hereishoping
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2011
- Messages
- 235
- Reaction score
- 0
I apologise about the length of this post. Just needed to get out what is in my head. Thanks for reading x
Musing about miscarriage
We have all heard the statistics and I am sure we have all heard of friends colleagues or family who have suffered a miscarriage. In fact we have probably all sent a message or card of condolences but until you have lived through the ordeal it is hard to appreciate the emotional and physical implications of a miscarriage. After my first fairly uncomplicated first pregnancy I was probably as guilty as the next person of thinking that it would never happen to me. Dont get me wrong , I still took all the normal precautions... Ate healthily, avoided alcohol and caffeine, didn't carry any heavy bags etc. I had a bit of spotting around week 7 but at my 8 week midwife appointment she reassured me that this was normal and probably just implantation bleeding. All seemed fine for the next few weeks and I happily went off on my family holiday to France and for the first time ever i was looking forward to our return. knowing that we would have our 12 week scan the week that we returned. The holiday was fun, lots of quality family time and even found time to rest, not bad going with a 3 year old in tow. Our last night we had arranged to spend in a hotel close to the port. That evening I noticed some more spotting but again was unconcerned given my midwife's comments. I had a very restless night that night and started to suffer some cramping but it wasn't until that morning that the blood really started to flow. We were booked on the 10am ferry so just had to head straight to the port. Over the 8 hour crossing I did not really leave our cabin desperately hoping that the bleeding was nothing to worry about. I am a rhesus negative blood group and having hit the 12 week mark that day I knew that I needed to get an anti d injection. As soon as we were in UK mobile signal I called the midwife triage unit who confirmed that I needed to make my way into the hospital. Unfortunately anyone who is less than 16 weeks is not eligible to use the maternity ward so I was advised to attend a and e. The two hour drive home from the port was torture. By then I was in agony suffering the same level of contractions that I was when I was in labour with my son. I knew at that point that it was all over. My parents met us at a and e to take our son home and I then spent 4 hours in a and e sobbing my heart out waiting for the anti d jab. To my amazement the gynae doctor that came to see me could not offer an emergency scan until the Tuesday - 3 days time. After having the jab I was simply sent home and told to take paracetamol for the pain. My family were incredibly supportive and I was not on my own at any point over that period but I felt so alone. By then I was not only passing blood but also clots and lumps of tissue. Nobody around me would accept that my pregnancy had ended still clinging onto some kind of hope which had long since left me. The feeling of desperation, disbelief and emptiness were beyond words. This was not meant to be happening to me. I was meant to be coming home to my 12 week scan and finally being able to tell everyone the exciting news. The day of the scan arrived. An agonising wait in the waiting room while the two women in front of me came out relieved that their problems had not meant the end of their hopes and dreams. Could it be possible that by some miracle that I might get the same news? My name was called. I had not anticipated an internal scan. It was only a few seconds before the radiographer confirmed what I already knew. There was nothing left. My baby was gone and with it my hopes and dreams. We were taken to a private room and it was explained that I should not need surgical intervention but would need blood tests to monitor my hormone levels. The message home to waiting family was heartbreaking. This was not only my dreams but theirs as well but it was my body that had ruined everything that had not performed as it should have. I did not realise over the next few days how physically exhausted I would be. Not able to eat for this knot of anxiety and unhappiness in my stomach. The cramps eased over time and after 5 days the bleeding stopped but my emotions were still on a knife edge. I found my partners reaction hard to deal with. Almost carrying on life as normal. How could life be normal again? What was I meant to do now? The expectation is that a woman will deal with this pain in secret. But why? What am I meant to say to those that ask why I have not been at work, whether I had a nice holiday. In my mind the two are so connected that I can't answer yes to that question. Whilst my hormone levels were dropping according to my blood tests the levels were still higher than expected. Would I need surgery after all? What did it mean... Could the foetus still be in me somewhere? Even two weeks later a pregnancy test was still showing me as positive... Something that I find really hard to bear. I have lost my baby but my body still thinks I am pregnant. And that is where I am now still chemically pregnant but with nothing inside me. Life is getting a bit easier day by day but I still struggle with the loss of control and angry at the waste of time. 12 weeks of being pregnant and now another 6-8 weeks waiting for my first period before we try again. Little things being it back though. Remembering that it is OK to have that glass of wine that I am offered, remembering the thought process that I went through when I bought those new trousers thinking what a godsend that elasticated waistband would be. It is still easy to keep reliving not only the trauma of the miscarriage itself but also the pregnancy trying to find something that I should or shouldn't have done that could have made the difference. I just hope that we fall pregnant first time when we try again. I am not sure that I can cope with the disappointment of months of failed trying. Maybe you think it wrong of me to even be thinking about trying again but that is the only thing i can focus on and the only way that I can see that will make things OK again. I am scared for how this experience is going to impact on another pregnancy aware that the excitement of a positive pregnancy test will instead be replaced with anxiety. The hardest is not knowing why. If I don't know what happened last time how can I prevent it happening again? The simple answer is I can't. I am simply another statistic one that I don't want to be and never thought I would be.
