stay asleep. So I took the test. Pregnant. We waited a few days and took a clear blue date tracker one. Pregnant. 6 weeks.
I remember the day we found out. I ended up going fishing with him. All I ate that day was some mango and a bag of salt and vinegar Mccoys. It was the best food I had ever tasted.
Pretty quickly afterwards we told our close friends and family. We were going to wait a while to tell his first born but I was too excited and we wanted him involve in the whole journey. We never wanted him to feel pushed out.
The Pregnancy
We were in our little bubble of happiness. The first couple of weeks after finding out were a breeze. But then the morning sickness started and was so much worse than what I thought it should have been. I couldn’t get to the toilet from the bed by myself. But, it was just dizziness, nausea and I was weak. Throwing up wasn’t really an issue. When I rang to make an appointment I remember the receptionist questioning me. “You do know morning sickness is normal?” But, it wasn’t. I had Hyperemersis and things just kind of went down hill from there. I had to change my medication due to a risk of cleft lip connected to it. I was still so, so poorly on the new medication.
At about 8 weeks, not long after we had found out I started spotting. Everyone from 111 to the midwife said it was fine. Nothing to worry about. Then one morning it didn’t feel right.
The Loss
There was a bit more blood than normal. I woke my partner up. It was super early in the morning and I rang 111. I remember just lying in his arms freaking out, waiting for the doctor to ring me back. Get to A&E as soon as possible. We threw on some clothes and jumped in the taxi. On the way there the pain started. I felt a sharp pain drop from my stomach all the way down. I knew what had happened. As I got out of the taxi I felt a “pop” and then the blood started to come. I was so embarrassed that I immediately took my cardigan off and wrapped it around my waist to hide the growing pool of red in between my legs. I could barely get all of my information out at reception. The poor guy behind the desk was so apologetic and going through it as quickly as he could. We took a seat. I was still so damn embarrassed about the blood. All my partner could do was try and calm me down despite the chaos he must have felt as well.
Soon after, our nurse came and got us. Visibly pregnant. Cruel twist of fate from the universe on that one.
A&E was a scary setting. Bright lights, somber colours, people moaning, groaning and shouting. I felt like I was on display walking through.
They needed a pregnancy test. So I got given something to pee in and directed to the nearest bathroom. I made the decision to go to the bathroom alone. There was no way anyone could have prepared me for those next few minutes. Just getting in and out of my jeans was a task. There, sitting in my knickers was my baby. Safe to say I forgot to pee for them to take the test. I think in that moment instinct took over and adrenaline kicked in. I popped everything they might need into the dish, washed my hands, cleaned the bathroom up as best I could and struggled back into my jeans.
I gave the nurse the dish, it was confirmed our baby was in it and we just waited. I was moved up onto the bed and our doctor came in. She struggled to take some blood from me. I just sitting there thinking “I’m surprised I’ve even got any left in me”. She also, finally talked me into getting changed into some hospital knickers and a gown. She even managed to find me two so I could be fully covered. I went back into the bathroom. This time with my partner. This time I actually needed to pee. Taking my pants off to go to the toilet everything on the floor just went red. My womb lining had come away. Again, I felt embarrassment and tried to clean it all up. My partner stopped me, helped me get cleaned up and into the gown and went and got the doctor. She told me not to worry and she would clean it up. Safe to say the jeans went in the bin. I sat on the bed and my partner went out to ring his mum to see if she could run by our house to grab a change of clothes for me. That was the only time he left my side. Even though he was hurting too, he never let anything but me and my health be the focus.
Eventually it was time to go to the maternity ward. I wish I could say that I pinched myself and it was all a bad dream. Or even that I could just go home and start grieving. They had to make sure that physically I was okay. As they were moving me up there, there wasn’t always enough room for my partner to walk along side of me. Sometimes he had to fall back and he was out of sight. It was hard not to panic. The porter got the wrong location, he kept joking with the nurses and I just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Yet again, I felt like I was on display for the whole world to see. We sat in our own little room for a little while. Eventually a student nurse came in. “you’re lucky, you’ve got the first appointment of the day”. Lucky. Lucky to look at my empty womb. I felt over the moon about that one. It obviously angered my partner too. I also had to have an internal scan. To make sure there was nothing left behind inside that could cause an infection. I have never felt so vulnerable. Ass proped up, legs akimbo, blood everywhere and someone rummaging around.
There was nothing left behind. It was the perfect storm. I’d be able to go home pretty soon after.
It wasn’t long after this that my mother- in- law came. I’d never felt so happy to have a “mummy cuddle” and put some joggers on. I was still pretty numb at this point. I wanted her to make sure my partner was okay. I needed him to feel just as much cared for as I was. I didn’t quite have the luxury to just get up and give him a cuddle as and when. Not long after this I had another nurse and a doctor come in. Both so lovely. The nurse took my canula out. We all had a laugh about how much of a wimp I was. The doctor gave me a sick note for work and we were on our way home.
I left with the following information:
-I would bleed for roughly the length of a period and told what to look out for.
-I needed to take a pregnancy test in 3 weeks to make sure it wasn’t an ectopic pregnancy.
- My body would take roughly 6 months to a year to go back to normal.
-Some numbers to call if I needed anything.
Going Home Empty
I got home and was ordered to bed rest. While my partner and his mum nipped out to hand in my sick note and get me some toiletries I slipped in and out of sleep. My best friend was buying a chair for the baby. I messaged her telling her not to do it anymore. That was the first time I sobbed. I had cried in the hospital but very quickly adrenaline had kicked in for me.
I thought I bounce back pretty well. We waited a period and started again. I got a promotion at work. I looked on the bright side. It was hard when people messaged checking in on the pregnancy but those messages soon stopped. Until December came. I was 10 days late. Convinced I was pregnant. I took a test. Negative. An hour later I got my period. It was like a cruel trick. But, I bounced back. It was peak trade at my job and I was still learning the ropes. Then my due date came sneaking up. March 16th. Then the pandemic happened. Safe to say I’m still struggling with it. Hence why I’m writing my story.
Periods are always hard. Not only do they symbolise another month of unsuccessful trying. But, the smell of the blood immediately takes me back to sitting on a hospital bed in a pool of my own blood.
One of the biggest things I learnt following my miscarriage is people become experts. Those that had told me “You need to stop wanting the baby so much otherwise you’ll never fall on …blah…blah…blah” became the ones telling me “you’re young! You can try again!” like I had just lost an earring and could easily replace it. Miscarriage is common. But yet, it is still taboo. Throughout my miscarriage I was embarrassed and I can’t even explain why.
Guilt is the hardest emotion I’ve experienced. Constantly replaying everything I did and ate while I was pregnant. Was it the medication for my Hyperemersis? Did I work too hard? Too much pop? Did I eat something I shouldn’t have? I got into a fight with my partner, did I get too stressed? Was karma catching up on me because I’d said this would be my only baby? I had a difficult, but short pregnancy. I didn’t want another in that moment. I’ll never really know.
On September 1st 2019 at 12 weeks I became 1 in 4.