After what can only be described as an 18 month emotional rollercoaster things looked like they were about to turn around…
I couldn’t quite describe the feeling but somehow I felt different. I couldn’t be though, could I? I was late but we’d only tried once so I couldn’t be… Some how deep down I had a feeling I might be. We decided to get a test.
Moments after getting back home there it was, the reading that we never could have hoped to imagine… we were pregnant!
A mixture of emotions ran through me; excitements, shock, nerves, pure happiness, joy. Maybe this was a sign. We’d only tried once but after all the heartache we had to endure over the years, perhaps just perhaps this was our time, something was finally going right, something so miraculous. I’d never felt happier or more content.
Suddenly everything was going to be all right – a new chapter, a new beginning, new found happiness. But… we mustn’t get too carried away I kept reminding myself. It was still very early days, anything could happen, best not tempt fate, we’ve had enough bad luck.
Instantly my outlook changed. I wanted this baby more than anything. I had a new found reason to live. Everything I did from now on was for the baby. I literally couldn’t wait. 9 months seemed such a long time away.
I certainly knew I was pregnant those first couple of months. My hormones were all over the place; I was so emotional over anything, waking before 4 every morning feeling so sick. But I wouldn’t swap it for anything. One more month to go and hopefully I would start to feel better. It was all worth it anyway. I tried not to complain.
The hardest part was keeping it quiet. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops! On my birthday we decided to tell my Dad. Then a couple of weeks later I told some of my close friends. I was going on a hen weekend and it was going to be difficult to keep my pregnancy a secret with not drinking, they’d known me for years I was sure they would guess.
Everyone was so excited. It was amazing but it was still early days so their excitement scared me a little, what if something happened?
The hen weekend started like any other day. That Saturday I woke early feeling really sick. I was used to it now though. The girls were great at recommending all sorts of remedies for the sickness so much so that on the Sunday I woke without any. Those remedies really must have worked I thought. Or had they?
Strangely I felt a little different but I told myself it had been a long weekend so I’m sure everything was going to be fine. Monday at work and I felt off. Not ill, just not quite right. In the ladies I noticed a couple of spots of blood. They were small though. I’m sure everything would be fine I tried to convince myself. I’d keep a close eye on it.
That evening I started getting the most horrible painful cramps. Perhaps it was my IBS playing up I thought, although deep down I knew it wasn’t. I went up to the bathroom and saw blood, much more than before. I knew.
My partner tried to convince me that everything was going to be fine. A lot of people bleed during pregnancy and are fine. Yes they do but I knew. I was devastated, inconsolable.
I tried to calm myself down but that night while my partner slept the pain got worse as did the blood. It was literally pouring down my legs and the contractions were so strong. I knew but what could I do. I knew.
By morning I called the midwife who was nothing short of rude. “A lot of people experience pain and blood loss and the baby is fine I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about!” she said in a short curt sharp voice. She said the hospital wouldn’t be able to see me if I was bleeding heavily anyway, best to wait till the blood calmed down in a couple of days.
A COUPLE OF DAYS!!
Unless the bleeding got so heavy and poured down my legs then I should get to the hospital straight away. I told her it was already that bad. Oh! she said. Well just wait a few days I’m sure it’s fine! A FEW DAYS!
Never had I felt so alone. I knew it wasn’t ok but I also knew it was too late. I was traumatised, inconsolable.
The next day I phoned the baby centre again, this time the lady was so much more helpful, more understanding. Why couldn’t I have spoken to her yesterday! She did everything she could to get me a scan.
Meanwhile I was still bleeding heavily and in a lot of pain. My partner went to the shop to get me heavy duty pads. It looked like I was wearing a nappy! But normal pads just didn’t do the job.
All of a sudden the pain became even more unbearable. I needed some painkillers and now! My partner rushed to the supermarket to get some. By the time he got back it was too late.
The pain had got so bad and the bleeding felt different, heavier, weightier. I heard a heavy plop in the water. I knew. I looked down and there was my baby. It was clearly a foetus.
Oh god I needed to get my baby out. I did. My partner looked; yes it was definitely the baby. He buried our baby’s foetus minutes later. We were instantly grieving.
Afterwards, the pain still came in waves and the bleeding, well the bleeding just didn’t stop.
The next day was my scan. It seemed pointless. I clearly wasn’t pregnant any more but it needed to be done. Once at the ward we walked past new Mums with their brand new babies and sat amongst expectant Mums whilst waiting for our fateful scan.
The rawness of sitting there knowing we’d lost our baby surrounded by new and expectant Mums was horrific. It shouldn’t be like this I thought.
Once with the consultant it was clear from the internal scan that there was no baby. “We can’t see any signs of a foetus, of being pregnant. How many weeks did you say you were!?” “Are you sure you were definitely pregnant!?” Yes! How insensitive were these questions! I’d told them about the blood, the clots etc. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what’s happened does it!?
It was so clinical, just an every day occurrence to them. There was no thought, no care, no understanding, no support. All of my knowledge was gained from the internet. Without it I’m not sure how I would have coped.
I had to be monitored every day for a week or so and then every couple of days. My pregnancy hormones weren’t going down. I had a temperature, felt flu-like, was so tired and the bleeding was relentless. So much so that my partner had to watch over me the entire weekend in case of a medical emergency. I was literally drained, of energy, of colour, of anything.
The worst part was that I felt so alone. My partner tried to be strong for me but I needed to talk about it. I couldn’t just move on no matter how much I tried. No-one came to see us, no-one looked after us. We were a broken mess, grieving for the loss of our baby on our own.
Six weeks of heavy bleeding ensued. When would this stop? Please make this stop! A constant reminder that I had lost our baby.
6 months on and the rawness is still there. In a few weeks our baby would have been here. No one remembers but we have each other. We’re stronger than ever.
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