Hearing the words “there's no heartbeat" made me feel like my own heart would stop

We were so excited to start our journey to becoming a family. We'd just got married and bought our first house together. We were completely unaware of the pain and heartache soon to follow.

I saw the positive test and already imagined our future, this tiny baby. We were both so excited. Then a few days later, around 5 or 6 weeks, everything just felt like it froze; I started to bleed and our little bundle was gone. 

The nurse didn't really say much, just that we could try again. At the time, I don't think I really processed what happened, it all happened so fast. 

Our Christmas rainbow

We wanted to try again and it wasn't long after this I fell pregnant. I was very anxious those first few weeks, desperately waiting to get to the 12-week scan. Thankfully everything was OK and our beautiful rainbow girl Elizabeth was born on Christmas Day.

As soon as she was in my arms I felt completely in love with my tiny baby, relief she was here and excitement for our future. Elizabeth did end up having to spend a few days in the neonatal intensive care unit as she wasn't gaining enough weight. Fortunately, I was able to stay with her the whole time and we were back home for New Year’s Eve, ready to start the new year as a family.

I felt so angry and alone

Elizabeth was around 7 months when we experienced our second miscarriage. I was 7 weeks pregnant and was put straight in for an emergency scan. When we arrived at the appointment my husband was told to leave, due to COVID restrictions. I remember being stood there in tears asking that he could stay with me.

That scan was one of the worst experiences of my life. I remember thinking to myself, I'm totally alone right now yet people are being encouraged to eat out. I felt angry and heartbroken all at the same time. The sonographer seemed very matter of fact about what was going on. She told me it didn't look good but to come back in a weeks’ time to be sure.

This was followed by medical management once it was confirmed I was miscarrying, because I wasn't fully clearing naturally. After a couple more scans and with the pregnancy showing as gone I was just told that we can try again when we feel ready. Because I already had Elizabeth, I was told there was nothing more to do.

Silent miscarriage

A few months later, we decided to try again. This time when I saw the positive result the feeling of anxiousness overtook any joy I had. 

It's hard to describe that feeling of wanting something so badly, yet at the same time that feeling of absolute panic. 

After our previous experiences, I had booked in for a private early scan and was relieved that everything was okay. Unfortunately, when we went for the routine 12 week scan we saw no heartbeat and our baby was gone. I'd had a missed (or silent) miscarriage, which happens when there are no signs or symptoms that the baby has passed away.

After my previous emergency scan with our second miscarriage I'd put in a special request for my husband to be present this time. The hospital did allow this and I'm so glad I had him with me. 

I remember the sonographer putting her hand on my leg and saying 'I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat''. This hit me the hardest, hearing the words “there's no heartbeat” when only a few weeks earlier we had seen it. I felt like my own heart would stop, like I was drowning and the world no longer made sense. 

Coping with loss at home

We were taken into another room where we were given an envelope of our scan photos and a memory box. Because the miscarriage hadn’t passed naturally, I was given options to consider. It was a very long process, and with COVID restrictions still in place I was able to have the medical management again and miscarry at home. 

Unfortunately I ended up having to go through 3 rounds of treatment and countless scans. I became weak from blood loss and was put on iron tablets. At this point I felt completely numb and dissociated from world around me. 

When the pregnancy did pass at home I was in complete shock. I'd been told it was unlikely I'd even see the pregnancy when it passed, but I was sat there on the floor with a pregnancy sack in my hands around the size of plum not knowing what I was supposed to do. 

My husband helped me to get ready and we took our baby to the hospital where they made the arrangements for us. 

I wish I’d spoken up more 

To the hospital I just felt like a number, just a statistic. I remember going into one of the many scans during the miscarriages and the sonographer hadn't even taken the time to read my notes. They came in, full of smiles, making small talk, and left the monitor screen where I would see it. 

At that moment I wished I'd spoken up and refused that scan. Looking back, I wish I’d spoken up more; but at the time I was just living in a complete daze, nothing felt real.

After my final scan I was again sent away with a leaflet on baby loss and just told to try again when we felt ready. I was told they would only investigate if I had 3 miscarriages in a row.

My advice to anyone going through something similar would be to try and talk about what you're going through, don't bottle it up and know that support is out there. I wish I'd known about Tommy's early in my journey and had somewhere to reach out for advice.

The anxiety of pregnancy after loss

When we felt ready to try again, I honestly didn’t know how much more I could give. Again I fell pregnant quickly but I instantly felt fear and anxiety. Every day I woke up and checked for blood, I'd do this several times a day. Then at 9 weeks, I saw it again.

I felt mentally and physically broken at this point. My husband took me straight to A&E and a scan was scheduled for the next day.

I felt mentally and physically broken. I remember thinking, no woman should have to experience this 3 times in a row to be heard.

Part of me thought if this happens again (if I have 3 miscarriages in row) maybe someone will listen to me; maybe we’ll get help instead of feeling dismissed. 

I remember thinking that no woman should have to experience this 3 times in a row to be heard; it's absolutely heart breaking. I don't think I slept at all that night, just hoping the bleeding wouldn't get worse and wanting to know what was happening. 

I was still preparing myself for the worst, and I remember this huge wave of relief when the sonographer showed me the screen and there was a strong heartbeat. But as soon as we left that fear was back. I knew how quickly things could change.

Welcoming our rainbow baby boy

It felt like the longest 9 months, like I was just holding my breath, afraid to move out of fear. But our second rainbow baby, a little boy called William arrived in January 2022. 

As soon as he arrived, I felt completely drained. I was so happy that he was finally here and safe in my arms but after months of anxiety I felt exhausted. It all just hit me, I'd hold both my babies extra tight and felt a mixture of happiness and sadness.

I look back today and wonder how we even got through it all. Now my children are that bit older, I still find there are days when the losses hit me out of nowhere.

My advice to anyone going through similar would be to be as open as you can, be honest with how you're feeling and let yourself cry and grieve. No matter how difficult it feels, you don't have to go through this alone.

Tommy’s Rainbow Challenge

I didn't find out about Tommy's until much later in my journey, but as soon as I found them and saw the incredible work they do I felt like I wanted to help where I can. 

Last year and again this year we are took part in the Tommy's Rainbow Challenge. I first saw the challenge on the Tommy's website and thought it would be a lovely thing to do as a family. A day to celebrate our rainbow babies, remember our losses and have a fun day out together.

This year we went to Wentworth Castle Gardens. My little girl had on her rainbow tutu and fairy wings, and they both went running off with their sticker sheets to find all the different colours. We built towers in the woods, played games, and rolled down hills. 

I want other people to know about Tommy's so hopefully more people will get to meet their rainbow babies and have a safe space where they can feel heard and supported.

I also take part in Baby Loss Awareness Week by lighting a candle during the Wave of Light. The last 2 years I've bought the Tommy’s candle from Plum & Ashby. 

As I light the candle, I take a little time to myself to reflect on our journey, remember our babies who we never got to hold and feel grateful for how far we have come. I hope that those still waiting will get to hold their rainbow babies very soon.