#misCOURAGE story, 21/02/2017, by Jade
From the beginning of my pregnancy I was anxious.
I had bled continually since my positive test. My doctors were sure I had already miscarried, however my blood tests told a different story. It seemed my little bean was determined to stay with me.
Finally, at 7.5 weeks we saw our little Bean properly. Bean had a heartbeat, and was at the right size and looked so perfect to me and my husband.
I fell in love with the image on the screen there and then.
What I didn't know was that in just over three weeks, I would be back on the same bed and viewing the same screen and hearing the words 'I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat'. My beautiful Bean was there, but there was no flashing heartbeat on the screen.
That image will stay with me forever. I genuinely felt my heart break.
Everything after that happened so fast. I had to sign to cremate my baby, which was when I finally cried. I was booked in for surgical removal a few days later.
The night before, I remember how I felt; I cried because I didn't want them to take my baby. I felt protective for my beautiful baby, despite knowing all was already lost.
I was terrified of the operation too. Whilst being wheeled down to the operating theatre, the porter stopped a pregnant nurse and had a ten minute conversation about her baby shower whilst I sat in my bed... Smiling out of politeness and dying inside.
The popular chart song 'rockabye baby' played constantly whilst I sat waiting to have mine taken from me. The song haunts me now.
It's now been 10 weeks since my loss and in that time we conceived another however lost this one straight away. I don't know if it was that which triggered the huge depressive episode but it was like every thing had hit me at once.
I felt angry at people for not understanding. I dropped a stone in weight and turned my phone off, refusing to talk to anyone.
At this point in time, I'm still in the midst of grief. People want to put a time limit on your heartbreak, and tell you that you can try again.
It frustrates me that people don't understand that I wanted that baby. It's that baby I cry for. Not just any baby.
I'm trying to look after myself, I'm eating right and I'm meeting friends but I honestly can't remember the last time I genuinely felt happiness.
I apologise that this story isn't a happy ending yet, and I have no way to sugar coat the experience to you as a reader.
But I think that's the problem. As sufferers of miscarriage, we stay quiet, we nod and smile when someone tells you 'it wasn't meant to be'. We congratulate others on their pregnancies and we breezily say 'no' when strangers ask if we have children; all the while breaking our heart inwardly.
If we are to talk about miscarriage, we need to talk honestly about the uglier emotions that come with it. Having a miscarriage can make you a jealous and angry person.
Miscarriage changes you.
Miscarriage breaks you.
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