#misCOURAGE story, 17/05/2017, by anonymous
I found out for I was pregnant for the third time in three years in March. Initially I felt excited but also a teensy bit scared as well as I already have a one year old and a two year old.
We quickly got our heads around the idea and the real excitement and pregnancy symptoms began to kick in!
I have carried two babies to full term and the thought of miscarriage barely crossed my mind.
My eldest was extremely poorly when she was born and needed a life saving operation and consequently spent 6 weeks in NICU. I was therefore a little apprehensive the second time I became pregnant, but after number two was born completely healthy it gave me such a confidence boost that really accelerated my excitement for number three.
We began discussing (or rather debating) baby names and talked about all the new baby things we'd need since we'd gotten rid of all our newborn things after number two had outgrown them as more babies were not on the agenda!
Then, completely out of the blue at 8 weeks pregnant I had a small bleed accompanied by cramps. I rang my Early Pregnancy Unit and was booked in the following week for an ultrasound and blood tests to be on the safe side.
I wasn't even nervous before I went in, as I'd carried two babies full term before.
I was so wrongfully confident that everything would be OK. Sadly it wasn't. That scan showed a possible anembryonic pregnancy. My bloods confirmed it as my HCG levels had not doubled as they were supposed to.
It took a few days for it to really kick in. I was going to miscarry. I waited another week and had another scan. It was definite.
I cried more than I thought I would. I went home to let things happen "naturally" but decided on medical intervention at 11 weeks and 4 days pregnant.
The hardest thing, I thought, was the reaction from others. We'd told a handful of family and friends; and although well meaning, a couple said something along the lines of 'well at least you already have children'. Ouch. It doesn't really work like that.
I can't help but feel, maybe irrationally, as though my family is now 'incomplete' in some sense- even though we had never intended to have more than two.
But, on reflection that wasn't the hardest thing about miscarriage after children. The very hardest thing to me, and as heartbreaking as the miscarriage itself, was that my two year old sensed something was up and approached me.
She pat me on the belly and said "everything will be ok mummy, I love you".
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