The Loneliest Day

It was August 21st 2015. We had the keys to our new house! We had finally got onto the property ladder and owned our own home! My husband was on his way and I just sat on the empty floor, so excited we now had our forever home! I had been feeling funny for a week now and had the test in my bag. I excitedly went to the bathroom and sure enough – the words stared right back at me ‘Pregnant.’ When my husband arrived, we just hugged and cried with happiness. We stood in one of the spare rooms – this would be our baby’s room! We were going to be a family.The weeks past and I felt awful. My hormones had made me into an irrational scary woman and the nausea was just, ergh! My whole body just swelled and quite frankly, if my boobs were this big now, I would have to erect scaffolding come 40 weeks! The feeling was amazing though, the thought of a little person entering our lives, just made everything else irrelevant. We hadn’t been trying for long, but I had wanted to be a Mum since I was a little girl! My dreams were finally coming true. Life was perfect.

I began to feel very uncomfortable. I know they said you would feel lots of tugging, as the baby gets comfy, but this was pain. The next morning, I thought I was going a bit mad – had my boobs shrunk?? Maybe I was just getting used to the size? I had my appointment come through for my 12-week scan and my exemption certificate for prescriptions – eek, it was feeling real now! I was nearly 10 weeks, not long until the scan!

I couldn’t shake a nagging feeling though. My boobs felt quite back to normal and I was sure the swelling in my body had gone down. I was also less scary, hormonal wise and felt quite back to normal. Maybe it was all in my head? Or maybe you just feel like this as you’re getting to the end of the first trimester?

I had my first mid wife appointment that morning. I walked out of the doctor’s surgery, with my pregnancy pack, in the bright pink bag it came in! I clocked a neighbour in the waiting room, but just kept walking – oh well, even if they did see, I’d be able to tell people very soon! My Mum and Dad came around that afternoon to help finish some painting. Then everything changed.

I went to the toilet and saw, what every pregnant woman dreads – I was spotting. Well, this could be normal, they say spotting can be very common and some women even bleed quite a bit. But it didn’t stop. I rang the doctors and they told me to go straight to A & E. Surely this isn’t going to be, what I thought it was, was it? My husband was over a 40-minute drive away at work, so my Dad drove me to the hospital. As soon as we got to A & E I collapsed on the floor. A nurse, who happened to be walking by, just scooped me up and took me into a room.

The nurse was lovely and gave me a hug. We wouldn’t know anything for sure until I had a scan. So, they popped me in a wheelchair and the porter took me down. My wheelchair was parked in the waiting room and the porter left. I was on my own. I looked around and soon realised, I was in the maternity wing. Expectant Mums, with their bumps, going in to see their babies on the screen. I felt sick. Don’t cry, don’t cry. I looked straight ahead at a notice board to distract myself – ‘What your baby looks like at 20 weeks.’ Oh god, I was surrounded. I was in a wheelchair and bleeding badly – I couldn’t move. It was the loneliest 15 minutes of my life. I felt invisible. I witnessed couples coming and going from the rooms, with their scan pictures and beaming smiles. I just sat there, broken, alone. I just let the tears flow, I put my head down. I really didn’t want to ruin a couple’s happy moment. I felt trapped. Finally, someone came and I was wheeled into the room.

‘I’m so sorry’, she said. ‘I can’t detect the heartbeat.’ She was only telling me, what I already knew, but the words sounded so harsh. There was no reason. It’s just one of those things, apparently. I was wheeled back into the waiting room and just stared into space. I was numb. I was taken to another room in the maternity wing. Something to do with my blood, but I wasn’t really listening. I stumbled down the short corridor to the toilet. As I entered the cubicle, I felt the most peculiar feeling, like I had a small urge to push. What happened next, I won’t detail, but the nurse came and it was confirmed. I had passed the baby sac. I had no idea, you passed something. I just fell to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably.

I got taken to the room again to have any blood clots removed and then that was it. I was free to go home. The nurse was lovely and I got another hug. I looked at my Husband, I was so sorry. I lost his baby and had no idea why. I had let him down. He just hugged me, as I cried and cried.

We arrived home and my bright pink pregnancy pack was still on the coffee table. I felt like a fraud. I had been to the mid wife this morning, planning the birth – but there would never have been a birth. The spare room seemed more empty than ever now. The whole house felt different.

I was signed off work for 2 weeks. The physical side, I could handle. What I couldn’t handle, was how I felt. I felt as though my baby had literally been snatched out of my stomach and I had no control. I couldn’t even look at babies on the TV and felt so guilty. News of births and pregnancies on social media made me feel worse. Of course, I was happy for these people, of course I was. But I also felt jealous, upset, heartbroken. It should have been me, making an announcement too. I had already planned the words in my head, but now, it was all gone. My body felt completely back to normal and I had to do another pregnancy test, to make sure everything had gone. The words felt like my worst enemy ‘Not Pregnant.’

My due date was 26th April but I had to face Mothers Day first. I felt worse and worse. I missed that nausea feeling, I missed being hormonal. I missed feeling something. I wracked my brains, as to what I had done wrong. I just couldn’t understand it. I would have loved my baby so much, why had they been taken from me? My arms felt empty. There was no baby. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt.

Everyone was so lovely and no comments were meant to upset me. There is just a lack of awareness. No one knows how it feels, as you’re not to supposed to talk about it are you? ‘Never mind, you can try again,’ ‘Sorry it didn’t take this time,’ ‘It obviously wasn’t meant to be.’ How could I be grieving someone who was never here? But I was grieving. They were here. Their heart had beaten inside of me. My Husband and I decided to light a candle on my due date and we chose some words from the internet; ‘So Daddy don’t you look so sad, Mummy please don’t cry, I’m in the arms of angels now and they sing me lullabies. Although I’ve never breathed your air, or gazed into your eyes, that doesn’t mean I never was, an Angel never dies.’

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*