It's good to talk

For whatever reason, whether I blame myself for all of this, it is so easy to become a bit of a reclusive hermit during difficult times.

I have found I've turned in on myself.

I struggle to get out and about. I tire easily. Driving is making anxious. I hate being in public, fearing that everyone knows somehow.

I want to sleep but my mind is so active. Suddenly remembering something and wondering 'did that cause it', 'should I have done less of this' or maybe 'was it that thing I ate before I knew I was pregnant'. The cause could be anything; I guess I will never know.

But I am aware it is good to talk and I shouldn't keep myself holed up.

I messaged a lot of people to let them know the sad news.
I would be doing something and remember I should tell this person or that.
Nothing ever came to my mind all at once, it was little dribs and drabs. Like a fog lifting and being able to piece things together bit by bit.

People have been so kind.
I guess I was worried they might brush over this thinking it wasn't really anything significant or that I was ruining their day somehow by me telling the unfortunate outcome of my longed for pregnancy.

My immediate family have been there to support me. Bringing me cake or offering to sit with me.
My parents have been regular visitors to keep me busy.
The in-laws have been really good too in checking up on me and seeing what I have done that day.

The second week after my miscarriage, Caz had returned to work to try and find some normality, my parents had builders around fitting a bay window and my in-laws were away in France.
I was a bit anxious as it was the first time I had been left with just my thoughts for company.

I had received a few offers of people to come over just to chat, give me a hug or offers of meeting up for coffee.
In a way, I didn't want to see people. I knew I would break down.
I am able to talk about the miscarriage in passing. But it is when you focus in on it and then people are kind when they say something that really strikes a chord with you and makes sense with exactly how you are feeling.
I previously found, when I had been suffering from anxiety attacks, that when people were able to empathise with me that I felt understood and that in turn let my guard down and the flood gates to open.

But deep down, I knew it would be good for me. It would be difficult but in the long run, it would do the world of good.

One of my friends from work had been messaging me quite often.
It turns out miscarriage is more common than you realise. It afflicts 20 to 25% of people.
You feel you are very much alone in the battle and that no one else could possibly understand.
Miscarriage never enters normal conversation.
But I have discovered a few people who had had miscarriages that I was never aware of.
It is like a taboo, that you aren't meant to mention. But I really feel I want to tell the world about Jesse and how much they were loved and will forever be a part of our family.

I decided to try and meet up with one of my friends from work.
She had been messaging me saying she was thinking of me and that I didn't have to feel the need to reply, she just wanted me to know I had been in her thoughts and she had been worried about me.
It felt right to reach out to her ask if she would be free for coffee the next afternoon.
She was available and we met at a central location.

I chose to meet at a place I was familiar with - the Pavillion in Llanfairfechan.
(Llanfairfechan pictured below)

I used to live nearby and so was quite comfortable with the cafe there. It is right on the promenade looking out to sea where you can see some beautiful views, including back towards where I live now on Anglesey.
The sun was shining but it was really quite windy.
When I arrived she was outside, sitting at a table in the sun.
I parked up and walked over.
There were lots of comforting hugs and mutual tears over the loss.
She had brought along a lovely, colourful bunch of flowers for me. I knew this would add a little bit of colour back into my life during this greyed out time.

We went inside and ordered milky coffees, my first caffeine drink since being pregnant. I also spotted a lemon meringue in the chilled cabinet and my friend fancied a toasted teacake.

I felt a little awkward and uncertain at first.
Do you dwell on what has happened, but you don't want to set each other off with crying?
But the conversation was easy.
We talked about Jesse, work, holidays, anniversaries and everything else in between.
Quite quickly the time passed and we had been there for almost 2 hours.

I've now bitten the bullet and arranged to meet up with a lovely lady who runs the animal sanctuary I used to volunteer at.
Chatting with her was always easy. She has been through quite a lot in her life and experienced many things and welcomed me into her family. I have even had a drawing from her Grandson!
Seeing the animals too and catching up with that has been going on in the sanctuary since my pregnancy will be really therapeutic too.
Animals always understand, don't they? They know when to be gentle and give you company and know when to be boisterous and a bit of a laugh.
I will enjoy seeing the rabbits awaiting new homes and the owls recuperating from illness and injury.

