In September 2019, three days before my 12 week scan appointment, the midwife confirmed that I had had a missed miscarriage. My baby had stopped developing at approximately 7 weeks but my body hadn’t registered the loss.
I was sat down in a room and had to wait for someone to come and tell me our options. I didn’t know what to do so I opted for the surgical option because I was afraid to go through it at home. I would have to wait three days before I could have the surgery and so I was sent home with a leaflet and my grief.
The next day my miscarriage began in earnest and I sat on the toilet crying my heart out while my husband held my hand. He phoned the midwife and we went in to hospital for a scan. We were told it wasn’t over and we went back home. This happened a further twice before the day of my surgery. Once again I was scanned and advised to go ahead with the surgery which I did.
The staff were amazing. I specifically remember the anaesthetist in the theatre, in my memory she is an angel. She held my hand so tenderly and asked about my baby. No one had acknowledged my baby until this point.
The next few days are a blur. I know I took time to physically recover and I took time to be able to talk to anyone other than my family. I wanted to be isolated.
The world hadn’t even known I was pregnant so how did I start to tell them what I’d lost? I went back to work all too soon and it was still a secret from everyone other than my boss. The worst day was when a colleague came in with his brand new baby granddaughter and the crowd congregated right outside my office door. As soon as they left I ran to the toilet and cried. A colleague found me and I told her everything.
Slowly, I began to talk. Each new person I told I felt the load get a little lighter. The amount of men and women who told me they too had experienced miscarriage or baby loss in their lives was astounding. I’d heard the statistics of 1 in 4 but when it’s happening to you, it means nothing. But these real people, sharing their stories, that really helped. I now speak about the baby I lost whenever I can.
I write this now 5 months pregnant with my second little miracle. I read somewhere that pregnancy after loss is like holding your breath for 9 months. Well, that sure is the truth but so far this little one is doing great. I still check my underwear every single day for signs of spotting and I feel a pang of anxiety for every twinge in my abdomen but that is my reality and I know I will be okay.