Instead of instant joy this time round I was overwhelmed with crippling fear.

I am so thankful I never gave up on life and I am slowly coming to terms still with what happened.

Heartbreaking stories. Devastating stories. The miscarriage story needs to change. That's why we've created Tommy's book of #misCOURAGE. Read this story now and help spread the word that miscarriage can no longer be ignored. Help us change the story to save babies' lives.


by Laura

May 2016

2013 was not a good year for me. After a tough few months with marital problems and plenty of stress I discovered I was pregnant. I had a daughter already and although I always wanted more babies this was not the time due to the problems in my life. However I was secretly overjoyed, and even though it was early being only 4 weeks gone I told my husband. Shock hit, but then happiness.

Three days later I had the most unbelievable pains and discovered I was bleeding. I knew instantly what this meant, and as my heart broke I picked myself up and told myself over and over that is wasn't meant to be and put the lid on the jar of emotions and carried on. I never even saw a doctor. Life went on and as no one knew what had happened with the miscarriage people just thought I was upset due to my marital problems and never asked. 

Four months passed and life had got better for my family. My Husband and I had worked through issues and were pulling together as a family for our daughter. I was beginning to feel happier. We soon became pregnant again and were overjoyed. I didn't think it I could lose another so happily told the family about our news. Weeks went by happily, I had my first midwife appointment and all was well, even though I had to have extra monitoring because I had pre-eclampsia with my daughter and was quite ill resulting in a post labour hospital stay.

I started planning nursery colours, names, daydreaming lots. 10 weeks passed and we had a holiday booked for the summer to Spain. My daughter (4 years old) couldn't wait for the seaside and pool and ice creams - neither could I. I had my first scan booked for the day after I returned 2 weeks later a perfect end to my holiday as I would be 12 weeks gone then. I took my midwife's number with me and my green notes just in case. 

Days previous to the holiday I had slight spotting which the midwife and I dismissed, as it wasn't much at all.

It's hard to judge through a phone call though. Then days later the clouds came over and happiness ended. I went to the toilet and there was blood everywhere. I hadn't noticed and I had black on and shorts. Red blood. Lots of it. My poor baby. Not again. My baby...

We went back to our villa where the pains begun. Luckily my in laws were with us in the villa and stayed behind with my daughter as we went to find a hospital or emergency room. I don't speak Spanish. And they did not speak English which made everything so much harder. And then there are insurance details to be exchanged before anything could happen. Which I had. We were taken to a waiting area where we were called to see the doctor who only spoke Spanish. I signed what had happened. Pointing to my belly and saying blood. He understood. He went away and told me to put a hospital gown on. I did and lay on a bed where he got the ultra sound gel out and speak it on my belly. No. No. This was not how it was supposed to go my voice in my head screamed.

 There was a mass on the screen. A tiny mass. And a clear outline of my baby peanut. No heartbeat. No heart beat. Nothing. He poked my belly and tried in vain to find something. He shook his head and there was screaming. It was me. My husband took my head into his chest as I cried and broke.  Now what. I am put up into a ward but left outside the room. A maternity ward. Babies are crying. Mothers are nursing and celebrating with their families. They left me outside the room to clean it of the cot and anything else baby related. I can understand why in hindsight. I just want to go home. I want my daughter. They gave me an injection and through very broken English told me I would be having operation. I can't describe how scared I was. I can not understand what Is happening. 20 minutes later after sitting in agony on the toilet and them checking what was coming out of me. Great clots. Pieces of my baby? I don't know. I'll never know. I don't want to know. I was taken to theatre. Meanwhile my scared husband was taken to a side room and told to stay. 

When I woke up, my husband was at my side and we just cried. Why has this happened to me. Why??

A doctor comes round. The whole process has taken 8 hours. I was told in slightly better English what had happened. My baby had died inside me. They had performed a D&C on me to remove the placenta and feotus. It had to go down on the paperwork as an abortion. I never got to see my baby and these are all the answers I ever got. I was released from hospital with a piece of paper in Spanish with the word abortion on it. 

We flew home the next day. As we went down the runway to take off I cried. A part of me and been left behind. I don't even know what happened to his tiny body and to this day I feel so guilty.

Back home. Life went on again. Appointments were cancelled and the emotional jar locked tightly away again. I had to. To function. To live. To survive. I had an appointment at the doctor's and wanted every test possible to find out why. After blood tests and swabs I discovered I had group B strep. It was nothing to do with what happened but for the future it was good to know. 

Four months later again unplanned. I got pregnant again. Instead of instant joy this time round I was overwhelmed with crippling fear.  I needn't have worried though, my pregnancy sailed by even though I had the midwife on speed dial and basically was wrapped in cotton wool for 9 months. My waters broke on Sunday 24th August 2014 at 1.30pm. I had made it full term. No problems and the relief set in. I finally breathed and in a way could wait for the labour to bring my beautiful boy into the world. He arrived safe, and well as the iv antibiotics were given during labour as I am a gbs carrier and infection can prove fatal for babies. A test that should be carried out as standard as it is so easy to protect you baby against during labour.

I am so thankful I never gave up on life and I am slowly coming to terms still with what happened. I will never forget, but at the end of the storm I have my beautiful rainbow son Ethan. And I have my guardian angel daughter Ava. I am complete. I am happy. 

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Please note that the opinions expressed by users in Tommy’s Book of #misCOURAGE are solely those of the user, who is unlikely to have had medical training. These opinions do not represent the opinions of Tommy’s and are not advice from Tommy's. Reading individual, real-life experiences can be a helpful resource, but it is never a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment from a qualified health care provider. We strongly advise readers not to take drugs that are not prescribed by your qualified healthcare provider. If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor, midwife or hospital immediately. Read full disclaimer


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