Now, I need to build up the strength to announce the loss of Jesse to the world. It isn't that I am ashamed, in reality, I want to shout about Jesse from the rooftops. But it is more how do you find the right words and the right time?

Busy hands keep busy minds

One of the ways I have been trying to 'cope' is by doing chores and thinking about craft projects.
I have previously found that keeping my hands busy kept my mind busy.
If my mind is busy I will be unable to dwell on everything that is swirling around in my head.

I have been struggling to sleep and have found myself waking up in the middle of the night feeling overwhelmed by everything and just overcome with tears. When it is quiet I find I am hit by my emotions the most. Late at night or early in the morning, I am at my worst.

It is like you remember you aren't pregnant any more. It could be that you would love to be pregnant again but feel conflicted due to not wanting to replace the baby you lost or feeling incredibly nervous about if all this will happen again and you are destined not to have a child. Perhaps it is that you are uncertain your menstrual cycle will begin again and when it does will you be relieved that your body is getting back to normal (even if your mind is taking a lot longer to find normality) or terrified as it reminds you of losing your baby. There is also that niggling worry that time is marching on and it took well over a year to get pregnant in the first instance.

Somehow, despite never meeting my baby, I desperately miss Jesse. Not having a chance to trace the features of their face, put my finger in their hand to grip on to me, touch their toes as they curl up, hear the happy gurgles and giggles, heck even bawling their eyes out for some attention I miss.
It is so weird to lose something you actually never had. But the feeling of grief and loss is just the same.

First, I wiped everything down in the spare room.
I realised there was still plaster dust in there from when the room was decorated.
The windowsills, skirting boards, door frame, dressing table, bed, bookcase and bedside cabinet all were wiped with disinfectant to make sure it was all spick and span.

Everywhere was aired too. Bring in the fresh scents from the beautiful countryside.

I realised that the windows were quite misted up and could do with a good shine.

This house has been like a laundrette. Sets of bedding and several sets of towels have been washed, folded and put away in the ottoman.

I also spent a good few minutes podding some peas (unfortunately bought from the supermarket). It was quite a relaxing and rewarding task!

So often, my little office seems to be the dumping ground for everything that has been left on the dining table.

Well, I decided to do a micro-task. I set a timer on my phone for 5 minutes and saw what I could achieve in the time.

A fair bit as it turns out. Looking a lot neater and it is inspiring me to give my sewing machine a try (bought several years ago but never used) and to try and do some craft which I always put off as I am 'busy'.

I have a few projects I would like to try from continuing with my cross-stitch, learning to knit, perhaps giving crocheting a go, using my sewing machine, making greetings cards and possibly even attempting some jewellery making.

I will have to see what I try out in the coming weeks as I regain my strength and mental composure.

Saying Goodbye

In the short time we knew we were expecting a baby, Jesse managed to touch a lot of hearts.

We wanted to allow our immediate family a chance to also say goodbye.

On Sunday the 28th of August we had a small event to mark Jesse's passing.

Nana and Grandpa, Nain and Hugh, Auntie Elin and Granddad all attended to say goodbye.

Caz and I set up the scene - flowers were placed on the table, a candle was burning, a photo album with all our pregnancy moments, a memory box and the planter to be potted up.

People slowly started arriving and the buffet was being set up.
Everyone brought along a dish or two to add to the buffet.
There was quite a nice spread with sandwiches, quiche, pitta bread, crisps, cake and Bakewell tarts.

Everybody also brought along something they wanted to say to Jesse - a poem, prayer, song or quote.

We all gathered around the planter and each had our turn to read something to Jesse and then place the reading in a large wooden box we had bought as a memory box.

I read out the following quote:

Caz helped me read it when I was too choked up to continue.

Those who were too upset to read anything out placed it straight into the memory box.

Caz and I each wrote a letter to Jesse. We talked about how we much Jesse had wound their way into our heart from the very second we knew we were expecting. How we very much looked forward to welcoming Jesse into our little family and were so ready to become Mummy and Daddy. There were so many things we were planning on doing together. But Jesse will always be a part of our family and we will never forget.

