Diary of a Miscarriage

If you have any concerns or questions about Miscarriages speak to your GP or midwife - this information is a general overview and not intended as professional medical advice.

Thursday

I am 10 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I took my son Josh to the park today. A woman let her dog into the play area, and Josh who is scared of strange dogs was hysterical and had to be picked up. We collected Lauren from her friends on the way home and I sat and had a cup of tea with other mums who are friends. As we are talking I become aware of my knickers feeling damp, but think maybe I am sweaty as it’s a hot day.

When we get home I go to the loo and see a small amount of blood in my knickers. I calmly go downstairs and phone Gary to tell him. He starts to panic and tells me to phone my mum to come and have the kids. I do this but tell her not to come till my dad finishes work (about half an hour later). I am convinced it’s nothing to worry about and go about making the kids tea. Gary gets home and then mum and dad arrive but I refuse to leave until I’ve finished the kid’s tea.

We go to the local A & E, where we sit listening to a woman also 10 weeks pregnant; in a slanging match with another woman (they have been in a fight). They shout and scream across the room and she is seen first, although we have been there longer. When we are finally seen, I am told to go for a wee and am given a toilet liner to wee into. I finished and am just about to go when I decide I need another wee. I don’t put the liner back in but pass a huge clot into the toilet bowl. By the time I meet the nurse outside the toilet door I am sobbing uncontrollably, I didn’t think there was anything wrong and now I know I am losing the baby. The doctor listens to my tummy but can’t tell anything, so I am given an appointment for later the next morning.

Mum and dad have put the kids to bed. We watch a bit of Extras; it’s the one with Les Dennis, I still can’t watch that episode. I go to bed and lie there as still as possible; as if that will make a difference, I literally daren’t move. I hardly sleep.

Friday

Gary has to practically force me to go for a wee this morning, I don’t want to know if there are more blood clots. But there is. Mum comes to have the kids. We tell her its not good news and we huddle upstairs whispering so the kids don’t hear us. When we get to the hospital we head for the Early Pregnancy Unit. The “Fighting Woman” from A & E last night is there and she is fine. I sit with Gary in a cubicle and cry. I don’t know what Gary did, I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t cope with my own pain let alone his as well.  We are seen by a lovely nurse called Candy. She is so kind that I cry even more.

We go into the room to be scanned, it seems small and claustrophobic. I am told to strip from the waist down and am given a blanket to keep my dignity. I have to change in the loo attached to the room. They scan my tummy and can’t find a heartbeat. So I have a vaginal scan; I notice that they take the probe out of me before they tell me that there is no heartbeat. The woman scanning me says something like, “I’m sorry but it’s not going to work out this time”, like we’re talking about a recipe not a baby.

I get up to dress and let the sheet fall to the floor, everyone seems horrified for me, but I don’t care about my dignity now. I dress and we go back to Candy’s office, then I cry some more. She is lovely again and gently talks us through what has happened and our options now. Apparently the baby had stopped growing, maybe that makes it easier; there was nothing I could have done. I am offered the choice of letting nature take its course, or tablets to help my body remove the baby (our baby), or a D & C (dilation and curettage). I want the tablets. I need to start them now or I never will.

Whilst they find me a bed Gary rings my mum and his mum. Mum offers to tell Lauren and Josh. I say yes but I want her to say the baby hadn’t grown, it sounds less harsh than saying it’s died. When I’ve taken the tablets we have to wait in the hospital for two hours. Before we leave we are given an appointment for Sunday, I have to go back and take the final 3 tablets. On the way home we stop off at Focus and buy a Remembrance Rose.

We get home to lots of love and hugs from the kids and mum. I think we go and see Gary’s mum and dad later on. I can just remember driving home a different way, everything seemed surreal and I felt detached from events at this point. When we get home I order a prawn curry, I haven’t had prawns for a few weeks. I think they may taste good, they don’t. Even so I pick the prawns out and leave the rest. When I stand up I lose lots of blood. Gary takes the kids upstairs before they see. I clean up the kitchen floor and put my clothes in the washing machine. When the kids are in bed I have a very large vodka and tonic (against doctor’s advice). Gary rings all our friends, but I make him go out of the room, I don’t want to hear him say the words.

The rest of the night and Saturday pass in a blur, although I sleep soundly on Friday night.  We take the kids to my mum and dads to stay as we have to be at the hospital early on Sunday.

Sunday

We have to be at the hospital for 8am on Sunday morning. We are shown into a room in the Early Pregnancy Unit, where I am examined again. Gary goes to stock up on supplies for the day; food, papers, magazines and a TV card, as we are in for a lot of sitting around (I think anything to try and distract us from what’s happening).

I am given the tablets at regular intervals. I have been having mild contractions all weekend but they become more intense. I am offered pain relief but I don’t want it. I need to feel what’s happening, to make it real, so my head can accept it. The nurses are concerned and try to get Gary to persuade me to have pain killers, but he tells them to let me deal with it in my own way. There’s not much more to tell; I pass more clots but I think I lost most of the pregnancy on Friday and Saturday.

Before we are allowed to leave that evening, we are booked in for a scan on Wednesday.

Wednesday

I am scanned and all traces of the pregnancy have gone. So that’s it…………. it’s a positive sign apparently, my body has worked efficiently. But I feel empty, a week ago we had no idea there was anything wrong and now there is no baby. I am advised to wait until my next period before we try again, if we want to.

September

I drive Gary mad for the next 4 weeks; one minute desperately wanting another baby and then saying never again. I am really selfish and don’t see that he is hurting too. But then my period arrives and it feels like a “fresh start”. We decide to try again and another 4 weeks later I’m pregnant.

The Pregnancy

We have a scan at the Early Pregnancy Unit, it’s strange and nerve racking to be back there. I have asked to be scanned at 7 weeks because I need peace of mind (they would have known the baby had died if I had a scan at 7 weeks last time).  We are told everything is fine. After that we just have the routine appointments. But I don’t relax until I feel the baby moving.

Now

Olivia Eve (Livvy) enters the world 7 days after her due date. She is a beautiful, healthy baby. When her daddy holds her, he tells her that he didn’t realise just how much he wanted her until she was here. He was so scared something else would go wrong that he daren’t get excited about her arrival. Once I am back on the ward I have an “emotional moment”, I think I was just so thankful everything was ok, yet sad that we’d never know the other baby.

I am ashamed to say that I never realised how painful having a miscarriage was until it happened to us. It was something that happened to other people. The whole experience reinforced just how precious all our babies are. I know we are very lucky to have three wonderful children and that I got pregnant so quickly. How couples who aren’t so fortunate feel, well I can’t even imagine. We will never forget the baby that isn’t here with us. The day Livvy was born, the Remembrance Rose blossomed with the most amazing flowers, coincidence maybe…. but a very touching moment all the same.  

Read more information about a miscarriage >