This time last year

by Anonymous

Exactly this time last year my world started to crash around me. After me and my husband had got married in the November we decided to try for a baby.

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.

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Exactly this time last year my world started to crash around me. After me and my husband had got married in the November we decided to try for a baby. In the February I took a test and those pink lines I had been waiting for appeared. That was it we were pregnant. I waited a few weeks and then because of my job (a nurse) I had to tell people at work as there were certain things I couldn't do and certain patients I couldn't care for.

I reached the first milestone at 8 weeks and we saw the midwife, things started to become real, I was being seen by a midwife- someone who cares for pregnant people- me, pregnant! I knew the risk of miscarriage, I knew it could happen to me but the further I got into the pregnancy the more I started to believe it was happening. 9 weeks, 10 weeks, 11 weeks...eeek only a week until my scan, until that 'safe zone'!

I remember being on a night shift and saying to one of my colleagues "I've got a feeling there's something not right, that the baby's not got a heartbeat"

I don't know why I said that, I don't know what made me think it and of course she said "don't be silly, I'm sure it's fine" and  I thought yeah I'm just being silly, come on, pull yourself together.

Then 1st May, a bank holiday weekend (typical!) I had some spotting, that's it onto Google, ok it could be nothing, sit and wait, sit and wait. The Tuesday arrived and still spotting very small amounts.

We rang the early pregnancy unit. They booked me an ultrasound for the 6th May. I would be 11 weeks and 3 days pregnant, only a few days before my planned scan. I arrived at the scan, mixed emotions, we might get to see our baby today...then again we might not.

We got called in, she started scanning, looking at wobbly lines on the screen, I couldn't see anything baby shaped. The sonographer looked at me, she said there was a foetal pole and a sac but no heartbeat. She explained that what she could see was a gestation of 5-6 weeks pregnant, either my dates were out or I would be likely to suffer a miscarriage.

She sent me round to the gynae ward to be seen by one of the doctors. We waited for ages. I was sure of my dates, positive. I knew I was going to miscarry, if I wasn't already. The doctor called me in, she explained exactly what the sonographer said. I told her I'm sure of my dates, I'm definitely not out by that much I am really sure so I guess I'm going to miscarry, she kept saying "don't lose hope, you never know,, we will scan again in a week and see if it's grown".

I came away feeling angry, I know I'm right, why tell me not to lose hope, that's silly, surely I'm better off loosing hope then if by some miracle I don't miscarry I'd be better off than holding on to false hope.

We went home and I sat numb wondering what would happen next. When would it happen. They didn't give us any information on what to expect with a miscarriage, how much blood is normal to lose. Two days passed, days that I don't remember, spent in a daze, then the evening of the 8th May the pain began.

There were crippling period type pains coming in waves.

I sat on the sofa with a hot water bottle. I felt a gush and ran to the toilet, blood poured out of me, I jumped in the shower as it poured down my legs. The pain was awful, I stood in the shower for at least 15 minutes and with no sign of it easing off and unable to get out of the shower due to the amount pouring out, I shouted for my husband.

I was crying with the pain, clots the size of golf balls coming out, I had to push them down the plug hole (a thought that makes me feel sick now- my baby, down the plug hole), the pain would ease for a few minutes then cramping again.

"I don't know what to do, I can't get out of the shower" my husband frantically on google looking for help with how much blood is normal to loose, no help there. "I'll ring 111 for advice" he said as I sat down in the bath feeling drained and crying, pointing the shower down there with the bright red bath.

They said on the phone to call an ambulance. No way, I wasn't having that, I am not having them come out when there is nothing they can do, if I've got to go to hospital we will get ourselves there. My husband was amazing, constantly reassuring me that it was going to be ok.

He rang the gynae ward, they asked how many pads I was getting through. I don't know- I can't get out of the shower I would flood the floor, I couldn't use pads I shouted to him, I would get through one a minute!

I felt weak, started feeling dizzy and light headed, laying in the bath shivering.

He hung up, "We've got to go to A&E, they've got a bed for you in gynae but we've got to go via A&E, we need to get you out of the bath". He grabbed a red towel and helped me stand out of the bath, he put towels on the bed and sat me down, the pain came worse than ever. I was hunched over, couldn't move, crying, then I felt it, I clenched my legs together and ran to the bathroom, something dropped on the floor, it was huge, the size of a large satsuma.