After all our emotions had been spent, we went back in to recover with a lite bite.

Then we moved outside to each add some bedding plants to the planter.

It felt quite healing bringing a bit of colour and life back into our lives.

Caz watered the planter and we were finished. We had all had a chance to say our bit, pass on our love to Jesse and bond as a family.

Fly free little one.

Comforting words

How do you move on from having had your dreams shattered?
People may not 100% understand and won't know what to say.
You may hear "You are young, you can try again.", "At least you can get pregnant." or perhaps "You'll forget about it over time."
You wanted THAT Baby, not just A Baby. It may have taken years to get to being pregnant so knowing you might have that long struggle again is really disheartening. You will never forget - this is forever etched in your heart, you might move on but you carry this around with you for the rest of your life.

I knew I wanted to find some words of comfort to have around me.
I looked high and low for hours, crying many tears, to find something online that I could put up in what would have been the nursery.

There are key rings, ornaments, prints, cards you name it, it probably exists. Lots of items are probably bulk made but some of the nicer ones are handmade usually by individuals who have gone through what you are experiencing. They know how you feel and know exactly what to say. They have made their items out of the grief they felt and are now hoping it may help others heal too.

I eventually found a seller on Etsy who did prints on cards, Tshirts and posters. She specialised in Wedding gifts, Engagement Gifts, Pregnancy Announcements, Baby Announcements, Rainbow Baby Announcements, Nursery Decor, Little Girls Room Decor, Little Boy Room Decor, Anniversary Gifts, Memorial Prints, Miscarriage Keepsakes, Bereavement Gifts, Positive Quotes, Dog Lover Gifts, Rabbit Lover Gifts amongst others.
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/HangingMonkeyArts?ref=condensed_trust_header_title_items

In the category Baby + Infant Loss Gift, I found exactly what I was looking for; something that made me think of little Jesse but also feel hopeful about carrying on with this journey of life.
In the end, I bought 2 poster prints. One of the posters could be personalised, so put a note to the seller that I wanted it to say "Jesse Massey 15th of August 2017".

A few days later, I received a reinforced envelope.
Nervously, I opened the envelope. I knew this would probably set off a torrent of tears.
Inside were my 2 posters:

I discovered both posters had been personalised with Jesse's name and date of entry into the world. That was more than I'd expected. I was so happy to see this.

Then I found a beautiful notelet card in the package:

Now came the tears. The seller expressed her sympathies to me and wished my family the best.

A personal touch always goes above and beyond. It becomes that kind moment that you won't forget.

I am now looking forward to framing these prints. I have just the frames in mind.

A few months ago when I was on one of my regular trawls of the local charity shops, I found 2 wooden photo-frames that had been stained in a green colour. They currently had prints of ethereal fairies in them, but I imagined I might have photos printed off and put in the frames to display somewhere.

These frames have, I now realise, been professionally done and so I will need a few tools to get in and reseal the frames. 

Once this is done and the frames have been put in place in the nursery, I put up an update.

Marking Jesse's Passing

What do you do once you have miscarried?
I knew I wanted to do something to mark Jesse's passing. I couldn't just let it go by without acknowledging the occasion, no matter how saddening it may be.

After looking on forums and Facebook pages about miscarriage and lost babies I had a bit of an idea in my head.
We mentioned ideas to our parents and they actually helped us quite a bit with some extra research and talking to people who could make it happen.

Cremation was an option.
The hospital offered this but it would be in mass with all the other lost babies. You wouldn't be able to have any ashes to bring home. Caz and I felt like we wanted to have Jesse here with us.
We thought about contacting our local crematorium but wanted to exhaust other options first. I just couldn't really bear the possibility they would say Jesse was 'too small' to make any ashes for.

We discovered that the church in the village my husband grew up in was open to the possibility of burying the remains in a family grave.
The vicar was happy to do a naming ceremony too. But we had our hearts set on having Jesse here.

We didn't want to bury Jesse in the garden; we just couldn't 100% guarantee we would never move house. Yes, we designed and built it especially to have a family, but one day we might come across a place even more fitting, a small holding perhaps, or we might need to downsize as we get older or our health deteriorates.

