After so many negative pregnancy tests, when that second line came up, my husband and I just sat staring at each other. Then laughing and jumping around like idiots. There may have been a few swear words.
Not only were we pregnant, we’d done it all by ourselves - a totally natural baby. My grandad had died a couple of weeks before … I was utterly convinced he’d left us this gift.
To say everyone was delighted was an understatement. Our parents, brothers and sisters and friends - every single one of them was over the moon.
I remember a friend saying to me: “You’re one of those couples people read about. You give up hope and along comes a baby.”
So, for a couple of weeks we plodded about our business with smug smiles on our faces, we were getting our baby.
Due to being at high risk of having an ectopic, we had to have blood tests and scans from very early on. I think I was six weeks at the first scan, they couldn’t see anything, but we were reassured it was just a bit early as the bloods indicated a totally normal pregnancy. Phew.
Then I started spotting. Another scan at seven weeks. They could see the sac but no baby. It’s still too early, they said, bloods are all good. Spotting is normal.
At eight weeks I started bleeding - another scan - sac was growing but still no baby.
You’re just on the cusp they said, come back in a week.
We couldn’t go back in a week as we’d booked a lovely holiday after the last round of IVF - two weeks in the sun to totally relax.
What a holiday. On reflection, it was two weeks of utter hell. I was bleeding, we couldn’t relax, emotions were so up and down. Yes we had a nice time, but it wasn’t the break we needed and deserved. If I’m honest, by this point I knew things weren’t right.
We arrived home from holiday and at ten weeks, a miscarriage was confirmed.
We couldn’t believe it. We were sent home with some pills to pass everything … nothing happened.
Five days later I’d had enough waiting and went for yet another scan. It was still there. I opted for a D&C. That happened two days later, and then it was all over. I wasn’t pregnant anymore.
I may only have been ten weeks pregnant, but after all we’d been through, the moment we got those two lines we started imagining our baby, looking at prams, talking about how we’d decorate the nursery.
Nothing could’ve prepared us for what happened. That was 4.5 months ago. I should be doing Christmas with my 30 week bump.
It still doesn’t hurt any less and some days it feels like it might suck us under. But it doesn’t, and inevitably we pick ourselves up and just get on with it.
But it just hits you from nowhere. I walked into a toilet last week in a restaurant, smack bang into a pregnant lady. It almost ruined my day. I see friends get pregnant and I resent them.
And of course, you have to deal with the endless tirade of people saying it just wasn’t meant to be, relax and it will happen.
I’m clever enough to know that people have been through an AWFUL lot worse than we have. And I’m lucky enough to know I have a wonderful husband, and that we’ll be ok no matter what.
But still, infertility combined with a miracle baby then a miscarriage - some days it feels too much to take.
Sometimes I get upset my body can’t do what it’s meant to do. I feel guilty that I’m the one with the infertility problem.
I don’t mean to sound negative by the way, I have great days, times when I don’t think about it. I don’t want to be defined by infertility and I don’t want to become one of those bitter and twisted people. If we can’t have children, we’ll simply have to deal with it.
But we’re not giving up yet. We’re getting ready for another round of IVF, and we have four lovely frozen embryos waiting on us. We mustn’t let the panic take over.
You know what helps though? Being able to talk about it. The more people I speak to, the more I realise miscarriage is such a common thing.
Of course it doesn’t make it better, but it helps to know you’re not alone.
That’s why I’m supporting this campaign. #misCOURAGE - share your story.
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