The post I never wanted to write

I've started and restarted this blog post over 30 times and I  still feel Im not going to do it justice or properly articulate how I feel, this is the post that I never ever wanted to write.

I found out I was pregnant. Hooray, balloons, streamers, congrats, happy wishes - or so you would think but just 3 days after finding out I was pregnant, I started bleeding. At 9.30pm my world came crashing down. I cant stress enough that of course we weren't trying to have another baby as Paige is only 8 months old, it wasn't planned as such BUT we had always wanted 3 children and so despite it being a little sudden, it was most definitely wanted and already loved. I had yet to tell my husband as I was due to see the midwife. I just wanted to check everything was ok before I put mark through anything unnecessary (meaning the shock of us having ANOTHER baby), but ironically, the night before the appointment, at 9.30pm when I was lying on the sofa I felt something odd, like something had burst from underneath me and I instantly felt wet - as I reached down below in my trousers, there it was, a trickle of blood. My entire insides immediately ran cold and I felt physically sick. I had never experienced bleeding before so I just laid back down on the sofa in the hope that it would stop, or somehow I had made a terrible mistake and was imagining it. But it didn't stop, it started to gush. It felt like I was going for a wee, but of course I wasn't. I got up and the blood became to drip out; through my underwear, through my trousers and onto the rug below. I froze. I didn't know what to do - where do I go? what do I say? Mark was out at the time and with both girls nestled safely asleep upstairs. All I could think of doing was to ring 111 - they explained that I had to wait for a call from the on call dr but of course there could be a little wait. As I sat in my dining room, with blood flowing, my thoughts turned to the baby. The baby I knew I was losing. The baby that had shocked me, the baby that had come as a surprise but that would now be leaving me. I knew at that point I would have to call my husband home, and break the news - I was expecting but possibly losing it.

An hour had passed, and whilst waiting for the GP to call I had to break the news to Mark about him being a father again to also maybe dealing with losing the baby. It was both devastating having to tell him and see him deal with it. I just felt so guilty that it was my body doing this to the three of us (me, Mark ad baby) The GP had advised that I needed to go to A&E straight away. The drive there felt like the longest, through every turn in the road, I could feel the blood flowing out of me, soaking into another pad and I felt powerless, I didn't want to move as i suddenly felt it gush, I keep my legs crossed but upon uncrossing it would flow back out. My MIL who drove me to the hospital was amazing, she was someone who had been in a similar situation and I didn't need to make conversation with her - she just KNEW how I was feeling. Even when the tears flowed she just gently soothed me - there was nothing to be said, nothing to be discussed. When waiting at the hospital I began to think... surely, I had done this. I was the one who had carried on like normal, taken no pregnancy vitamins, I hadn't been kind to me body. My periods had stopped in January y'see and I saw a GP who said that my recent increase in dosage of my antidepressants was the cause of the delay/or stopping of my period (apparently its very known) and of course because I didn't believe I COULD be pregnant this soon after Paige I went along with it. So here I was feeling all the blame - could I have rested more? could I have taken more folic acid? could I have done something to make this happen to me? As the people filter in and out of A&E I wondered if anyone was trying to guess why I was in there? Did I look pregnant?
Hours seemed to drag by, blood tests, cannulas, admitting to the A&E ward and then being transferred to the gynecology ward all the while I could feel the life slipping away inside me. I know I should've tried to be more positive but in my heart of hearts something didnt feel right anymore. I wasn't allowed anything to eat or drink just in case I needed a procedure and in some ways I was secretly glad. I didn't want to go for a wee, I was scared. scared that everytime I sat on the toilet that id see more blood, and Id see my baby fall out of me. There was no longer any rational thought left in my head, and I was sure there would be no tears left. It's an odd one because as you're lying there in the hospital bed, just lying, waiting to hear the outcome there is often a few seconds where you feel fine, almost like a weird out of body experience, like none of this could be happening to you but then like a jolt , you are right back there.... in limbo hell.

I cant explain what it feels like to not know whether your baby is dead or alive. The waits were agonizing and when I was told that the head consultant I needed to see had just been rushed into surgery so you would have to wait it was even more agonizing, heartbreaking almost. I wanted someone, anyone to put me out of my misery. I know it wasn't their fault - hell, they were doing a great job but the minutes very quickly turned to hours, and I was exhausted - through crying and being awake all night. When the consultant was free, he explained that obviously the symptoms weren't looking good for me but they would do a ultrasound to confirm what we all suspected. Upon  entering the ultrasound room there was a room full of people, 5 different student doctors, my consultant and a nurse then obviously myself and my MIL - it was daunting, however all the student doctors asked whether it was ok to be there during this which I of course said yes - I was passed caring. My exact words were "can you just tell me my baby has died and let me go home"  I was sobbing uncontrollably and so was my MIL when the doctor began the ultrasound and his first words were "well your baby is alive" I coudn't believe what i was hearing it was an absolute shock, that feeling in the pit of your stomach where everything just drops. I couldn't believe my ears. He told me to face the screen and showed me the little baby bouncing around inside with its heart beating loudly away - so many questions flooded my mind: how? why? what? he moved the scanner along and said he could tell us why I had been bleeding. It was then that we found out I had miscarried a twin baby.

My heart broke - I was so emotionally split between grief and love all at the same time. I was beyond ecstatic that there was this little baby alive and well growing inside me but at the same time my other baby had died at 12+4 weeks old. Its brother or sister, another addition to our family. Even though I didn't know I was pregnant with twins prior to this it didn't mean I didn't love the being any less. I felt numb, shocked. The Dr looked at me like I should be so happy but in reality I felt nothing. I felt I couldn't smile, I'm not even sure if I felt relieved. I immediately felt like I was missing something in my life, something had been taken away from me too soon and I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to him/her. I had no clue where to go from thereon - what do I do now? and even now, 3 weeks down the line I have no idea how I'm feeling. I cant articulate how I feel - in conversations I feel it necessary to glaze over it - no-one wants to hear about miscarriage, no one wants to hear about a dead baby, noone wants to hear about how I walk around with two of the most beautiful daughters in my life yet still feel like something huge has been ripped from me.



I've had friends who have suffered miscarriages before and tried to be the best a friend I can be, but the reality is, I couldn't for the life of me EVER imagine what they're going through, it is only now that I can, in some small way, feel the way they must've been feeling. So here I am, stepping through the days in some hope this baby can survive all its been through, hoping that I can get through this pain that sneaks up on me every so often. I have two already beautiful girls and please dont think I dont appreciate that - because those girls are the ones holding me together right now, its not about them nor is it really about me - its about loss and I need to accept it, take my time over it, digest it and learn to carry on.