How do you write a blog about a miscarriage when so many people still think we shouldn’t talk about it?
I thought long and hard about how to start this blog, most of it involved me second guessing whether I should actually write anything at all, but this subject is so important to me and I want others to know it’s ok. So, thats how I’m begining this blog by saying
Having survived an abusive relationship, I met the man of my dreams (he’d actually been under my nose for quiet some time, I just hadn’t paid attention) he loved me, for who I was and he was such a doting father figure to my little girl, life seemed perfect. We talked about having more children, a lot and had planned to start trying once I finished my uni degree. However, the universe obviously had different plans because just two months after starting my final year, I found out I was pregnant. Now I’m not going to lie and say that I was elated because I wasn’t, I had a hard year ahead at uni and the thought of being pregnant through it all, terrified me. Kyle reassured me, saying all the right things and I felt more confident in myself and my ability to ‘do it all’.
After about a month I started to get excited, although I had been suffering with the most horrific morning sickness, I didn’t care because I knew it was just a side effect of growing our tiny human inside of me. I was falling in love with someone I hadn’t even met yet and I loved it. For my birthday my mum and I went shopping in Cardiff, I always like to get a little something for Nola (My little girl) so we found our self in Zara kids surrounded by beautiful baby clothes. My mum started getting all excited about the prospect of buying for a boy and not a girl (even though we had no idea what it was yet) and I got carried away and bought a lovely pair of natural baby trousers, I really was loving life.
The following day at work I noticed I was spotting, I’d experienced this in my last pregnancy but it wasn’t as heavy and I hadn’t had the stomach cramps that I was experiencing. I tried to ignore my gut feeling and tell myself that everything was ok and I was totally overthinking it but somehow deep down I knew that this baby just wasn’t going to make it. The next few weeks were kind of a blur, I had numerous scans and doctors appointments, glimmers of hope that were taken away in a dash and unanswered questions that I felt too afraid to ask. We had 3 scans in total, the first two, we were told that everything looked normal but was the baby was growing slowly, I accepted this and clung onto the hope that everything would be ok. On the third scan day I prayed, I’m not a religious person but my goodness I wanted everything to be ok and I was willing to do anything to make sure it was. Waiting to go into the scan room seemed to take forever, I couldn’t talk to Ky I was so nervous and he was so lovely trying to make everything seem fine. When they called us in, I remember lying down and turning my head away from the screen, almost as if I knew I needed to protect myself. I watched Ky’s face as they scanned me, initially, he looked confused and then he just looked at me, and just like that the sonographer said ‘I’m sorry, theres no heartbeat’.
I froze in that moment, it was like my body put itself into auto-pilot, I said thank you to the sonographer and told her it was ok, as if I needed to make her feel better. We were taken into a small room where, we were left waiting whilst the sonographers wrote her notes. I remember Kyle putting his head in his hands and asking me if I was ok. I wasn’t ok by any means, I was angry, upset, confused, frustrated and hurt. I didn’t understand why this was happening to me, what had I done, why I was being punished, why would the world just not let me be happy? I was emotionally frazzled.
A doctor came to talk to us about what had happened, they told me that it was quite normal and that ‘at least I knew I was able to get pregnant’. Although I’m sure those words were meant kindly, I was angry at the fact someone thought I could just replace the baby I had just lost, with another. Then came the ultimate blow, the doctor said, ‘We found some abnormal cysts’. My mind went into overdrive. I heard the odd word that followed and just found myself agreeing, I had to have an operation to remove the fetus and cells (something I didn’t know happened) and I would be monitored over the next year, meaning I wasn’t able to get pregnant again until I had been given the all clear. I could just feel myself being consumed by my mind and the negatives thoughts I was having.
My operation was scheduled for the next day and was relatively quick and painless. They gave me some great pain killers that knocked me out, which I was so grateful for, as my mind hadn’t rested. Once at home I just felt quiet, everyone was asking if I was ok and I’d say ‘Yes’, but I wasn’t, I just wanted the world to swallow me up. Over the next few weeks I tried to talk about my miscarriage with friends and family but everyone would change the subject or tell me ‘it was just on of those things’, I just wanted to talk about it but whenever I tried I was cut off, I could see it made others uncomfortable.
I was Lost, Silenced and Devastated.
I remember returning to work and everyone being so nice to me, it was lovely but I just wanted to talk to someone who understood and none of them did (or so I thought). Then after being back for a week another lady announced she was pregnant, I was so happy for her but at the same time, bitterly jealous. I just wanted that to be me. I spoke to a co-worker about everything and just burst into tears, the pain I was going through just wouldn’t subside. All I wanted was to be pregnant again and have a healthy baby.
Fast forward 4 Months and I was given the all clear to try again…I had numerous blood test to ensure everything was normal and was considered one of the lucky ones. However, was I brave enough try again? NO! Did I want to? YES! Was I terrified, Definitely.
After 4 months of trying we conceived, when I saw the test said positive I didn’t know how to feel, I ran downstairs to show Kyle and his face lit up, I on the other hand, felt sad and confused. It took me a little while to feel happy about it, Ky couldn’t quite understand why as this was everything that I had wanted. I was terrified the same thing would happened again, I wasn’t sure I would mentally survive the pain of losing another. The NHS and midwives were amazing, I had an early scan which showed a heartbeat and scans every two weeks until around 16 weeks to ensure growth was good. It wasn’t the easiest pregnancy by any means and although she tried to come early on two occasions, our little rainbow baby Phoebe was born on, 16/12/17.
Since then I have found myself looking at my miscarriage differently, It’s OK that it happened, It’s OK that I want to talk about, It’s completely normal that I felt all those feelings and didn’t understand why. It’s OK that I wasn’t OK for a while and It’s OK to be happy afterwards. We have to break the stigma attached to miscarriage because at the end of the day, 1 in 4 Women go through it, but as a society we don’t acknowledge it, rather than facing it alone, we should be ‘Surviving Miscarriage Together’.