That’s probably not the way to start a blog but to be honest, I can’t think of another way-I’ve been waiting to find a time when I can speak about what I went through.
And now words seem to fail me.
I was picking up washing off of the floor when it happened. ‘Pop’. Honestly that’s the noise my tummy made.
I’d never had a miscarriage before. I’d never even thought about it being a possibility for me after having a baby 18 months before. Does that make me ignorant? Did I take it for granted?
Something told me to go the toilet.
In toddled my 18 month old toddler (why do they always want something when you’re on the loo?)
He wanted juice. I remember he asked for it as I looked down at the toilet paper. I remember getting up and repeating “juice”, “juice” at him so I didn’t forget. I got his juice and sat him with a snack in front of the TV.
On autopilot I went to the bedroom, sat on the end of my bed and called my husband. He never answers at work-but he did, straight away.
I said “I need to go to the hospital, I’m bleeding and you need to get your mum to come and sit with our boy.”
I waited for him to come and hugged my tummy so tight, I tried to keep it in, I asked the baby not to go, please don’t leave me I kept repeating.
My husband came home. “It’s just a bit of blood”, he said. “It happens to a lot of women”. His mum said the same thing. I knew though.
After a long wait at the hospital, lots of bloods taken and a 3 hour wait for a scan, in we went. She scanned…..and scanned…..and no heartbeat was found. It had never been there. Our little baby, who I’d been planning pushchairs and car seats for, had never even been alive.
The ultrasound technician said “we’ll scan you again to make sure next week.”
I sobbed the whole way back to my little room. A lady came in and held me. She gave hubs some leaflets. And he kept saying to her “they said her dates might just be out, they’re going to rescan her-nothing’s 100%”. I saw how she looked at him. I already knew and so did she.
I remember my baby. I remember feeling pregnant. That was my child.
I went on to have two more miscarriages. Each as heartbreaking as the other but each expected after the first one. I mentally set myself up for loss. Each time it happened I’d say well I knew that would happen, while being as devestated as before.
Little did I know that setting myself up for loss and negativity as I did during those years led to me being diagnosed with severe anxiety disorder and depression a year after my daughter was born.
I fell pregnant for the 5th time, while I was waiting for test results for why I kept losing babies.
This one stuck. I had a daughter. My rainbow after my storms.
I am so blessed to have my children, even if I hadn’t had anymore, I was blessed to be given the chance to have one. So many people around the world can’t have children and I can’t imagine how that feels.
People think when you’ve had a baby after losses, it helps with the feeling of grief and loss? I can’t say it does. My children make me happier than I can explain. But I’ll never not grieve for my unborn babies, I’ll never not wonder what they’d have looked like, what they would’ve been like-like their brother and sister maybe?
I have carried 5 babies, and I am a mummy to all of them.