#misCOURAGE, 09/06/2017, by Melanie
At work today I've had to write the date probably at least 20 times and each time I felt my heart sink and I've had to hold back the tears as they stung the back of my eyes.
Today is my amazing nieces 4th birthday. Today is the 2 year anniversary of our 1st family holiday abroad and the memories should make me smile but if i do I feel guilty.
Because today is the day last year we had it confirmed we were having our second miscarriage and my shattered heart lay in pieces on the floor as the sonographer ushered us out to the room no expectant parents hope to see in the EPU.
Wind back to Oct 2013, my partner and I excitedly decided we wanted to complete our family with a sibling for our then 14 month old.
We were naive and I assumed we would have a baby by the next autumn if we got pregnant as quickly as we had with our son.
17 months and many fertility tests later in Feb 2015 we struck gold. I showed my 2 year old the 2 lines and danced round the house with him all day til daddy came home. Our happy ever after was really happening.
On 27 March 2015 we found out at 11 weeks+3 our baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks but we were sent home to come back a week later "in case our dates were wrong" - that night I started bleeding and curled up in a ball.
The next night the contractions came and I screamed silently into my pillow with my partner holding me, the pain was like no other I've ever experienced and then it all happened.
The sac, the baby, my son's sister (I chose a name for our baby later but have never said it out loud, not even to my partner), our future all fell down the toilet and I screamed at my partner not to flush our baby away.
I screamed for a very long time.
I passed many more clots and the bleeding lasted 3 weeks and it changed me. It changed everything but what hurts most is my son lost the mummy he once knew who was so full of fun, hope and energy. I grieve for his loss too.
Today, last year when we found out our 2nd baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks I insisted I have a D&C the next day - I was to be a bridesmaid at my sisters wedding 4 days later and was not risking experiencing hell like that again.
The D&C was far less traumatic but the stress caused my body to react with an angry red rash all over my body and it just felt so cruel.
My sisters wedding was beautiful and I wouldn't have missed it for the world but I feel sad that all I see when I see pictures of myself that day is sadness, emptiness and a tortured heart and it makes me feel so guilty for bringing sadness to her day.
After our 2nd loss in June 2016 I found wearing a mask was the only way I could function and it seemed more important to protect others feelings than my own.
But pretending to be ok when you're not takes its toll and I was diagnosed with PTSD in November last year after a terrifying episode.
We had been trying again for 3 months.
A friends pregnancy announcement and scan picture on social meda threw me into a full blown 3 hour panic attack - I couldn't breathe, part of me didn't even want to and my entire body went numb, I lay paralysed on the bed as my partner tried desperately to help me.
I tried to rip the skin off my body - the body that I despised for letting me down time after time and I wanted to run away and not come back. How I made it to work the next day I will never know.
After my 3rd loss in February 2017 I know I have distanced myself from people and places for self preservation but up until today i feel like I've mostly been ok.
Today, 6th June has just been a date to you but to me its a reminder and symbolises my failure to complete my family. I am glad today is over. I am not sure I will be ok next time someone asks...
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