*This post contains details of miscarriage and baby loss, please avoid if you will find this too upsetting*
When we decided to announce our pregnancy earlier than the usual 12 week point I repeatedly said that if the worst was to happen I would share that anyway, so why wait to tell the world. But I don’t think that I ever actually considered having to write the next few heartbreaking words. Unfortunately just a few days after we announced our lovely news things have gone very wrong, and I’m still trying to process the past 72 hours. After a weekend of light bleeding I was booked in for an emergency early scan at the Early Pregnancy Assessment Unit on Monday morning, and despite my pregnancy dating at 11 weeks, the scan showed a baby only approximately 5-6 weeks in size, with no visible heart beat. Although I have to go back next week to confirm, we know that this is it for certain.
I’ve felt overwhelmed by a lot of emotions since that moment. Sadness, heartache, disappointment. Confusion, anger and upset. I’ve felt a lot of guilt, especially when hearing the voices of loved ones as we’ve broken the news to them. Knowing that we’ve taken away their dream of a niece/nephew or grandchild arriving soon. I feel betrayed by my own body, how could this have happened and I had no clue?
I feel in limbo, just waiting. Waiting for my body to let go now. Waiting for the next phase of this trauma to start. With very little idea of what to expect next I feel terrified of what’s to come, terrified of how I’m going to cope with what’s to follow. Instead of batch cooking in preparation of the arrival of a newborn in August, I’m batch cooking now incase I’m not able to stand and cook dinner once the process really begins. Instead of spending the last few weeks wondering if a twinge is the start of something, I’m spending now wondering if this back ache and pain is where my miscarriage will really begin.
I also feel a lot of pressure. Pressure to carry on, to remain strong and be ok. Because life carries on regardless. I felt the pressure to get myself off of that hospital bed, get to Tesco to do a food shop and pick Dilan up from forest school just like I normally would. I felt the pressure to get dinner on the table Monday night, to do bath and bedtime like I always do. I feel the pressure to continue on as normal, as though nothing at all has changed.
Except it has. All those dreams we had of a summer baby, all the plans we had in place. All the names we’ve come up with, the clothes that we’ve bought, they are all gone now, and what’s left is just a painful reminder of what will never be.
Really I know that we are lucky. Lucky because we have a perfect four year old, who is constantly throwing his hands around my neck and giving me a big squeeze. Lucky that we have each other, and some incredible friends and family who are helping us to navigate this difficult time period. Lucky that we fell pregnant so quickly, and so I have every hope that we will go on to do that again. I know there are people out there suffering recurrent loss, some after years of trying, and my heart truly goes out to them.
I know that one day Dilan really will be the proudest big brother in the world, that one day we really will be a family of four. But just for a while, just for a minute I need to feel this. I need to feel sadness for the little baby I’ll never hold, feel angry that our dreams have for now been ripped away, feel confusion about why this has happened, why now, why to us. Feel scared of what the next few weeks will bring and how I’m going to deal with it. How I’m going to cope.
Tomorrow I’ll get up and I’ll carry on because that’s what we do, and life does go on. I’ll ride it out and find inner strength and survive what comes next. We will work through this together, just like we do when we are faced with any other bump in the road. But truthfully this is a bump I really wish we never had to face.