All I kept saying was "I'm sorry I'm gross, you shouldn't be seeing this" to my husband. He got me some clothes and I pulled them on, covering them in blood as I pulled the trousers up, feeling weaker than ever. He helped me into the car, a seat lined with a bin bag and towel. We drove to a&e, me hunched over gritting my teeth with the cramps. I waddled into A and they took me to a side room, I led on a trolley and they took my bloods and gave me some morphine.

Morphine made the world a slightly better place. Apparently I was talking gibberish and not making much sense. They took me up to the gynae ward and as I got off the trolley I remember seeing the pool of blood left behind. I shuffled onto an examination bed, the doctor asked me to remove my blood soaked bottoms so she could examine me. I stood up and as I removed my trousers more clots fell out of me "I'm really sorry".

I got moved to a room around 3 in the morning, they gave me some nappy sized maternity pads and after some more pain killers I managed to get some sleep. The pain had eased when I woke up, and so had the bleeding. It turned out that the worst had happened at home, but I didn't know that. The following day they examined me again, the doctor said my uterus still felt quite bulky so they needed to order an ultrasound to see if there was still pregnancy tissue inside.

I broke down when the doctors left, more?! How can there possibly be more, I can't go through all that again. My husband had obviously informed some of the close family that knew about the pregnancy as I'd started getting a few messages to see how I was. I don't think anyone knows the right thing to say, but that didn't bother me too much, at least they were there, and they cared.

I'd messaged my best friend from work and told her, she popped to see me before she started work, I told her to tell everyone. I didn't want that job, I wanted people to know already. It wasn't a secret that I was pregnant so it couldn't be a secret that I'd miscarried, and I wouldn't have wanted it to be. I needed them to be there for me, I don't know if I'd have coped if I had to tell them I was pregnant and now I wasn't all in the same breath.

The ultrasound didn't happen that day, but the following day before my husband had arrived they took me down for the scan. The same as before but this time knowing I wouldn't see my baby. She scanned for a minute and said the egg sac has gone but there is still some pregnancy tissue to pass. I burst into tears "how much? I can't take much more of this" and she was lovely, she placed a hand on my shoulder and it was the first member of staff that seemed to appreciate I was going through a really difficult time.

She explained it wasn't much more left and that it would probably be more of a heavy period. That re-assured me. I can cope with that. The sonographer explained that sometimes what happens is the baby dies early called a missed miscarriage (around 6 weeks in my case) and you can bleed into your uterus until your uterus starts to contract and expel it, which explains why there was so much blood to loose as I had probably been bleeding into my uterus for nearly 6 more weeks before anything happened.

I got discharged from hospital with my first ever sick note and 2 pages of "what to expect from a miscarriage". I was relieved to be going home. I read the discharge paperwork. It made me feel so frustrated. It listed all of the feelings and symptoms I'd been feeling the last 2 days in hospital that I didn't know whether were normal or not. I could have done with this on admission not on discharge!

Over the next week I built my strength back up, physically started feeling normal again. With the help of some iron rich meals cooked by the husband too. Had ups and downs emotionally but came to terms with the fact that it wasn't meant to be this time and we would try again. It helped me to think that there was probably something wrong with it, it could have been born with no quality of life or severe disabilities so nature had taken its course, I'd rather that than my baby suffer.

It also helped me to think it wasn't a baby, I know that's not how everyone thinks and it was my baby, or at least it was going to be but I try not to think of it like that.

Things started getting back to normal and I was due to go back to work. Then my husband broke it to me...he had changed his mind about ever wanting children. Ouch. There were other factors too but we have since separated. I am now single. Alone and childless. Not knowing whether I will ever have that chance again to experience pregnancy (hopefully not pregnancy loss), birth and motherhood. And if I do, I will deal with what is dealt to me again like I have this time.

Because there are always people who have it worse than me. I believe everything happens for a reason, I haven't found my reason yet, but let's hope I do. And If your reading this, I hope you find yours too.

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Disclaimer

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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