Story of #miscourage by Leah Jones,
In memory of my two boys for baby loss.
Myself and my husband Gavin tied the knot in April 2016, with plans to start making a family soon after.
We were so happy that for us conceiving was easy, falling pregnant straight away and feeling so excited that our family of 2 would soon become 3.
My first pregnancy was no fun to start, morning sickness which was more like every single minute of the day sickness, tiredness like no other and generally feeling washed out, however every day feeling like this was a day closer to meeting our precious little one.
One weekend in October, myself and my husband were getting ready for an evening out. It was the first day I felt well enough to wash my hair, put on my make up and gear up for a night out, not falling asleep before 6. Looking in the mirror I could see my beautiful bump growing by the day. I felt so happy, I often look at the photo and remember feeling so so excited.
After arriving home that evening I felt great, unaware of what I would wake up to.
The following day, something wasn't right, a pain circulating from my belly around to my back. 'Contractions... surely not' I thought. 'I'm 19 weeks pregnant, who gets contractions at this stage'. I rushed to the bathroom to find not only was there pain but bleeding. My stomach sunk, my heart beating so fast, that moment I new something was seriously wrong.
My husband and I went straight to the hospital, as I hadn't reached my 20 weeks I was seen on the gynaecology ward. Firstly they checked the heartbeat, babies heart still beating perfect. I have never been more happy to hear something so sweet and precious. Next they did the examination, then to follow with the words I still hear so vividly now. 'You in labour, your fully dilated, your membranes are bulging and there's nothing we can do but wait for baby to arrive'
'Baby to arrive?? No no, I'm only 19 weeks, my baby can't come now, it's too early, the baby won't survive'.
A week went by, the pain stopped for a few days, until my waters broke on the 3rd of November 2016 and baby Harri was born.
He was perfect, he was a baby, fingers, toes, eyes and nose. Even with the finest details, little creases on his fingers, finger and toe nails, the cutest nose ever.
I lay on the hospital bed with my son on my lap, thinking how can something so perfect be mine, but why did he have to come so early. 'What did I do wrong? I walked through my pregnancy following all the right signs, I never ate what I shouldn't I never drink what I shouldn't, so why me?'
The nurses were so kind, they chatted to me about Harri, even though Harri wasn't able to be saved they still ensured he was spoken about with such respect. He was our baby, he was perfect, he even looked like his daddy.
We were given a Memory Box from 'SiMBA', inside was Harri's hat, his hand and foot prints and so much more beautiful items to treasure.
I had to stay in hospital for a short time afterwards for a blood transfusion and for medication to treat the infection I had picked up. November 5th, usually my favourite time of year but not this year, as I watched the fireworks from the hospital window all I wanted was to still be pregnant, for Harri to still be growing inside me, but he wasn't, he was gone and I was no longer excited, I was destroyed.
Coming home from hospital was hard, so many side effects of the miscarriage just kept bringing back all the emotions and pain of what had happened. Tears would flow daily but I clung on to my memories in the box.
As time went on, the pain got no easier but I started to learn to cope better, after loosing my mum 3 years ago, thinking that Harri was with his nana gave me a little peace.
Myself and my husband decided to try for a second baby, never forgetting our beautiful Harri but longing for a baby in our arms.
This pregnancy felt different, the morning/day sickness was less, the tiredness felt more bearable but the anxiety had increased. I was so nervous that history would repeat itself.
I thought to myself I have got to start enjoying my pregnancy, we are such a lucky couple to conceive so easily, so I did just that. I enjoyed being pregnant, and once again my beautiful bump started growing.
Days went on and I reached 17 weeks but once again life just fell apart. Something wasn't right and straight to the hospital we went. Praying and praying and prayers history wouldn't repeat itself.
Lying on the bed, following the same procedure as last time and hearing the exact same words. This time I just lay and cried, please please try and do something, this can't happen a second time.
After trying to save Luca, nothing could be done. I had to await the arrival of a baby that was not strong enough to live. Days went by waiting for baby to arrive. Nights I would cry myself to sleep. Then on the 26th May baby Luca arrived, another beautiful baby boy.
So precious, just like his brother. I was walking this path once again.
Myself and my husband were heartbroken, two baby boys, too precious for earth, born sleeping. Both times we walked behind their tiny caskets, we listened to the wards the vicar spoke, two funerals for my two baby boys and all I can do is visit the memorial garden, some days I just can't see how it's fair.
Time has passed now and after lots of appointments I have been diagnosed with incompetent cervix, this meaning I am unable to carry a baby past my second trimester due to a weakness in my cervix.
If I fall pregnant again I will had a cerclarge placed on my cervix along with lots of medical interventions, however the thought of being pregnant after loss scares me.
Miscarriage whether it be early, late or a stillbirth is heartbreaking, something I myself and my husband won't ever get past.
Harri and Luca will forever be our shining stars and will forever be our sons.
I will forever speak out about miscarriage and will always say their names.
I am not just a statistic, I am 1 in 4 who has experienced this unbearable heartbreak.
Speak out about miscarriage and baby loss.
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