The Birthday that will never be….

*The following is an open and frank story of my miscarriage, which some people may prefer not to read. However, I hope that this will help others who have been through the same realise that they are not alone. :(*

Tomorrow is an emotional day… another emotional day in an emotional week. Thursday was the 2 year anniversary of my Mum’s passing, and tomorrow will be the due date of my 2nd child. The baby I will never get to meet 🙁

We were over the moon in September when we learnt that we were expecting our 2nd child. Erin would have just turned 3, and we couldn’t wait for her to be a big sister.

Unfortunately this pregnancy wasn’t meant to be 🙁 This pregnancy was to end in miscarriage. At around 7 weeks pregnant I started to experience some light pink spotting. I was at a soft play area with my daughter and therefore had to hide my tension from her. I tried not to panic, but having had no bleeding at all with my first pregnancy, it was hard to stay calm. I was convinced I was having a miscarriage. I rang my local maternity clinic to enquire about early pregnancy scans, but they advised that before 8 weeks there wouldn’t be much they could confirm either way. It would be too early to see. I simply had to wait. I waited and hoped that the spotting could be old blood, implantation bleeding or some other non threatening symptom.

Unfortunately, the bleeding got worse. Over the next few days the pink turned to red, and the blood loss got heavier. Halloween came and went with all its festivities, and I put on a brave face, smiling through the stomach cramps. My gut was telling me that this journey wasn’t going to end well. On the 3rd day, I started to bleed heavily and headed to my local hospital where I was sent to the Early Pregnancy Assessment Unit.

I was given a trans-vaginal scan, and they were able to find my baby on the screen. However, in her exact words “you way to early to detect a heart beat – more like 4-5 weeks”. They tried to reassure me that I could have got my dates wrong,  that I could be less pregnant than I thought, and that some bleeding in early pregnancy is common, but again I knew that something was wrong. My periods are pretty much like clockwork, and after doing some calculations in my head, something didn’t sit right. As we were leaving, I asked if there was a chance my baby had simply stopped growing at 4 or 5 weeks and as such, that this was an inevitable miscarriage. Although my cervix was closed, they advised that this was sadly a possibility.

I lost my baby the following morning. In the early hours of the morning I went to the toilet and I will spare you the detail – but it was clear as clear can be. Obviously too early to be recognisable as a baby (for which I am grateful) but far more than I ever expected to see. The image will stay with me forever.

I felt numb. I felt an unbelievable amount of sadness, and fear of what would happen next. As I’m sure goes through the head of anyone having a miscarriage, the inevitable questions of why and what did I do wrong closely followed. I found myself thinking of everything I did during this pregnancy that I didn’t do with Erin, and wondering what, if any of them may have caused it. I felt like a bit of a failure, I felt an incredible sense of sadness for Erin, and wondered how Mike would be feeling, knowing that he would most likely keep his feelings pretty hidden.

I returned to work the following day. Some may question whether this was healthy, but I decided that life must go on. Despite the fact a lot of women who experience loss hating the phrase “everything happens for a reason”, I have always lived by that mentality. I told myself that it was nothing I had done, it was just the journey of life. It didn’t change the fact that this was, and would have been my second child. A person, with a personality and future of their own.

The one thing that may make me different to some is that I wasn’t ashamed of telling people. I knew that despite my initial doubts and fears, this wasn’t my fault. I figured having the support of my family and friends was the most important thing, so I told people. I told them that I had miscarried and I graciously took their words of support. No one ever knows what to say, and there is never a “right response”, but I know that every word uttered was uttered with good intentions.

I consider myself to be incredibly lucky. I am now 7 months pregnant with my rainbow baby – the ray of sunshine after the storm. I am lucky that we conceived again quickly, and my body recovered quickly from our loss. Everyone is different and some may not feel comfortable trying again so soon, but only you and your partner can determine when the time is right.

Tomorrow I will think of the baby girl or boy that I will never get to meet, but I will remain proud of our little family and feel forever blessed. xxx

For those experiencing miscarriage or loss in pregnancy, I found Tommy’s to be a valuable source of information.