But then I saw a few heartbroken families had bought planters and beautiful shrubs or trees to place in there with the baby's remains.
This felt like a real option for us. It would be like having a positive outcome from such a negative situation. Life coming about because of death. The plant would thrive from the lost soul placed beneath it.

Caz and I went on a mission to our local garden centre.
We were just wandering up and down the aisles until I saw these little wooden trinket boxes.
That might be perfect as a mini casket.
It was engraved with the word 'LOVE' across the top. It was a very fitting final resting place.

We then found a large planter in a lovely calming shade of bluey green. It was neutral enough to not be specifically for a boy or girl.
There were a few to choose from - some had dragon flies or swirling leaves embossed on them but we chose a butterfly.
I'd always felt butterflies had more meaning behind them. Remembering back to a novel I had read where this woman had lost her husband, she would be visited by butterflies. It would sit on her telephone or on a certain favourite object of hers and she felt it was her husband visiting.

Walking around all the plants, flowers, trees and shrubs we weren't really finding anything that struck us with inspiration.
Then I spotted this small shrub with variegated leaves. Looking closer, I noticed there were perfectly formed but tiny white flowers on the stems.
The shrub was called Luma Apiculata "Glanleam Gold". I had never heard of it before, but on reading the tag it said it was:

"An evergreen shrub with peeling cinnamon-brown and creamy white bark. Aromatic dark green leaves, margined creamy yellow with clusters of cup-shaped white flowers from July to October followed by purple berries around August."

It really caught our eye then and when it flowered and bore fruit would be perfect timing to when Jesse passed.

We also bought an Erigeron "Karvinskianus (Mexican Fleabane)" which looked daisy like with draping and trailing stems. It would look like a lovely little waterfall over the edge of the planter.

Along with this, we bought a pack of Violas to plant around the main flowering shrub. 

When we returned home, after the obligatory lunch out at the garden centre (we both had lasagna, mine was Parmesan and mushroom and Caz's beef), we set to work planting out the pot.

Firstly, we decided to put a few of our belongings in the wooden trinket along with Jesse so they were close to us and could have something to remember us by.

We cut up one of Caz's oldest, favourite t-shirts. I have known this t-shirt since I met him and haven't been able to make him part with it. This acted as the base, something comfy to place Jesse on.

On either side, we wanted to place a little keepsake from each of us. 

From me, there was a teddy bear pendant that I remember buying on a family holiday when I was about 11 or so and from Caz a guitar plectrum. Whenever I feel sad or lonely and want to know Caz is with me, even when he can't physically be there, I always ask him to give me a plectrum.

We gently placed Jesse in the centre and then over the top of it, we draped over a piece of one of my favourite scarves. It really smelt of me and felt so comforting and familiar. I knew it might bring comfort to little Jesse too.

I was still bleeding heavily and felt so drained, so, unfortunately, all I could do was watch Caz put in the plants.

 He collected small stones to place in the bottom of the planter to help drainage and then covered the stones with a layer of compost.

We tenderly put in the trinket box with Jesse in and each put a trowel of soil in over the top of it.
This felt very symbolic and reminded me of the earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust passage you hear during burials. I'm not religious, but I could almost hear the below going through my head.

"We commend unto thy hands of mercy, most merciful Father, the soul of this our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And we beseech thine infinite goodness to give us grace to live in thy fear and love and to die in thy favour, that when the judgement shall come which thou hast committed to thy well-beloved Son, both this our brother and we may be found acceptable in thy sight. Grant this, O merciful Father, for the sake of Jesus Christ, our only Saviour, Mediator, and Advocate.

Amen."

Our little family

Everything is so raw. The emotions, the pain.
I am still bleeding and just want this process to end.

Miscarriage is horrendous, you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy.
You don't just lose your pregnancy, you lose your Baby too and all your hopes and dreams with it.
You want to begin grieving but your body needs to heal.
How do you think? Can you even focus? What is happening?

Through all of these difficult thoughts, one thing I knew was we would regret certain things if we didn't do them.
One of these was holding the Baby and being with them.
But first a name.

