by Katie Louise Fraser
In March 2014 I found out I was pregnant for the first time, my partner and I were overjoyed! Two weeks later I started bleeding and a feeling of dread came over me. I was sent for a scan days later to be told the news I already knew in my heart. We were both devastated, I felt like I had failed. I was also even more devastated after telling my mum and my closest friends the amazing news, only to then have to share the most horrible news.
I remember someone saying to me "it obviously wasn't right, things happen for a reason"..."you're young, you can try again", "it just wasn't your time", even nurses telling me "it's so common for first time pregnancies."
I felt so angry to hear that! I deserved to be a mother, I knew that was all I wanted to do, and that was my baby! I might of only been 6 or 7 weeks pregnant, but I had already begun picturing the baby in my arms.
After crying for days and feeling low I picked myself up and got on with it, with the support of my partner. We decided to try again, the only thing that was keeping hope alive for me. Luckily a month later I fell pregnant again and after spending pretty much the whole pregnancy worrying, dreading waking up and finding blood, or going to a scan and getting told bad news, on the 13th of Feb 2015 we finally welcomed our perfect son Noah into the world! It was the best feeling ever, I loved being a mother. When he was 4 months old we decided to try again, we felt so blessed to have him that if we were to fall pregnant again it would be a double blessing.
I quickly fell pregnant but this time I wasn't so worried, my body had proved it could carry a baby, I knew I could do it. I thought I could really enjoy this pregnancy, doing normal pregnant things...
At 8 weeks however, I felt different. I had no symptoms of being pregnant, but thought 'wow I felt really normal this time, that can't be right!'. I put it at the back of my mind, thinking I was being paranoid! I attended my midwife appointment, my 12 week scan was booked and I started to get excited. We picked our double pram, I was always looking at nursery ideas. I felt more confident now, I knew what things I needed and knew my son would be a great big brother. Three days before my scan, I found spotting - my stomach churned!
I phoned the midwife and attended the early pregnancy unit the next day for a scan, but I knew, I just knew it was going to be bad news. I felt from the beginning that something wasn't right. A mother always knows, and as soon as that positive pregnancy test appears, you are a mother! We got called in, and I felt sick. This should be a happy moment, but when she looked at the screen, I could see that it wasn't like my son's 12-week scan. I knew then. She confirmed it. I didn't cry straight away, but I looked at my partner and I couldn't believe we were going through this again.
We had to wait in a room to be told our next steps. I just wanted to go home to hug my son and cry without anyone seeing me. I was told all these options, theatre, pills or natural. I couldn't even take it in. I went home to think about it. There was no way I could go through with getting my baby pulled out of me or medically removed by pills, I wanted nature to take it course and for it to happen when it was to happen. The day I was supposed to have my scan, the day I was supposed to tell the world we were having our second child, I woke up to terrible cramps and I knew this was it.
After hours of crying in pain, hot water bottles and loss of blood, there in the toilet, was what was supposed to be my baby.
I was devastated. I spent the next few days crying and having panic attacks. Again, our family was gutted about the news. But after a while everyone just seems to forget. It was only 3 and a half months ago this happened and all I get is "when are you having another one". All I think about is well there was supposed to be another one but no one seems to consider that I still grieve.
It's very misunderstood how much love you can have for something that is growing inside you, even if it's for 2 weeks or 3 months. It was supposed to be the baby in your arms, your son or daughter.
I walk by pregnant women and my heart crumbles, or I see a double pram and I look away. Myself and my partner don't talk about it much. But we know that it's hard sometimes. We have been through a lot together but I look at our son and feel so blessed to have him. He is our world. I hope we can have more children in the future, but right now we are working on healing, our son and giving my body some well deserved rest!
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