I suffered a miscarriage in April 2011, it broke my heart as it firmly put a line under Monkey having a brother or sister. It was traumatic, it went on for a couple of weeks to ‘finally’ lose the baby. I think about my Poppy all the time.
In my mind, any miscarriage is a great loss, every family that experiences that loss should be shown some compassion. It’s not nice, its tragic, no matter how early on that loss occurs. I started bleeding a couple of days before my 12 week scan. I made the mistake of starting to bleed on a Saturday – how inconvenient. I rang 111 and waited for someone to call me back, I waited hours, I was in tears. Perhaps I should have gone to A&E, but I wasn’t dying was I. so I didn’t. I waited and waited and in the end I rang my Doctors’ out of hours service. I should have done that first. But you are told to ring 111. Anyway, I got a call back, it can be quite normal, don’t worry, book an appointment to see a Doctor on Monday and they’ll refer you for a scan.
A weekend of bleeding, of not knowing, of hoping, of crying. Monday and an appointment with the Doctor. Sure it’s all ok, but we’ll book you in for a scan on Wednesday. Wednesday. Home, distraught, in tears. Wednesday, no longer feeling pregnant, knowing in my heart, going to a normal scanning clinic, trying hard to be bright and breezy. Being asked to do a wee sample, it was tinged with blood, so distressing. Test showed positive, test was hormones ultimately lying to me.
Scan, we had Monkey with us, bad mistake. No heartbeat, have you got your dates right? Anyone who knows me knows what a silly question that is. Yes I am sure. Uum, well it can be normal not to see a heartbeat if you are only X weeks pregnant, the sack is a good shape. I knew I was further down the line. I knew it was over.
We were taken to a side room, only because I was so upset and said I couldn’t go back to the main waiting room. We were left in that room for absolutely ages. Left with a 2-year-old, a husband who had no idea what was going on and me, knowing.
Finally we were seen by a doctor, we want you to come back in a week for another scan. Why are you so upset? His exact words. It could all be fine, there is hope. I knew there wasn’t. So off we went, another week of bleeding, bleeding a bit more every day, watching my baby disappear.
This time I went prepared with a wee sample, silly me, it was full of blood. It wasn’t needed, but you hope, you pray. No heartbeat, sac not a good shape. Back to a side room, a quicker visit from the Doctor. Let nature take it’s course, tablets or procedure. I was drained, I can’t tell you how it feels to bleed like that every day. I want the procedure. I want it here at the local hospital I know. Well, it’s a national holiday because of the Royal Wedding on Friday, we can’t fit you in here, but you can go to the city hospital then. Ok, somewhere I hate, but never mind. I wanted it over. But if you start bleeding profusely call us straight away.
Well in the end, nature did take it’s course. That night I bled so heavily Daddy P rang the local hospital, bring her straight in to A&E. The nurse was lovely, she made me feel that it wasn’t just something that happens to a huge number of woman, it was happening to me. I was taken into another side room, the original doctor saw me, examined me, gave me pads. We’ll keep checking on you, but it looks as if you’ve now fully lost the baby.
We still had Monkey with us, the joys of not having my parents here. It was breakfast time. Daddy P took him off to find something to eat. Hours later I was moved to the main ward. On one side was a geriatric old lady, opposite a youngster with a whole hoard of family. I hadn’t been allowed a drink at all, finally they put me on a drip, I was dehydrated. I w.as distraught and wanted to be able to cry in peace. Wallow, yes wallow. Hard to do on a main ward. Daddy P and Monkey went home, there was no point in them being there all day. Not the place for a 2 year old.
You need to keep walking around the ward, with your drip stand, we need to see if you are still bleeding. You can walk up to the day room. Oh yes, I still remember that walk. I felt like I had a neon sign on my head -failure, defective, not really ill.
I got to watch the Royal Wedding at home. My dream of having Poppy was over. All I have left of my dream is my blue NHS folder. I can’t bring myself to let that go, even now. I know that people go through far greater loss. To give birth and lose the baby, to have a still birth. I can’t imagine the heartache that brings.
Like so many other women in this country I have gone through a miscarriage and I am wholeheartedly supporting the Mumsnet Miscarriage Care Campaign. I don’t want other women to wait longer than 24 hours for a scan, I don’t want other women to sit in a normal scan clinic. I want other women to be treated with a little more care and thought.
You can help too – have a look at the Mumsnet Miscarriage Care Campaign page to see who you can tweet/email. Share your experiences. You can also watch this beautifully made video to support the campaign.