What no one tells you about miscarriage

What no one tells you about miscarriage

Miscarriage: 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage but no one ever talks about it.

March 2017; I turned 40. I had been married for almost 10 years and was a mother to 3 beautiful children. Life was good, but I felt like there was a piece missing, like my family was incomplete. We agreed to try for another child and in May 2017 we were graced with a positive test. My body did it. I wasn’t too old to conceive. We were so happy! 


The weeks went on and I was lucky not to be feeling too sick. I had my booking in
appointment and I booked my 12 week scan.. We were both so excited though that we couldn’t wait to see our new addition so we booked a private scan.

The day arrived when we were going to meet our 4 th baby, we chatted on the way about whether it would be a girl or a boy, who it would look like, who it would it be like and we arrived in good time.
We booked in and we were soon in the scanning room. The sonographer began the
ultrasound and we could see our baby on the screen in front of us. The sonographer was silent. I sensed there was something wrong. I was right. “I’m so sorry there is no heartbeat” were the words that broke the silence. Our beautiful baby had died a week before. I had had a Missed Miscarriage.

Our hearts broke into a thousand pieces, our world was shattered. I was his Mummy and I couldn’t make it ok. It broke me, and I was numb.
In the days that followed I went through what I had to do, re-tests, re-scans, D&C all the medical things that followed a process, but my mind was elsewhere. Was it something I did? Was it something I didn’t do? The Mummy guilt was overwhelming. I was broken physically and emotionally, and I didn’t know where to turn.

As I told people what had happened I was greeted with:
“It would have been worse if you were further along, you are lucky really”
“You already have three kids you don’t need anymore”
“It wasn’t meant to be”
“How are you after your small operation then?”
How could I be lucky to lose a baby? Why would I feel that baby number four would not be
loved just the same as the other three? I didn’t have a “small op” I delivered my baby. It
hurt. The harsh reality was, no one really seemed to understand.

People avoided conversation with me about my miscarriage, to me they didn’t care but in truth they probably didn’t know what to say. I felt like I was alone. I lay in bed sobbing, not really knowing what to do with myself. I had to act normally for the other children, when inside all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and shut out the world.

Then there was my husband, he was grieving too but until something like this happens you don’t realise how different men and women deal with loss. We were distant and angry with each other, but we were united at the same time.

As the days went on, I looked to find something to remember him by. I decided to paint a pottery pot to plant Forget me nots in. It helped. I joined a Facebook Miscarriage group and finally found people who just knew. A place where no one even knew me but a safe place to talk and listen. Some ladies were falling pregnant again, this gave me hope. Some were suffering loss after loss. We were there for each other. A virtual unity of women whose experiences was invaluable. Social media support at its greatest.

In the weeks that followed we picked ourselves up, moved forwards with our lives knowing that our baby would never be forgotten by us. We would move on in our own time.

To all those who have suffered a loss, I send you strength to heal.
To those who know someone who is going through a loss. Don’t cross the road to the other side. You don’t need to say much to make a difference. “I’m so sorry” “I’m here if you need me” is enough. Listen if they are ready to talk. 

 

 

 

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