We had shortlisted a few names already. We went through family trees and picked out names that had a nice ring to them or that elicited happy memories to us. You have to find a balance between both families - each has to be represented!

But this was different, this was special.
How do you find a name fitting enough to represent someone who tried so hard to grow but in the end had the grace to realise that this just wasn't meant for them. They were ready to go even if you weren't.
We also didn't know if the Baby was a boy or a girl. What is a neutral enough name?
Then it just came to me. What about Jesse?
I discovered that Jesse means "Gift".
A gift is what they were.
A gift to us to make us a family.
We became a Mum and Dad because of the Baby, it is just that they were our Angel Baby.
They also gifted to us a new perspective and a will to carry on.
We've become more resilient and our bond stronger.

Now on to holding our little Jesse.
This has to be up there with some of the most incredibly difficult things I have ever done.

Your children shouldn't die before you, it just isn't the right way around.
You want to be able to hold your Baby when they are wriggling or kicking and screaming.
Not to just be this lifeless object.
But Jesse was once full of life and had a good go but just wasn't meant to be.

I've cropped these photos to not include Jesse, but just know our emotional eyes are gazing upon them. Our hearts were truly breaking to do this, but we will forever be grateful that we did.

Afterwards, we held each other and cried so much that our eyes hurt.
This shouldn't have happened, but it did. We have to accept that.
The sun continues to shine and everyone still goes about their business. Life carries on.
It is hugely different and not as you had planned but you have to move forward for your Baby's sake. To not let their passing just go to waste. Let it be a time to reflect on everything and then embrace life.
Easier said than done...!
We are now going through the process of picking up the pieces and trying to use this as a second chance. Each new blog post will be our little steps in getting back to some sense of normality, healing our hearts and one day, perhaps, expanding our family.
You never forget and you will always love your sweet Angel Baby.

Losing our Baby

*Disclaimer - this post contains sensitive content about miscarriage. If this is too raw or a possible trigger for you, please click back now.*

After miscarrying our Baby, we held each other and cried.

It was hard to fathom that this was actually happening to us. 

We felt so disconnected from the world and life itself.

I heard that you should put Baby's remains in the fridge to slow down the process of decay. This would give us a chance to work out our options and how we could best give a fitting tribute to the very much wanted and loved little Baby.

I phoned the GP and booked an appointment for 9 am. I knew we were meant to be going for a scan now, but seeing the Baby had been lost, I didn't really see the point.

Caz took me to the doctor and she was sympathetic but quite to the point. 

She wanted us to go to the scan anyway to check if there were 'any remaining products in the uterus'. 

I know that would be the technical term, but it is so cold when to us this little 11 weeks 6-days old being was our Baby. 

You love them from the moment you realise you are pregnant.

So we went to the hospital anyway and were sent to the gynaecological and breast surgery ward. 

There we met a staff nurse called Gail. She was like a mother hen - wrapping you up and being very kind. 

We had an initial assessment by a nurse called Hannah. She wanted to see if a scan was necessary. When I said that I had passed a pregnancy sac she looked at me with a bit of shock and filled in the slip to have the scan.

Downstairs we went to the ultrasound unit. In there were 2 men waiting for some form of a scan, a young teen occupying himself and a happy couple waiting for photographs from their dating scan.

I tried not to dwell on anything as I knew I would cry. 

Caz was with me every step of the way but I asked him not to hold my hand as I knew I would crumble.

In the scanning room, there was a sonographer and a student. I am always happy for students to stay as they have to learn somehow. 

After lifting my top to expose my abdomen, cold jelly was applied. 

"Do you have a pelvic kidney?" the sonographer asked in a bit of surprise. 

"Oh yes, sorry I forgot to mention, I had a kidney transplant in 2011". 

They would check the health of my kidney while they checked out the viability of my pregnancy. 

I knew 100% that it was gone. 

She said she couldn't see any signs of pregnancy but wanted to use the internal camera too just to check. 

After stripping from the waist down (again) and dressed in the gown, I sat on this foam wedge with my feet together and knees splayed. 

Bejesus, the probe looked vast. 

