My husband knew but no one else. We hadn't told anyone about the pregnancy you see and I had this crazy idea that if I told people it would upset them. My mum's a born worrier and why concern her about something she knew nothing about? Ignorance is bliss, they say.
But I had a baby, a baby no one knows about. A baby I gave a name to, a name that has never been spoken.
I hadn't even had my first antenatal appointment when I began to bleed, and by the time I saw my GP it was too late. My baby, my hopes and dreams, were gone. He did a pregnancy test which was negative and it was all over. He didn't even record it in my notes, said it was so early it was 'barely there' in the first place and I didn't want a miscarriage 'hanging over me' through subsequent pregnancies did I?
I was too numb to argue. Today I would, today I'd fight, but nearly 30 years ago there was still a feeling that doctor knows best and so I let him have his way.
There is no record that my baby, my first child, my eldest, ever existed.
He made me feel it was unimportant and I was making a fuss about nothing. My husband immediately said 'well these things happen, we'll have better luck next time'. No one talked about miscarriage, it wasn't something you shared, you just got on with it.
I went on to have healthy, happy pregnancies and children that have grown to make me proud and give me grandchildren but all through the years I have never forgotten; will never forget.
I have a baby that no one knows about. I have a baby I carry in my heart.