Search

A Different Kind of Heartbreak



I wasn't even sure how I was going to start this blog. I think it has to be one of the hardest ones I've ever written and to be honest I'm still not sure what to write, or how to write it.


I'll start with what's been happening since July this year. I had been having more pain (again due to my Endo and Adenomyosis) and knew it was inevitable that I have ANOTHER op to do a clear out. I was booked in at the beginning of August (super fast - maybe 2 weeks after my appointment with my OB) as we knew we wanted to fall pregnant soon after. That was the whole point of it really, do a clear out, stop the pain and fall pregnant again. We had the exact same op before I fell with Willow so I had no worries at all that I would fall pregnant again. 


I did. Pretty much on my next cycle after my op. I had been tracking my ovulation and was a bit disheartened that I wasn't ovulating at the 14-15 day mark as we are suppose to. There was no smiley face on that little test but I kept trying everyday. I finally got one on day 24. This meant it was only 4-5 days until my period was due, and after a bit of research and chatting to the OB, it wasn't enough time for an egg to fertilise and stick.


I was due for my period and it didn't come. I did a test IMMEDIATELY and it came back positive. I did another 5 tests and they too came back with 2 pink lines. I was pregnant. But I knew in the back of my mind that it wasn't enough time if I did ovulate on that 24th day. I felt something wasn't right.

I told Greg and Willow and they were so excited. I was excited for them, but in my heart I couldn't get excited until I knew that it was in the right place (not eptopic). I'd had a fair bit of cramping on my left side (which I put down to the previous op - ovary was stuck to my bowel). We had good news. The sac was in my uterus so that was a relief...for now.


I had to wait another 4 weeks after that last scan to see our baby for the first time, to hear it's heartbeat and see it's little wiggle.


We arrived at the OB office and I had an internal scan. I looked up at the monitor and the baby was so small. For being almost 9 1/2 weeks, the baby should have had some little limbs, a big head and a heartbeat. There was nothing. It was measuring at 7 weeks and 3 days and no heartbeat. Our baby had left us 2 weeks earlier and I didn't even know it. 

I didn't have a bleed, nothing to indicate that my baby wasn't alive anymore. I was still nauseous, my boobs were growing and sore, my tummy was getting bigger but it was all a bad dream. I still had hormones running through my body but no baby. 

I sat there trying to not cry, I watched Greg try not cry while Willow just said - ok, we finished now? We were left to chat and cry about what had just happened. I broke down but I wasn't upset about the baby. I was upset for my family. I knew my body had done what it needed to, to keep my healthy and I deep down, I knew something wasn't right. 


We drove home with just the sound of our own tears, it was over. But it wasn't. It was far from over. I was told to let my body miscarry naturally as I already had so much scar tissue due to past operations that he wanted to avoid another one if possible. More scar tissue means more chances of miscarrying again. 

The next week was the longest, hardest and most emotionally mind fucking week of my life. I prayed every night that my body would expel the baby. It didn't. I cried every night that I was carrying around my deceased baby inside of me. I was angry, I was guilty and so bloody frustrated that my body could stop my baby from growing to term but it couldn't push me over that line to make this over. I walked around a shell of a person I was. I was blank. I was numb and I hated my body. I wasn't ok. I said I was fine, but I wasn't. I didn't leave my house. I didn't answer the phone. I didn't laugh and I was just on autopilot, being a mum and just doing the day. I was angry when people would say that Greg and I had a miscarriage. Yes, WE lost a baby but it was ME who had the miscarriage. I was the one who had to carry my baby around inside of me even though it wasn't alive. I was the one that had to deal with the emotions and physical pain everyday. I was the one that had to keep it together for me. So yeah, WE lost a baby, the other piece to our family,  but I lost my body and mind while dealing with 'pregnancy' hormones and nothing to show for it. No kicks. No heartbeat. No Wiggle.


I felt so annoyed at myself that I started making permanent decisions on a temporary feeling (which is NEVER  a good idea). I was determined that I would never go through this again. I never wanted to feel this pain again so I was set on the fact that I didn't want anymore children. I was upset and I let people's words get to me. 'You already have Willow, you should be thankful for that', 'Some people can't have any children so you should feel lucky you have one' 'At least you have Willow, others don't have that luxury'. It was like because I lost my second baby, I suddenly didn't appreciate my first born?? That's what those comment felt like to hear. I understood that I already had our beautiful little babe, the one that wasn't easy to get, the one we had to go through so many OB appointments and tests to get, the one we were told was a 5% chance of conceiving with. Oh, I got it. I know we are lucky to have her, every single day, but I still lost our second child and it hurt. So please, don't say to someone that they should be thankful for their living child/children. You don't know the heartache they have had to try and conceive their next child, they have still had a child die. There was a heartbeat. There was a connection to their unborn babe, there was an excitement for the /what to come' and it is gone. Let them grieve and just say 'I'm sorry, I'm here if you need to cry and chat'.

One week later, I was booked in to have a Suction Curette. It was the end. The thing I needed to move on from this and move on with my life. I still felt numb but I no longer had the reminder of what was. I had to grieve and I had to make the decision to better myself now. 


We told people early on we were having a baby. I HATE the stigma of having to wait until the 12 week mark, the 'safe' zone. If we all waited until we got to 'our' safe zone, we'd be announcing our pregnancy and birth at the same time. It's shit. We all need support every step of the way of our pregnancy, no matter how old our baby is. I have the most amazing people in my life. So much love and support and it helped. NO ONE should have to go through losing a baby on their own. With such a high rate of miscarriage (1 in 4), it shouldn't be something we hide. We NEED the support, we NEED the shoulder to cry on, we NEED the 'I'm so sorry'. It's part of healing and moving on. Talking about it helps you realise you are not alone. We shouldn't be embarrassed, or guilty, or blame ourselves for what has happened. Yes, it sucks so much. Yes, it knocks you around physical and mentally but we need each other and talking about it will help, even if it's a little bit, enough to get you out for a coffee with a friend.


I'm not ok. It will be a while before I get past this. We will try for another baby (with some help from IVF this time), but I need to look after me for now. My health, (mind and body) and focus on our gorgeous little girl who reminds me everyday, that I am so strong and can keep going.







78 views
  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Pinterest Icon

© 2019 by The Chronicles of Mumma. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Pinterest Icon