She inserted the probe and pointed it this way and that and after a few minutes confirmed that the pregnancy had gone but it looked like some clots still remained. She would write a report and put it in my file. She offered her condolences.

We returned back upstairs to the ward and waited on the results. A junior doctor called Hayley, along with nurse Hannah both saw me and wanted to do a physical exam. They said they were sorry that we had lost our Baby.

For the 3rd time in less than 24 hours, I had to strip from the waist down and be poked and prodded yet again.

She first wanted to check the softness of the cervix. For this, she had to insert a gloved finger into me. 

Then she used the speculum to look inside and confirmed it looked like there was no remaining tissue and just a few clots to pass. 

They did 3 swabs to check for infections to rule out any other potential reasons for the miscarriage to have happened. One was for chlamydia (I think), another to check the health of the cervix and the last to check the vagina.

Hayley confirmed that 1 in 4 women have a miscarriage. 

I didn't realise the statistics were so high. 

You think that this is just something that happens to other people, and only a handful for that matter. 

This was too many lost Babies in my opinion. How could life be so cruel? I'd always thought it would be the getting pregnant that was the hard part not in trying to stay pregnant.

We waited again for staff nurse Gail to discharge me and she handed us a leaflet and a few blood tests. I had to have one set of blood tests there and then and another set in 48 hours. Then in 3 weeks, I had to do a pregnancy test to confirm 'all the tissue was gone'. 

Why do you have to go for all these tests and be poked and prodded for, in my case, the best part of 3 hours? 

I was tired, I was emotional, I was bleeding and my body ached. 

All I wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball and give up. I didn't want to be sat around in a hospital feeling that all dignity had left me and I was just some interesting test subject.

Why do medical professionals not realise how deeply this entire process will affect you? 

I had lost my pregnancy, we had lost our Baby and all our hopes and dreams had been lost with it.  

At no point do they consider you emotional and mental well-being. 

You have gone through sudden, unexpected trauma as well as losing a loved one. 

You will grieve and you will be hurting in more ways than one. 

Bereavement counselling would be such a huge help in this process. Maybe not everyone would want this level of assistance but it would be a thousand times better than receiving a badly photocopied leaflet on miscarriage.

The cause of the miscarriage might never be known.

It could be that the egg or sperm had a fault. Perhaps the Baby had some deformity. 

But it wasn't our fault. It wasn't anything we had done or not done. We did everything within our power the right way. We were eating healthily and keeping active. But still, you feel guilty and wonder why. 

Thinking in this way doesn't help. It just keeps you dwelling on the problem. You can't change the past, you don't know what the future holds but you can focus on the here and now.

For our sake and to honour the passing of our Baby, we knew we needed to keep going. 

It is difficult but little by little, day by day things do improve.

In time you will move forward, you will smile again and it will feel easier. 

You won't ever forget but you will find a way to survive.

Dreams turning to Dust

*Disclaimer - this post contains sensitive content about miscarriage. If this is too raw or a possible trigger for you, please click back now.*

On Saturday the 12th of August, I began to have some light spotting. I told Caz but he immediately started to flap. I needed us to be calm otherwise I knew I would break down. I just didn't know what was happening or why.

Typically, emergencies do also happen outside of the normal working hours of Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. So just when you need them, no one is available to contact. I managed to find the emergency midwife number and gave them a ring. They reassured me that this could be quite normal and that unless I was saturating the pad every hour then there was no need for them to see me. That I should just keep an eye on it and take paracetamol if the pain was too much. They also let me know that there were no scanning facilities open in the hospital over the weekend so they couldn't check even if they wanted to.

I tried to put it to the back of my mind, but when you see small clots on the toilet paper as you wipe you can't help but feel panicked.

By Sunday I started to experience a dull ache low in my abdomen. Now the spotting had turned to more of a brown coloured discharge and was getting more and more clear during the day. I felt quite hopeful that perhaps this was just a warning sign to ease back at work and let someone else have the stress for a change rather than me taking the full burden on my shoulders.

