Home Fertility Our favourite ‘what if’ – A story of miscarriage

Our favourite ‘what if’ – A story of miscarriage

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molar pregnancy missed miscarriage

As me and my husband stared at the monitor then looked at each other, we knew straight away. It was gone. With my head in my hands the sonographer told me to get dressed and head back to the waiting room to speak to a nurse. The only thing stopping me from pouring my eyes out was the fact no one had said the words yet.

In April our beautiful baby girl came into this world and we were overjoyed. The pregnancy, the labour and the birth was all just perfect. No sickness, no cravings, no weight gain, no thirty hour labour. Just a quick seven hours and she was bought into this world. I knew just days after having her that I craved another. I missed being pregnant!

We had always wanted children close together so when we found out just three months after giving birth the first time that I was pregnant, it was welcomed with such joy and excitement. My husband and I promised each other that we would wait till 12 weeks till we told any one. That soon went to the window. I was six weeks pregnant and both sets of parents were told. They were overjoyed if not a little surprised.

Some may say I’m lucky that I had no symptoms at all, but to me it didn’t seem real yet, despite the eight positive pregnancy results. My husband and I booked a private scan with a fantastic company called baby bond. We used them so much during our first pregnancy we just knew that we wanted to return to have an early scan, and see our little bean growing slowly.

Baby bond in Dudley is located within a mothercare store. Now im sure every mum can relate that when you walk into mothercare you can’t help but look at everything! With a child in tow already, so many things go through your mind. A double pushchair, a new car seat, newborn clothes, the works. My husband hurried me along to an appointment we were already late too, which seems to just be normal in our family. We filled in the paper work and before we knew it I was laying on the bed ready to be scanned.

Within 5 minutes the sonographer had found the sac, and our little, and I mean little bean. A heartbeat, belonging to our baby measuring just 3.3mm! We weren’t as far along as we thought so to not see a bigger blob was slightly deflating. That would soon be the last of our worries. The sonographer went slightly quiet but carried on scanning and writing in code. All I could think of was the little heartbeat we had seen, a slight relief. Until she said she has concerns..

Molar pregnancy. Now for those who don’t know what a molar pregnancy, in simple terms, means that the placenta is growing too fast for baby, and therefore it creates cysts on the placenta which are visible on a scan and looks a little like Swiss cheese. The sonographer explained it in so much detail to me, but in all honesty it went straight over my head its some sort of blur. How could this be happening? What was a molar pregnancy? How could i have prevented it? So many questions running through my mind. But at the same time I didn’t want google to be my main source to answer them. We got referred back to the NHS and for the time being I put it to the back of my mind and wanted to enjoy the bank holiday weekend, surrounded by family. At this point miscarriage wasn’t even on my mind.

It wasn’t the best weekend ever that’s for sure. Sunday morning I woke up, it was still pitch black outside, so I knew it was very close to midnight. There was bleeding. This was normal right? This can happen in early pregnancy? I didn’t think much of it, got back into bed and ignored it. Until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. The bleeding got heavier and heavier. How could this be happening? Was my baby ok? More unanswered questions that I couldn’t do anything about until after the bank holiday.

Tuesday 29th August, the day I pretty much was numb the whole day. It started off as a kinda normal day. We had a routine midwife appointment at the hospital to start the paper work. We knew this wouldn’t be a normal appointment though. Michelle the midwife, saw me all the way through my first pregnancy so it was nice to see a familiar face smiling at us as we got to the reception. Again we were late. Before Michelle could say anything to us, we told her about the scan, the concerns and the bleeding. Waiting for her to reassure us, her face dropped. We knew just then that there was an issue. She called the main hospital with the early pregnancy ward and off we went for a scan.

My husband and I said nothing at all to each other the whole car journey. Silence.. Arrived at the hospital and found the ward, we sat in the waiting area surrounded by people. Wondering if they were in the same situation.

We got called in, the sonographer was so happy and positive, it was a breath of fresh air. For a minute he made all the worries just disappear. He scanned away. By now my husband and I have seen, what seems like a million scans. We know what to be looking for. We know what a sac looks like. We had a picture fresh in our minds from the scan a few days prior.

This is not what we saw. We saw a very different picture, the sac was a triangle shape, instead of the perfect circle it should be and right then in an instance, my husband looked at me and shook his head.

We were sent back into the waiting room until we got called into a private room to speak with the nurse. She chatted away, and I just told her to be blunt with us. ‘I’m so sorry, the sac is collapsing, and you have lost the baby. Your going through a miscarriage’ Time literally stood still, I stared into space. The nurse still chatting away and my husband reaching out to comfort me. I had no words and I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t want to talk about it any more. We left the hospital. I called my mum, and it wasn’t till I said it out loud that I burst into tears. How has this happened? I felt like I had massively let my husband down. I had lost his baby.

We drove back home, tears streaming down my face. I got home and cuddled under the blanket on the sofa and said nothing. We hardly spoke to each other.

The night drew in and off to bed we went. We cuddled, we cried. How could I still be pregnant but there not be a baby? How was I honestly gong to come to terms with the fact that just a few days ago I saw a beating heart and it now taken away from me. I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. I didn’t want to accept it.

I woke in the night to a very unpleasant surprise. Obviously the placenta has to come out. It’s nothing like the bright, beautiful, colourful placenta you push out after having a baby that’s for sure. It’s not pretty, but I couldn’t stop staring at it. I held it for what seemed like a life time. I obviously had disturbed my husband and seeing as I was gone so long, he came to find out why, he looked at what I was holding, he knew what it was. We decided to just flush it and it was gone.

After a resetless night thinking of many what ifs and what could have beens, I had an idea. Our baby was now a bright shining star in the sky. It was an angel. Our favourite one at that. I have a very special charm bracelet to me, marking the very special occasions my husband and I have experienced. Marriage, home, baby. It was now time to add a charm to represent this occasion in our lives. It was something we will never forget. We headed to the jewellery store and bought a star charm, which has been added onto my bracelet and is close to me every day.

It took me ages to come to terms with speaking about miscarriage, for ages I felt like I let my husband and my daughter down. For ages I thought it was my fault and rattled my brain to think of anything I coldnt have done differently. Could I have eaten healthier, could I have cooked that steak a little bit more well done, could I have refrained from lifting up my daughter, could I have put less strain and stress on my body? So many things I thought I could have done different, but in fact millions of people go through miscarriages for all different reasons.

I didn’t write this blog post about miscarriage for sympathy or attention, but to create awareness. It’s ok to talk about it however long it takes to say it out loud. It’s ok to cry about it until you have no tears left. It’s ok to not know how long your going to grieve for. My baby was only 7 weeks when we lost it, but whether it’s 7 weeks or seven months it doesn’t hurt any less. It sucks.

The whole ‘trying’ for a baby is now on hold and who knows when we will start trying again, for now we will cherish the beautiful girl we have already bought into this world and concentrate on having a healthy body and mind. Who knows where the next few years will take us. You will have to watch this space!

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