#misCOURAGE story, 27/04/2017, by anonymous
I really don’t know how to start my story of my miscarriage, as although it has been a few months, and as everyone tells me, I was only a few weeks, I still feel the void every day.
People don’t seem to understand that although I never met my baby, held my baby, I had to endure a week of agony and the knowing that my baby, the one thing a mother would protect and give anything for, was dying and leaving me and there was nothing I could do about it.
My partner had to sit there and watch me cry, watch me pass out from pain, and there was nothing that we could do about it.
It was the most hopeless situation I have ever been in, and I think about it every day.
When I found out I was pregnant, it wasn’t exactly the ideal scenario either, but the way me and my partner are and our relationship, we handle things with a bit of humour.
I had swapped my contraception, as I felt my body had changed and wasn’t working well the contraception I had been using for years.
All was good with the injection, and the week before I was due to go back and have another one done, I had this niggling feeling; something wasn’t right, towards my bladder area.
I didn’t even think about what I was doing at the time, I just reached for a test (due to my job we always have pregnancy tests in the office) and sure enough, there was two pink lines. Two pink lines!
I have something else I need to think about now, no skipping meals because I’m too busy, no late nights at the office running around like a mental person, I was no longer number one anymore.
When I got home later that evening, my partner had given me a pen, one of them ones with a highlighter on the end, because I was doing an online course, and he looked so pleased with himself for finding this pen for me.
I reciprocated the gift of the pen by handing him that white stick with the two pink lines, and wow, for someone who has an olive skin tone and dark complexion, he looked paler than I did!
He thought I was joking; he even took the test apart to see if I had painted the line on there, but sure enough he was ecstatic when it sank in after two hours that we were going to have a baby!
I told my best friend, who also said that a close friend had found out she was pregnant the same day, how amazing is this!
Things went along swimmingly for two months, I had my booking in appointment, folic acid became the first thing I’d do in the morning.
The night before I lost my baby, my partner woke me up in the night, telling me I had been crying in my sleep – I guess subconsciously I knew before it happened.
I went to work as normal, and again I started to experience the niggling, stretching sensation around my bladder area, more pronounced and it just didn’t seem right. I went to the toilet as usual and there it was I was bleeding.
I booked an emergency appointment with my GP and my partner was waiting at the house when I got home.
We went to the doctors and I was treated with contempt to a degree; the GP made it clear I was wasting her time and the words she said to me, I will always remember “Well, if you are miscarrying, what do you expect me to do about it?”
I meekly asked if there was anything that could be done, as now I was extremely embarrassed because I was wasting their time, as well as sitting there in pain and upset, should I be feeling like this?
The GP has made it as though it’s not a big deal, and I overreacting?
I wanted to go home there and then and just cuddle under the duvet, my partner had other ideas. After a 20 minute rant at the GP and the GP stating, “I could possibly book you in for an early scan, but then you need to think if you are miscarrying, which is most likely, do you really need to waste the sonographer’s time?”
I numbed completely. The next few hours were a blur, all of a sudden I was at the hospital, having blood tests done and speaking with a gynaecologist, who was extremely patient and kind, I kept thinking to myself to try and smile, but I couldn’t.
At this point I was grey; I looked in the bathroom mirror at the hospital and didn’t recognise the person looking back. No make-up. My hair a mess. Eyes bloodshot from crying.
I had my scan, no heartbeat. it was just a case of waiting. I had to inform my boss that I was miscarrying which was awkward when I hadn’t even told them I was pregnant.
People came to the house with chocolate and flowers, I didn’t want to see anyone, speak to anyone, and I made it perfectly clear.
The first time I’ve not been in control of a situation and I was falling apart at the seams.
I kept hoping it was a horrible dream, but the pain was something out of this world. The fourth night, I passed out on the toilet from the pain. Again I was back in hospital, in agony.
I waited four hours before any pain relief would be given, and I am almost positive that was only given to me because I screamed at the top of my lungs in A&E.
I was at rock bottom. My baby was gone. I couldn’t protect my baby and stop this from happening. I couldn’t console my partner. I couldn’t think of any end to this.
Its true that you don’t forget about a miscarriage, no matter at what stage. You live with it. I desperately want to have a baby now, but every month since I have had no success, I feel as though something is wrong with me.
I don’t tell my partner how useless I’m feeling, I don’t tell anyone how I feel. All of my friends have announced they are expecting, and everyone says “you’ll be next”, and I will be.
My miscarriage has shown me that I am a mother, although it has not happened yet, this is what I am going to be, whether it be natural conception or adoption, months or years down the line, I will be a mother.
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