The aims being to increase awareness of miscarriage – sadly, it happens to many, many women every single day and is still very much a taboo topic – and to campaign for improvements in the miscarriage care that women receive in the UK.
As a Mumsnet Blogger I was more than happy to write about my experience to support the campaign. I touched on our year from hell here, but as the year anniversary of our first loss is approaching, it seems fitting (and maybe healing) to write it all down somewhere.
Its one of those things that you think is never going to happen to you.
Especially after having had two trouble-free pregnancies and two healthy baby boys.
I had a feeling from about 17 weeks that something wasn’t right with my third pregnancy. I remember waking up one morning and feeling not-quite-right – not-quite-pregnant anymore. But my bump seemed to be growing, I was still feeling a little sick and I had no reason to think that anything had gone wrong.
One morning in October (at 20 weeks) I woke up with vague cramps, I put it down to stretching pain and carried on with my day. It was only when the pains continued and worsened that I decided to phone the Early Pregnancy Unit for advice.
I was told it was all normal and to take a paracetomol.
The pains increased and after the worst night of my life – I knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what to do whilst my family slept soundly around me, screaming silently is how I remember it now – I managed to speak to a midwife who took me seriously and told me to come into the Labour Ward. The rest of that day is a blur. I was examined and scanned, to be told that my baby had no heartbeat. The memory still makes me feel sick – I remember the sonographer’s exact words – ‘I’m afraid there’s no little heartbeat there today’ and the lovely midwife who stayed in the scan room with me (my husband was at home with our boys, not thinking that there was anything seriously wrong.)
Looking back, I can’t believe how calm I was – I suppose I had to be.
At 4pmish that same day I delivered our little boy – although we didn’t know he was a little boy at the time. We had decided not to see or hold him – and although I know it was the right thing for us at the time, it still haunts me to this day. We have his tiny hand and footprints.
We have never found out we lost our little boy – and its likely that we never will.
That’s hard to deal with.
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| Bootie I crocheted for the first baby we never got to meet - I never got round to making the second one. It will always be his. |
Even though at 20 weeks I had to give birth to our baby, it is still classed as a miscarriage. If it had happened 3.5 weeks later then it would be called a still-birth - his birth and death would have been registered and I would have been entitled to maternity leave.
I’ve since gone on to have two more miscarriages – both early thankfully, and we are still no closer to finding out what may be causing them.
The theory seems to be that it is just ‘bad luck’. I accepted that after the first, and even after the second, but after the third I am no longer willing to accept that as an explanation.
I’m lucky in that the majority of the care I’ve received over the last year has been good. I can’t fault the care we received in hospital whilst giving birth to our boy. The midwife and consultant were compassionate and reassuring, and treated us with respect and sincerity.
The only blip was when we heard the lady in the room next door to us give birth to a healthy, squalling baby.
The care I’ve received since then has been satisfactory. I do feel that I am having to manage my own care to a certain extent – researching possible problems and pushing for certain tests and a referral to a specialist. There seems to be a lack of research into the causes of miscarriage in this country, particularly late losses. You only have to look at the number of high-profile celebrity cases that have occurred recently to realize that it happens more than we think, and a cause is rarely found.
Miscarriage changes you. I can’t imagine ever enjoying a pregnancy again, I constantly think there is something physically wrong with me and I’m not as carefree as I used to be. But I am feeling stronger everyday and I know one day in the not to distant future I will be ready to put myself in that position again.
I apologise for the mammoth post – and thank-you for sticking with it if you got this far.
I will be back later in the week with a guest poster who will be telling us about her experience.
You can also click on the thumbnails below to hop to some more bloggers involved in the campaign.
