by Kimberly Jones
I was 19 when I had my first miscarriage. Me and my partner had been together three years and bought our own home. We tried for 12 months to get pregnant and just when we were going to go to the GP's I got the long awaited two lines!
Excited and happy I told my work and a few friends, my family. Two weeks later at work , I went to the toilet and there it was, bright red blood.
I calmly cleaned myself, washed my hands, went out and told my friend I was bleeding. She went to tell my manager (who was pregnant herself). I ended up getting an ambulance, my partner, mum and Aunty met me at the hospital.
I was initially told I wasn't pregnant by a male nurse only to have a female nurse come back over and say there were two lines he just didn't see it.
I asked to see the test and sure enough there were two lines but they were faint. I got to stay in hospital, bleeding horrifically and had a scan the next morning at 9am to be told I'd had a complete miscarriage.
I kept myself together for the long walk back to my bed, where I then broke down. That continued for about 6 months, I couldn't work for the huge amount of guilt and sadness I felt.
I fell pregnant again that year and had the most horrific pregnancy, full of anxiety and illness not to mention pain from SPD.
I was 4 days overdue when I gave birth to a whopping 10lb 12oz baby boy by emergency C-Section.
Unfortunately I suffered quite bad post natal depression, medication, counselling 1:1 and 2:1 at times, and group therapy helped me through.
Five years later, in 2012, I was now married to my partner and had just qualified as a mental health nurse when we decided to try again.
We fell pregnant fairly quickly and got an early scan at the EPAU. There was our baby at 6 weeks gestation, heart beating away wonderfully. We were so happy, I told my work and told a few friends.
We were planning everything, and I felt really good about the pregnancy. I suffered with morning sickness and anxiety, but that was to be expected.
At our 8 week scan as I lay on the bed and the sonographer scanned my belly, she turned to me and said "I'm going to need you to go to the toilet and empty your bladder, I can't find a heartbeat so I'm going to try the vaginal scan" it was at that point that I knew what had happened.
But I smiled I said ok! Wiped off the gel and went to the toilet.
I looked at my belly and said "please please not again, this isn't supposed to happen". Sure enough I went back and there was no heartbeat.
My baby was measuring 7 weeks and 6 days and had died the day before, I just said "this can't be happening again".
I sat on the chair in the scan room and refused to leave. I went in that room, happy and pregnant, I didn't want to leave it, sad and broken with a baby dead inside of me.
My Early Pregnancy Nurse came in and sat with me and my husband for what seemed like a lifetime and finally talked me round.
I decided to have another scan over after the weekend as I didn't want to believe it. I went about my weekend, took my son to a party went for breakfast with my friend. Ignoring the infrequent contractions I was having
On Monday, I went for another scan, my baby had died, my baby had also changed on the screen and the process of another miscarriage had started. I decided on a D&C the day after.
I was put to sleep in the theatre room crying, and I apparently continued to cry the whole way through and I woke up crying. I had 2 weeks off work which were unpaid, because there is no leave for when you lose a baby before 27 weeks
I was hurt, upset, guilty, worthless and now worried about money being two weeks down on wages.
I had to cope with the usual comments, "better it happen now than later on", "at least you have your son", the most surprising comment I received was "well, it was probably for the best" at that point I got up and left the room. How can the death of my baby be for the best?? I was numb.
Two months later I fell pregnant again but instead of feeling excited I was filled with dread and anxiety. I felt guilt for replacing my other babies who I couldn't carry. The question "am I going to meet this baby?" filled my head every day!
At 5 weeks and 5 days, I had a scan that showed a perfect baby, all looked good.
Three days later, I nip to the toilet, and am met with bright red blood.... AGAIN! Another trip to A&E where they send me home and tell me to ring the EPAU in the morning.
That night I passed my baby, it hurt, it was so so painful, it was like labour. It was the worst miscarriage of all writing about it reminds me of how little I have dealt with it.
I feel guilty for not mourning my baby like I did the other two, the reason being, it is simply too hard.
I physically cannot bring myself to open up how much I am still affected and saddened by the death of my third baby. I went to the hospital the next day and had another load of blood tests but we had already decided that we didn't want to try again. We didn't want the heartache.
They say miscarriages happens every 1 in 4 pregnancies, for me and my family, a baby happened 1 in 4 pregnancies.
We were spoken to with love, respect, empathy by our EPAU nurses. They told us to try again as they can't send you for testing if your three miscarriages haven't been back to back. So if you try again you will end up with one of 2 things, a baby or an answer!
After a few weeks I still hadn't dealt with my miscarriage. I was angry and I was oddly determined; I wanted a baby and sure enough we tried again.
Two months later I was pregnant again, but anxious. I had a blood test at 4 weeks and was on medication.
I ended up being signed off work at 8 weeks due to hyperemesis Gravidarum, this continued and I was under very close watch throughout my pregnancy. I had two weekly scans throughout my pregnancy. I was on crutches at 20 weeks as I was diagnosed with PGP and SPD. I breathed a sigh if relief at the end if every day as just getting through it was a task.
My pregnancy team were amazing, my consultant was amazing, the radiographers all knew me by name now and were always prepared
I would have a panic attack every time I went into the scan room and cried before I would even lie on the couch!
My little girl was born at 37 weeks and 4 days. I was ill with anxiety but she was here and safe.
I had a VBAC but then I had to go to theatre. Life was better, people kept saying that we were complete now as we had 1 of each? Was my family complete? In some ways it was/is, but in others it would never be complete.
I've carried 5 babies, they were mine, they were wanted, loved and a part of me.
I've always been really open about my miscarriages. I wouldn't be who I am now if they hadn't happened. It is 3 years to the day of having my third and final miscarriage confirmed.
I remember every date, I grieve everyday.
Today I'm writing to tell about my three wonderful babies who I loved but who I never got to meet.
They made me who I am today.
Never in my arms, always in my heart my three angel babies Mackenzie, Frankie and Morgan!
Sending all my love to everybody affected by miscarriage.
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