It was confirmed this morning. The positives to take from this morning’s appointment were that no intervention was needed. My body has very efficiently done what it should. Not that it feels all that positive.
It was also a very different experience to the last time. A different hospital this time, and frankly, a much better one. We were treated with care, kindness and compassion which makes such a difference. The lady we spoke to after the scan gave us lots of good advice, lots of reassurance that despite having another miscarriage there’s no additional risk that it could happen again, and the fact that in between the two losses we had Arthur is reassuring in itself. The scan also showed that everything looks healthy and normal so as shitty as it is, this miscarriage was just one of those things.
I’ve been holding it together pretty well all week (or maybe just bottling it up, who knows) but I really feel it today. I’m sad. I’m angry. I want my baby.
Life’s not very fair sometimes.
7 weeks pregnant tomorrow, but not. I’ve been bleeding since Sunday. Mother’s Day. And my Birthday. Talk about Mother Nature being cruel.
More cruel yet is that I’m still suffering with morning sickness and dizziness. I still feel pregnant.
It doesn’t feel like last time. I don’t have that empty feeling this time, I don’t have the physical pain I had last time. It’s confusing and giving me what is likely to be false hope. I’m not a crying mess, I’m not consumed by the pain of it all. I don’t really feel anything but confused.
For now we play the waiting game until my scan appointment Friday morning. I only hope that it’s straight forward and unambiguous. I just want it done now. Gone.
Yesterday marked one year since that horrible 12 week scan and what was to be the start of the worst week of my life. I try not to dwell on it, as dwelling does no good, so I spent the day doing normal everyday stuff. I went to the dentist, met some friends for coffee and had my hair done. And it was ok.
I’d be lying if I said my mind didn’t wander, but I needed to be busy and wanted not to dwell on things that can’t be changed. I think I succeeded in that.
So, a year on and a lot has changed. The miscarriage association are still plugging away doing a terrific job of helping and supporting those who suffer a loss, and I had the pleasure of an email from lovely Ruth (to use her full name) a couple of weeks ago updating me on the latest with the educational videos I talked about in a blog post months ago. The videos have been made and are being rolled out to GP’s, Ultrasound technicians and anyone else likely to come in to contact with a woman suffering a miscarriage, any time now. I’m really glad I was able to offer some insight for this project and so pleased that it’s come to fruition. I sincerely hope it has the effect we all hope it will.
On a personal level, although my loss still at times feels very recent and very raw it was in actual fact a whole year ago now. In that year I’ve got a new house, new job, got engaged, and of course welcomed little Arthur in to the world safe and well. I’m thankful and very lucky to have all that I have, I know that, and I try very hard not to take any of it for granted. Do I still wonder what that baby would have looked like? Of course. Do I still long for him or her? Absolutely. But then I remind myself that I wouldn’t have had Arthur, and he is pretty awesome so I choose to focus on that on the tough days.
Although this is a morbid anniversary, I felt I needed to mark it somehow. Just let the universe know that I haven’t forgotten. Will never forget. Here seems as good a place as any to do that since here is where my recovery began really. Here is where I found unending support and understanding, here I found friends accross the world. We dragged each other through those awful times, and celebrated together through the happy times. Let’s hope there are more happy times to come for all of us.
Last weekend was my baby shower which my gorgeous best friend Dee arranged for me and it honestly couldn’t have been more lovely. There was plenty of delicious food, lots of my favourite people, and an overwhelming amount of practical, thoughtful and beautiful gifts for our little man, as well as some for mum and dad too! Lucky us! It was exactly what I’d have chosen had I been arranging it myself – tasteful and elegant. Not that I ever doubt Dee’s ability to know exactly what I want. She’s good like that!
It was such a lovely day (although I was completely exhausted by the end of it!) that left Paul and I feeling so thankful for all the wonderful people we have in our lives. It wasn’t just the overwhelming generosity of our family and friends, but also having those people there who’d seen us through our loss and are so thrilled and excited for us to be welcoming our little boy in just a matter of weeks now. It means a lot to know we have so much unwavering support during the bad times as well as the good, and reminds me how fortunate we are that we’re bringing this baby in to such a loving and supportive extended family. He is one lucky boy.
Since the baby shower I’ve had my consultant referral. We’ve been measuring a week ahead since 28 weeks so we were referred by the midwife for a growth scan. I was ready to burst with the excitement of seeing him again…but he had other ideas and only showed us his bum!!! (He’s definitely going to be mischievous!) everything was totally normal though (thankfully!) and he already weighed 4lb 4oz at 32 weeks. I think it’s safe to assume he’ll be a real chunk by the time he arrives!
So that’s my little update for you all, we’re all happy and healthy and just on countdown now to actually meeting the little man. 7 weeks to go! 😆
March 22nd is the day I was meant to have my baby. The date that’s been constantly at the back of my mind since last September, the one I’ve dreaded the most.
