Hour after hour I would go over everything in my head and trawl the internet for an answer

October 2016

Helen Andrews

At the moment everything feels like hard work. Last week I miscarried for the fifth time. Next week I should be holding my second child who I miscarried earlier this year. I didn’t realise life could be so cruel.

My story doesn’t differ from any other parent who has suffered a miscarriage. The pain, the guilt, the hurt and the disbelief that a miscarriage has happened has hit my family too many times.

My journey to become a mother hasn’t been plain sailing. Before I had my son, now aged 4, I had suffered 2 miscarriages and at the time was told it was just bad luck. My second miscarriage hit me and my husband hard, but back then we were young and continued to make plans for our future to get us through it.

Life moved on.

Nine weeks before our wedding day we discovered we were pregnant with Charlie and life felt exciting again. I remember that day well, my husband badgering me to take the test getting all excited and then when the result came through him jumping for joy around the bathroom.

Me? Well don’t get me wrong I was elated but also apprehensive whether this time we’d make it through to the end.

My pregnancy with Charlie in the first 12 weeks was memorable to say the least. I bled on my wedding day, I bled on my honeymoon and was seen by a consultant in the Maldives – I spent the whole time waiting for a bleed. But I didn’t lose him and in the April after we got married my son was born.

Life was good.

We have always wanted another child. As my husband and I are only children, we didn’t want our son to not have a sibling. I suppose we wanted the 2.4 family dream.

2015 came and we decided to start trying for our second child. Miscarriage number three struck us in the July and at the time it was just classified again by my doctors “as bad luck”. We moved on.

At the beginning of this year, my fourth miscarriage shook me to the core. This pregnancy was so different to carrying my son. I was sick day and night, my boobs hurt so much I wanted to rip them off and the moods were terrible (my husband can vouch for that).

“All positive signs” said the midwife at the 8 week booking in appointment. I started to feel less anxious and started to look forward for our September arrival.

Then there was the bleed.

I tried not to panic, “this has happened before” I told myself “remain positive”. It was a one off, nothing major and was more like spotting than a full on bleed. But I went to see my GP anyway and was referred for a scan two days later.

48 hours seems like an eternity when you are waiting for an answer on something like this. I don’t know how I continued to function, if I’m honest, but you just do.

The scan took place, and whilst I should have been 10 weeks, the baby stopped growing at 7 ½ weeks. I couldn’t look at the screen, tears streamed down my face and my head spun as I clung onto my husband. He watched me fall apart in the space of seconds. They did an internal scan to make sure. But the conclusion was still the same. I had lost another baby. 

Life went into a pretty dark place after that miscarriage. I took time off work and tried to get my head around why it had happened. Hour after hour I would go over everything in my head and trawl the internet for an answer. To help me move forward, my GP referred us to a consultant to start some investigations.

The results of which came back clear. They couldn’t find any reason why I should be miscarrying. And as the consultant told me “The creation of a baby is a very complex matter, every element has to be perfect for a baby to survive. As you already have a son, I don’t see a reason why you should be miscarrying. Continue to have sex 2/3 times a week and take folic acid, everything will be fine.”

I am not a violent person, but at that point I could have easily throttled the consultant.

Fast forwarding to now, I have just finished miscarrying for the fifth time. I’ve got my best fake smile on and I’m being referred for a second opinion. I’m getting there day-by-day.

The last few years has taught me so much but mainly the fact I shouldn’t shy away from saying “I’ve had a miscarriage” and to not give up hope. I’d like to think one day I may have an answer. But for now I intend on starting to make some happy memories with the precious family I have.