Come Monday the blood had turned more fresh and heavier. The pain was also intensifying. I was so scared and didn't know what to do. I really had a sense of foreboding.
I phoned the emergency midwife back and she said it would be better to wait until 9 to phone my usual midwife or to ring the GP.
The GP surgery reminded me that I had to call at 8 am if I wanted an appointment that day. When I told them it was due to bleeding during pregnancy they were a little more sympathetic and managed to find a slot at 5 pm.
I also got through to my midwife and she said pretty much exactly the same as the emergency midwife. It wasn't reassuring. I knew something bad was happening. I also knew that even during my heavy periods that not much blood leaked through on to the pad. It was only when I go to the bathroom that anything passed. I sensed that even if this was a miscarriage, that I wouldn't be bleeding as much as they said I should as it would only pass when I go to the bathroom. I just needed someone to listen to my worries and take me seriously.

Caz came with me to the GP appointment. We checked in on the machine in the foyer and then waited to be called.
A nice GP, Dr. Morris, I hadn't seen before took care of me. He listened to me attentively and was really quite sympathetic and the most human medical professional I had met in a long time. He wanted to do a physical examination and check out if my cervix was open or closed as that would give a more definitive answer. He called the nurse through as a chaperone and I stripped from the waist down. I didn't feel cringe or awkward, I just wanted to have answers.
It looked like the cervix was closed. A potentially good sign, even though Caz and I both knew in our gut that this was a miscarriage, but he wanted me to go for a scan at 10 am on Tuesday to 100% be sure.

At bedtime, Caz wanted to put bio-oil on my belly as he had been doing each night for weeks. I snapped "what is the point?" and burst into tears.
We both knew this was it.
The last chance to do something nice for the Baby.
He rubbed the oil in tenderly and the smell was so familiar that it was comforting.
I asked him if he could kiss my belly. It just popped into my head that if he missed this opportunity that he might regret it in weeks to come.
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my slightly bulging belly.
We both cried hot and emotional tears and held each other to fall asleep.

During that night I had so much cramping in my belly. I couldn't get comfortable and didn't sleep well at all.
I woke up quite early and ended up sitting on the toilet for what felt like an age. My stomach was just aching so much and blood was seemingly streaming out of me. I then felt myself go pale like the blood just rushed from my head. I was feeling so weak and was slumped back against the cistern of the toilet. I honestly thought I might black out. But the pain eased and I left the bathroom.
We then both got up at that point and went downstairs.
I needed the toilet again. I was getting more and more nervous each time I went to the toilet in case this time it was the end.
This time I felt a large clot pass through. I remember thinking I wonder if that was the Baby.
I felt another clot pass. When I wiped I ensured I didn't throw the paper down the bowl.
I looked in but couldn't really tell.
Taking my birthstone opal ring off, I reached in and felt a warm round object. I hooked it out with my hand and shouted for Caz. He came in and jumped into action. With some tissue paper, he stopped this item from falling back into the toilet while I went to the kitchen and got a brand new Tupperware pot to place it in.

I had lost our Baby.

Looking at it, it was like a little water balloon.
It was about 4-6cm in diameter.
There was pinky gray tissue at one end and it was a clear sac filled with fluid.
You couldn't really see through into it, but I knew our little Baby was in there.

We were now a Mummy and Daddy to an Angel Baby.

Pregnant Lady

I visited my GP on the same day I had my second positive pregnancy test. He referred me to the obstetrician and said I'd receive a letter in the post.

At 8 weeks I had my first obs/gynae appointment. Unfortunately, they weren't able to do much for me as I didn't have handheld notes and hadn't yet seen my community midwife. It turns out the GP jumped the gun and missed a step in the process.

I was surprised by my changing shape. By 5 weeks I was so bloated! I was already unable to do up my jeans and had to wear leggings all the time! I felt in the fat stage of pregnancy. Not quite a baby bump but more than having eaten too much!
Below are the pictures we took every Sunday to try and show the changes in my body. I'm not sure there is much change, but here are the pics anyway!

4 weeks

5 weeks

6 weeks

7 weeks

8 weeks (night away!)

10 weeks (missed a picture)

11 weeks

 

I loved that my boobs were increasing a bit too. I'd always been pretty flat chested before so this would be novel!

