At 33, my partner and finally felt like we were with the right people to create a tiny human and like all excited couples we shared with our friends our decision. Everyone was so supportive but then the questions started; "any news yet?", "well...? Are you still trying?" The questions were relentless and after 8 months of trying we were starting to feel like it would never happen.
But then it happened! The positive test, the nausea, the dizziness, the unbelievable tiredness that you can only describe to another woman who knows! We were so excited and told everyone! EVERYONE! We couldn't stop ourselves! It was like Christmas Day and this was the best present ever!
The symptoms got worse, as they do, and we were blissfully unaware that this baby wasn't going to make it earth side. This baby didn't make it past 7 weeks and we broke. My partner kept me strong, he didn't complain about the house being a mess or the washing not being done, he just kept me going.
The pain was similar to period pain but worse and I went to A&E, mainly because I didn't know what to do and the midwives weren't answering the phone. A&E were useless. I sat there for over 5 hours miscarrying our baby before anyone saw me and even then there was no examination, just a booking into Early Pregnancy Unit 4 days later. 4 DAYS LATER!! The longest 4 days of my life but I didn't need an appointment to tell me what I already knew.
2 months later we were pregnant again. The symptoms were different this time, the nausea was different and I wasn't dizzy. I was hungry for carbs when before I'd been hungry for sweet/sour things. I decided this must mean this one was going to be OK. It must mean it'll be fine because I feel different.
We had our booking appointment and I got my yellow folder this time! This meant I was really pregnant and the folder would make it OK. Then I started getting the same symptoms as last time. A pain on one side, followed by the need to wear pantyliners and then my symptoms stopped.
Again I had an appointment arranged for Early Pregnancy Unit for a scan to investigate and the night before the scan the pain started. I already knew what this meant and the next morning all hope was lost. I woke up in a pool of blood. My partner had already left for work and I jumped in the car and took myself to the hospital.
Staff rushed me through and I lost my baby, I felt it leave my body, it felt hard and about the size of a fig. Luckily I didn't see it, I don't think I'd ever un-see it!
It took me a lot longer to come to terms with getting pregnant again. I had a meltdown when the first one would have been due and fell into a deep depression. I avoided anywhere that I might bump into pregnant women or babies. I lived in my pjs, ate in bed every night, I went to work but was distant and un-engaged.
It had to stop. I had to get my brain moving so I did all the things that scared me. I went to the supermarket, I met with friends and tolerated their baby stories and slowly I got out of the funk.
5 months after the second loss, we were pregnant again. Everyone had said that statistically there was no reason for this one to go wrong so we had an early scan at 8 weeks and saw the tiny heartbeat. It was the first one we'd seen! It was glorious! Magical! REAL! That little being was in my belly and was alive! It's such a happy feeling!
The night after the scan I woke up feeling really unwell. I had an overwhelming temperature and felt horribly sick like I had a bug and for about 20 mins I felt terrible. Then it cleared up, I went back to bed and woke up feeling fine. Maybe I'd eaten something this pregnancy didn't like, I shrugged it off.
4 days later the symptoms stopped. I'd already had a bleed the week before and that still hadn't completely cleared up but after seeing the heartbeat and investigations showed no obvious reason for the bleed I hadn't been worried. But my symptoms had stopped. STOPPED. GONE. I'd been here before...
A scan showed the baby hadn't grown since the last scan just over a week before. They said something must have happened between then and now and I thought yes! It did! I was horribly ill in the night so this must have had some significance.
I can now be referred for fertility tests. Now I've lost three babies. THREE BABIES!! All this in one year. But it's not just one year. It's nearly 2 years if you count the time it took for us to eventually get pregnant.
It shouldn't take so long to help women do the one thing humans are here to do. Policies need challenging and changing. I'm fit and healthy, I work out 5 times a week and I eat clean. I don't eat sugar and I keep salt intake low. But I can't do the one thing my body is supposed to be able to.
I'm speaking up. The more we speak up the more we can influence change. I hope this story helps others share and have the #misCourage to challenge and stay strong.
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