If I’m honest, I thought being pregnant again would make it easier somehow but I think that was wishful thinking. It’s a couple of days away and I can already feel the emotions bubbling up to the surface so I’m really glad I had the foresight to book a couple of days off work Monday and Tuesday. I guess it’s different for everyone, and on the one hand I did think maybe being in work would be a good distraction, but deep down it just feels wrong to be getting on with life when I know that’s the day my life should have been changing forever.
I don’t want to focus on how sad and how hard Tuesday is going to be for me – that’s a given, but at the same time I don’t want to brush it under the carpet and pretend it’s just another day. I kind of feel like I should be doing something to mark it. I just don’t know what.
So I’ll be at home able to feel whatever I need to feel and grieve however I need to grieve without prying eyes or well meaning friends and colleagues trying to help but not knowing how. I decided that removing myself from that potentially painful situation was probably wise because people don’t understand. With all the best will in the world, unless you’ve gone through it yourself (and I hope you never do) you simply can’t understand. I know all it would take is for one person to say “at least you’re pregnant now though” in that helpful, cheery tone to make my head explode and me to say something I regret to someone who was no doubt just trying to help.
So that’s where I’m at this morning. Headed off to my first NCT class to talk about all things babies when actually I’m pretty preoccupied with the baby that will never be. The one that nobody will talk about. Of course that then makes me feel guilty for (for want of a better word) “prioritising” my lost baby over my living one today.
This whole process of pregnancy and miscarriage and pregnancy post miscarriage is a whirlpool of conflicting emotions – guilt, anxiety and stress. I know in the long run it’ll be so worth it, and I know from my own experience that time really does heal, but I also know that this pain will likely never leave me. I’m not sure I want it to either. After all, it’s all I have left.
As hard as Tuesday will be, once it’s gone, it’s gone. I feel as though it’s the final stage of the grieving process. The last landmark date that I have to deal with. I’ve found a place for my grief and whilst it will always be with me, it’s manageable. I just have to get through Tuesday and then put that grief back in its box.
There’s a very good reason that my best friend, Dee, is my best friend.
Today is a weird day for me. I’m so lucky to be having a healthy little boy, and so happy to know that I’m a mum…but I’m also sad. Sad that my first little one will never call me mammy. Today is a day that forces me to think about my loss, probably made all the worse for knowing that my due date would’ve been just a couple of weeks away. I’m sure Paul would’ve been making a fuss of me today, excitedly looking forward to welcoming our baby any day now, and that’s hard to contemplate.
Honestly, I’m in a weird emotional state at the moment and I’ve been trying not to dwell on what might’ve been, trying not to be silly or ungrateful for what I have now.
I didn’t really think anyone else would think about it. I don’t mean that in a horrible way, it’s not that I think people don’t care or anything, it’s just that people’s memories are short, their lives are busy, and unless they’ve experienced that same loss they just don’t understand. And then Dee text me to say that she’s thinking of me and my first little one today. It touched me more than I can say. Yes I had a cry, but to know that my baby is remembered by others too is a really lovely, comforting thing. That message also allowed me to feel what I’ve been trying to avoid feeling. By having someone else acknowledge my grief, it feels ok to have a cry. It feels ok to not be strong today. For that, and so much more I thank my oldest friend.
I guess today is going to be hard, and I have to accept that and try to look for the positives. At the same time, I wanted to honour our loss too.
I’m thinking of you all today, all you special women who’ve helped and supported me through what was the hardest time of my life. Today is a tough one, but we’re strong. We’ll get there.
Yup! That pretty much sums up what I think about 2015. It started off well, but took a serious nose dive for the last quarter and honestly, that nose dive was so shitty it took the shine off all the good things that happened prior to it.
Needless to say, I’m hoping for a better year for us all next year. Not that I want to be all doom and gloom. I am an eternal optimist after all, and a natural born fighter to boot, so I’ll keep plodding along being thankful for the things I do have. With that in mind, I’m really wishing my amazingly supportive friends and family all the luck, love and happiness in the world for the coming year. They deserve so many good things. They’re always there and always awesome but never was that truer than in September when my whole world crumbled. I seriously wouldn’t have survived it without my amazing man and family by my side, and that handful of truly fantastic friends who just let me be. Whether I was happy or sad or crying or screaming, they just let me be. They have been and still are so understanding even when I’ve been an antisocial, miserable hermit! They lost the Cerian they knew and loved for a while there, but I think she’s breaking through the surface now. For their unending patience, I can’t thank them enough. They will never know how much they helped me or how thankful I am to have them in my life because there just aren’t enough words to explain it.
I go in to this new year with a feeling of being at peace. Life is messed up and chaotic and sometimes really really shitty but if it wasn’t then maybe we wouldn’t be the people we are today. I hate that I, and so many of my friends, old and new, have had to know the pain of losing a child, but it has shown me that I’m capable of such all consuming love that the loss of it is utterly devastating. So, if I’m looking for a positive here then that has to be it. Because what could be more amazing than knowing you have that much love inside you?
So here’s to a better 2016. A happy, healthy one full of happy tears not sad ones. Here’s to a fresh start. X