Musing about miscarriage
We have all heard the statistics and I am sure we have all heard of friends colleagues or family who have suffered a miscarriage. In fact we have probably all sent a message or card of condolences but until you have lived through the ordeal it is hard to appreciate the emotional and physical implications of a miscarriage. After my first fairly uncomplicated first pregnancy I was probably as guilty as the next person of thinking that it would never happen to me. Dont get me wrong , I still took all the normal precautions... Ate healthily, avoided alcohol and caffeine, didn't carry any heavy bags etc. I had a bit of spotting around week 7 but at my 8 week midwife appointment she reassured me that this was normal and probably just implantation bleeding. All seemed fine for the next few weeks and I happily went off on my family holiday to France and for the first time ever i was looking forward to our return. knowing that we would have our 12 week scan the week that we returned. The holiday was fun, lots of quality family time and even found time to rest, not bad going with a 3 year old in tow. Our last night we had arranged to spend in a hotel close to the port. That evening I noticed some more spotting but again was unconcerned given my midwife's comments. I had a very restless night that night and started to suffer some cramping but it wasn't until that morning that the blood really started to flow. We were booked on the 10am ferry so just had to head straight to the port. Over the 8 hour crossing I did not really leave our cabin desperately hoping that the bleeding was nothing to worry about. I am a rhesus negative blood group and having hit the 12 week mark that day I knew that I needed to get an anti d injection. As soon as we were in UK mobile signal I called the midwife triage unit who confirmed that I needed to make my way into the hospital. Unfortunately anyone who is less than 16 weeks is not eligible to use the maternity ward so I was advised to attend a and e. The two hour drive home from the port was torture. By then I was in agony suffering the same level of contractions that I was when I was in labour with my son. I knew at that point that it was all over. My parents met us at a and e to take our son home and I then spent 4 hours in a and e sobbing my heart out waiting for the anti d jab. To my amazement the gynae doctor that came to see me could not offer an emergency scan until the Tuesday - 3 days time. After having the jab I was simply sent home and told to take paracetamol for the pain. My family were incredibly supportive and I was not on my own at any point over that period but I felt so alone. By then I was not only passing blood but also clots and lumps of tissue. Nobody around me would accept that my pregnancy had ended still clinging onto some kind of hope which had long since left me. The feeling of desperation, disbelief and emptiness were beyond words. This was not meant to be happening to me. I was meant to be coming home to my 12 week scan and finally being able to tell everyone the exciting news. The day of the scan arrived. An agonising wait in the waiting room while the two women in front of me came out relieved that their problems had not meant the end of their hopes and dreams. Could it be possible that by some miracle that I might get the same news? My name was called. I had not anticipated an internal scan. It was only a few seconds before the radiographer confirmed what I already knew. There was nothing left. My baby was gone and with it my hopes and dreams. We were taken to a private room and it was explained that I should not need surgical intervention but would need blood tests to monitor my hormone levels. The message home to waiting family was heartbreaking. This was not only my dreams but theirs as well but it was my body that had ruined everything that had not performed as it should have. I did not realise over the next few days how physically exhausted I would be. Not able to eat for this knot of anxiety and unhappiness in my stomach. The cramps eased over time and after 5 days the bleeding stopped but my emotions were still on a knife edge. I found my partners reaction hard to deal with. Almost carrying on life as normal. How could life be normal again? What was I meant to do now? The expectation is that a woman will deal with this pain in secret. But why? What am I meant to say to those that ask why I have not been at work, whether I had a nice holiday. In my mind the two are so connected that I can't answer yes to that question. Whilst my hormone levels were dropping according to my blood tests the levels were still higher than expected. Would I need surgery after all? What did it mean... Could the foetus still be in me somewhere? Even two weeks later a pregnancy test was still showing me as positive... Something that I find really hard to bear. I have lost my baby but my body still thinks I am pregnant. And that is where I am now still chemically pregnant but with nothing inside me. Life is getting a bit easier day by day but I still struggle with the loss of control and angry at the waste of time. 12 weeks of being pregnant and now another 6-8 weeks waiting for my first period before we try again. Little things being it back though. Remembering that it is OK to have that glass of wine that I am offered, remembering the thought process that I went through when I bought those new trousers thinking what a godsend that elasticated waistband would be. It is still easy to keep reliving not only the trauma of the miscarriage itself but also the pregnancy trying to find something that I should or shouldn't have done that could have made the difference. I just hope that we fall pregnant first time when we try again. I am not sure that I can cope with the disappointment of months of failed trying. Maybe you think it wrong of me to even be thinking about trying again but that is the only thing i can focus on and the only way that I can see that will make things OK again. I am scared for how this experience is going to impact on another pregnancy aware that the excitement of a positive pregnancy test will instead be replaced with anxiety. The hardest is not knowing why. If I don't know what happened last time how can I prevent it happening again? The simple answer is I can't. I am simply another statistic one that I don't want to be and never thought I would be.
and tell you that you're not alone.. although I know I feel so alone too!!!
I hoped I would be safe this time around. The statistics said that after a MC, I had only a 5% chance of having another one. It really sucks 