Almost a fortnight later I finally met my midwife. She was friendly and nice but maybe not the most useful to me. With my health conditions, she really didn't know how to advise me or answer any of my questions. But she gave me my handheld notes and lots of other information including a big easy to digest guide on the bump to baby.
We were informed that due to my health that I'd be classed as high risk. I would have my care led by the obstetrician due to the complexities.
I was also put on a low dose aspirin due to being at a higher risk of preeclampsia.

I cut out all caffeine as although you can have a couple cups of tea or a filter coffee a day, I didn't want to risk it.
I was trying to keep active and had downloaded an app called prenatal which gave you suitable exercises, in an interval training format, for each trimester of pregnancy.
I had also downloaded an app Glow Nurture which tracked your pregnancy and gave you useful information and articles each day. It was fascinating watching the baby change. From a poppy seed to a jelly bean and through to a lime!
I didn't have morning sickness. I know this is considered lucky but I would have given anything to know 100% that my pregnancy was really happening. I had to keep reminding myself that I'd had a positive pregnancy test and hadn't had a period since May and so was still actually pregnant.
I didn't have any cravings either. I just wanted to eat fruit, veg, wholemeal and dairy products all the time. At least they were healthy!

We bought a few little vests, baby grows and sleep suits for baby. 

My Mum went crazy and bought so many things! Bath toys, bibs, dribble bibs, clothes - my parents even dug out my old crockery and books from when I was a baby! They were definitely excited at the prospect of becoming Grandparents. They'd already decided they wanted to be called Grandpa and Nana.!

We had expected to have had an early scan to check everything was okay, what with me being high risk. But I had to chase to even get my 12 dating scan done. By the time it was arranged, I would be 13 weeks.

All the chasing of medical professionals, chasing for scans and such made me feel so stressed. I worried about worrying pretty much incase it would have a detrimental effect on our baby. I knew they could pick up on emotions and wanted to do everything I could to just relax.

Caz surprised me with dinner out at a local Italian restaurant. It was so unexpected and such a sweet thing to do.

We started to slowly sort out the spare bedroom. It was basically the dumping ground for boxes and bags of things that didn't have homes. 

After going through the boxes we worked out what we wanted to keep, where things could now live. Plus we found lots of pieces that were ready for the tip or to be taken to the charity shop.
As always with tidying, it got worse before it got better!

We heard from one of our sets of good friends, Rob and Eileen (and their 2 years 9-month-old daughter, Cadi) that they were visiting from Berlin. But due to a double booking, they wouldn't be able to stay with Rob's parents and so they asked if they could stay with us. Luckily we had cleared the spare room so just had to make it a little more homely for their stay.

Pressures were also piling on at work. I'd applied for an internal vacancy and for the interview I had to prepare a 10-minute presentation. Not the easiest of tasks when you have baby brain kicking in.
We also knew I'd need backup at work with going on maternity in a matter of months and so they hired in a temp that I needed to train. It was a very difficult and thankless task that added to my stresses.
I was starting to struggle to get up and feel motivated. I kept just saying "I can't" in relation to going to work and doing my job.
On one occasion, Caz was off for the day and realised I'd forgotten to take in the biscuits I'd baked for work for a bake off competition. My head was so full of thoughts and worries that I was too distracted to notice I'd forgotten the biscuits. 

Caz popped them over to work and I ended up sat in his car bawling my eyes out. I was literally having a panic attack about being at work. I managed to go back in, but hated every minute of it and couldn't wait to return to my safe haven at home.

I decided something needed to change and I planned to visit the GP on Monday about struggling with depression and anxiety. I'd been blighted by anxiety in the past and had seen a psychologist, so I knew talking would help. Whether the doctor felt it was best I had some talking therapy, medications or even being signed off from work for a short period, whatever he felt was needed I would do.
I'd also taken matters into my own hands and signed up for a mindfulness course at my local university, but that doesn't start until September. I had previously bought a mindfulness book, ba8-week an 8 week course, but had struggled to get past week 4. I knew I needed a little extra guidance and motivation.

I want to sort my head out once and for all, for my baby's sake.