I’ve been wondering whether I should share this with the internet or not. I don’t want attention or sympathy, I just thought that sharing my story might help someone else. I have been on the internet reading other people’s stories non-stop since this all happened and I know that reading that other people are feeling the hurt too, helps in weird way. Knowing that you’re not alone and that although you never forget eventually you can move forward.
It all started 3 months ago. I found out that I was expecting. I have wanted to be a mother all my life and we were both overjoyed to find out that we would become parents. We went along to the first doctors and midwife appointments and when the scan date came through the door we could hardly contain our excitement. We decided that we would tell family and close friends as if anything went wrong they could be there to support us.
3 weeks later the day arrived. We had to wait until two and it was the worst. Waiting all day to see our baby move around on the screen. They were running late and I hate waiting. Eventually we were called into the room. This was it the moment we had been waiting for. As soon as I laid on the bed and the sonographer started looking I knew something was wrong. It was just intuition. At first she couldn’t find the baby. Apparently my uterus wasn’t tilting back enough. Panic set in. I knew that this was the end. Then the words came out of her mouth that left us heartbroken. “I’m actually concerned, the baby I can see is a lot smaller than it should be and its heart isn’t beating.” My world came crumbling down. The sonographer asked if she could perform an internal scan to just double check. I agreed and held the smallest amount of hope that she was wrong, that my baby was still alive in there. I went to the toilet, broke down in there, came back and had the internal scan. She confirmed the worst. The baby’s heart had stopped beating at 8 weeks and I would be referred to the EPU (early pregnancy unit) to talk about my options. We were then sent to a private room where we cried our hearts out for the baby we had lost. I felt awful, I had been walking around not realising that my baby’s heart had stopped beating over a month ago. I still had all the pregnancy symptoms so for all I knew, I had a healthy pregnancy.
After waiting around in the private room for what seemed like a lifetime a nurse came and collected us and took us to the EPU. We then waited in that room for what seemed like another lifetime. Eventually a lovely Sister came in and talked us through what had happened and what needed to happen. As there were some complications I had no other option than having the surgical route to remove the baby. They booked me in for the following Wednesday and it was a horrific day.
The complications might not be complications. There was a possibility that my pregnancy was a partial molar pregnancy read about that here. So the surgical route was necessary so they could test the foetus to see what went wrong. I have to wait to hear back. No news is good news. So let’s hope I don’t hear a thing from them.
Physically my body is well on the way to recovery. Emotionally I am still struggling to cope. I’m angry that my baby isn’t still growing inside of me. I’m angry that the plans I had made are now useless. I know that time will heal my emptiness but I’ll always cry for the baby we lost.
I’m sorry that this post is so awful but if it helps just one person then I feel like it’s worthwhile. I also just wanted to talk about a topic that is so taboo and that women and the men supporting them realise that they don’t have to pretend nothing happened. They can grieve for the baby they lost and that their heart will always have an angel inside.
So that’s where I’ve been. I want/need to get back to blogging. I know that staying busy will help my peace of mind.Thank you for reading. I suggest you now go look at pictures of funny cats to cheer yourselves up.
If you’ve been through the same thing take a look at the Miscarriage Association website. Great for information and the questions you wished you had asked.