This is not something I write easily.
It is not something I write for sympathy.
I do not think I’m worse off than anyone else.
We are extremely lucky 🌈.
Please skip this post if you do not feel ready – you can always return in the future.
This is where it all started…….
We fell pregnant around 9 months before our wedding, it was crazy to think that we would be weeks away from giving birth on our wedding day!
All the same we were extremely happy, and of course we thought pregnancy leads to taking a baby home so excitement set in .
The next thing I knew I was in horrendous pain. I called the doctors and they booked me in for a scan the following day at 12pm.
I went to work because that is what I do no matter how poorly I feel and I work my way through the pain.
It got to around 11am and I was unable to stand, I was aware I was sweating profusely. My husband picked me up and off to the hospital we went. I was terrified that something was wrong and just couldn’t shake this gut wrenching feeling.
We waited for what felt like an eternity and went in for the scan they didn’t really say much at that point, told us to wait for the doctor.
We waited….
The next thing I knew was I’m admitted, they thought that the pregnancy was ectopic.
I was bombarded by doctors and an anaesthetist.
I signed bits of paper which would allow them to do whatever was necessary and off I went to wait for surgery.
It turns out I had ruptured cysts and they assured me that the surgery should not effect the pregnancy.
24 hours later we lost our baby.
The process was long and painful.
I wanted to miscarry naturally so medical management not surgical (I do not like hospitals).
It turns out my body doesn’t do things effectively.
We were heartbroken .
We asked for help from professionals.
There was a very long wait for this and once we did get to speak to someone they said that these issues were out of there remit.
This made me feel horrendous, like there was something seriously wrong with me.
The next pregnancy happened on our wedding day! We didn’t find out about this pregnancy till a while after our honeymoon. It was perfect! We got further into this pregnancy and we were 8 days away from our 12 week scan when the spotting started.
Looking down at my knickers with little spots of blood I felt sick.
When I say sick I mean dizzy sick, about to faint sick.
The uncontrollable crying and irrational emotional outbursts started again.
My husband was so strong although I know how heartbroken he was.
This time everything was more painful.
I couldn’t get a grip on reality.
I went through days without really realising I was loosing time.
After being told there was no heartbeat and that I would start the miscarrying process again, It was easy to slip into binge drinking because it numbed me even just for a short period of time.
Again my body didn’t do what it should have done. I felt that being a women I should have been able to be a safe place for a baby.
The miscarriage this time was bad!
We had been away for a weekend to get some alone time away from everything that had happened, I thought I had finished miscarrying by this point. How wrong was I !
On the way back from our weekend away, I felt a huge amount of pressure, warmness and then pain head – spinning pain.
We pulled over in a service station and I was bleeding ALOT.
I was in a car park full of people. I had bled through my underwear, jeans, and jacket .
I ran into the bathroom crying and pulled down my trousers and the blood was streaming out of me.
I cleaned myself and the bathroom as much as I could and came out to the loving arms of my husband 💙.
The journey home consisted of pain and us wondering whether we should go to the hospital.
We got home and we had left the key in our hotel. By this point I should have let him take me to the hospital but as I said I hate them.
So off to my mums we go where I take some tablets and curl up with a hot water bottle.
The bleeding didn’t ease so we ended up in hospital that night. It was a long 24 hours.
The 3rd time was a complete blur, by this point it was all too much.
We again heard the dreaded words of I’m so sorry – “there’s no heart beat” – as my mum held my hand in a pitch black room, with the blinking little light in the ceiling.
This time I wasn’t silly enough to think my body could do what it was supposed to, and I had the operation and took the morphine.
The mental strain was too much for us both and we took a break from trying.
Around 6 months after our last pregnancy we decided we were ready to try again.
…………….Then came the pandemic.
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