#misCOURAGE story, 29/03/2017, by anonymous
My story began on Valentine's Day 2016. Not for any romantic reason, I just decided not to take the pill that day. Or ever again.
Fast forward to August 2016 I noticed my park run times were down for no apparent reason. I decided to do the test.
Two lines came up immediately. I tried another just to be sure and the same result. I was pregnant!
My husband was over the moon although the dates were inconvenient falling in lambing time. No matter, we'll figure it out. He even gave the baby a name. Not a proper one, just something to refer to it by.
A few weeks later I there was some blood. Not much but blood all the same. It happened a few times more so I went to the doctor. He took my hcg levels over a couple of days. They looked great he said. But the blood was concerning. Off to early pregnancy unit for a scan.
My husband was away on a course so I went to the appointment myself.
As soon as the sonographer put the ultra sound on I could see from her face there were issues.
She was doing a funny thing with her eyes too. Looks like an anembryonic pregnancy but she wanted to "go internal" to double check.
Two trips to the toilet later to empty by bladder and the internal scan brought no better news. Come back in a week, she said, so we can scan again just to be sure.
The following week was a blur and I returned for the follow up scan. No change. What do you want to do? I wanted it out ASAP and the nightmare to be over. I was booked in for surgical management after the weekend.
I planted over 100 bulbs in the garden to take my mind off things.
My mother came down and ferried me back and fore to the hospital as my husband was still away. The process was straightforward and fairly painless.
The hospital wanted to know what we wanted to do with the remains.
My husband wanted to at least give him a send off and religious blessing. After meetings with the undertaker and the minister a cremation was booked. The undertaker refused to let us pay.
I ordered flowers for the coffin standing in the middle of the local garden centre trying to explain to a florist what colours I wanted. Cream hydrangeas with some blues. I still had the white heather from my wedding bouquet so I asked her to include that too.
The cremation was strange. Me, my husband, my mother and two ministers from our church plus a couple of undertakers. The most surreal thing was the board outside the crematorium. It displayed the full name we had given him preceded with Mr.
The service was brief but comforting.
I collected the ashes a week later. "NVF6" it said on the back of the box. Presumably they meant "non-viable fetus". I put the ashes in the spare room cupboard. I don't feel like letting them go as yet.
It's now March 2016. The bulbs I planted are coming up in random places in the garden. It's a riot of colour.
I have had two more losses. The second was a suspected ectopic over Christmas resulting in numerous trips to the local hospital including on Christmas and New Year's Day. Thankfully I had a terrible cold so I blamed my lack of festive spirit on that.
The third was last week. The Doctor has booked us both in for blood tests.
I currently feel utter despair. I know we will almost certainly try again but I can't imagine myself ever having a child.
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