Misery day - warning, potentially upsetting and a bit gross

Although I have warned you in the title it’s probably best to warn you again, as the story I am going to tell today is not a pleasant one. This is the story of my joyous pregnancy and devastating miscarriage at 10.5 weeks.

I became pregnant in September of last year when my boyfriend L kindly let me have a try on my birthday, and that was all it had taken to get a lovely, wonderful new exciting part of our lives started. We were understandably a little shocked given that we have both been surrounded by friends who have struggled to get pregnant for at least a few months if not years before finally having that special surprise.

I knew I was pregnant before I had even done a test, as I felt cramping when the implantation took place. L did not believe me until he saw the second positive test I took. He was both excited and scared and immediately began looking into houses, benefits, and how we were going to manage. Although we were excited we realised we had completely underestimated how much this would affect our lives. Upon seeing the cost of childcare, we made the decision that we would relocate to live nearer to L’s job to save on travel costs, and I was going to give up work for a while.

I was looking forward to some serious time off from my very stressful job but I was also anxious about money and moving to an unfamiliar place further away from my family where I only knew about 3 people. I also had problems with coming off my antidepressants after a stupid doctor suggested I should come straight off them with no weaning, but then on a subsequent appointment after having to take a week off work due to feeling crazy, crying all the time and constantly vomiting, told me I was stupid to have come straight off them and that I could have damaged my baby by doing so. All in all it was not the best pregnancy, filled with little worries and scares and lots of sickness, but I was starting to feel better and more myself after my booking in appointment at 9 weeks.

On a Friday in November I was home alone, the first night alone in a long time as L had gone to a work night out near work and was staying overnight at his parents’ house. I was happily ensconced on the sofa enjoying a Chinese and watching The Lovely Bones on tv. Just before bed I went to the loo and noticed a pinkish smear when I wiped. I panicked slightly but forced myself to believe it was ok, and just spotting. However, to be sure just before I went to bed I changed into white pants so I could keep an eye on things.

On Saturday morning L phoned me to chat before he set off. I then went to the loo and noticed there was a lot more blood, which I could actually identify as blood, and a clot came away. “That’s that then” I thought miserably, and then just started crying uncontrollably alone in the flat. I phoned my mum who suggested phoning the midwife, I phoned the midwife and she told me to go to A&E. L set off home as quickly as possible and then took me straight to the local A&E centre.

I had to wait an agonisingly long time before being asked to pee in a pot. While in there I noticed the bleeding was tailing off, and I started to feel hope. I had an internal investigation and was told my cervix was high up and very much closed, but that there was a nasty looking wound inside which had caused the bleeding, and that I was supposed to rest as much as possible and not do anything to aggravate the bleeding.

I was so relieved God I was so relieved! We travelled home in a cloud of exhaustion and relief and I went to bed. By the evening the bleeding had stopped, and I was looking forward to an early scan promised to me on the following Tuesday morning. I woke early on Sunday to find the bleeding had started again. But I didn't think anything of it, it was just the same thing again, so nothing to worry about. However, it started to get worse and worse with worsening cramps. I was desperate to just hold on until the Tuesday scan and so put myself to bed with a hot water bottle and hoped I could help by lying down.

I couldn’t sleep that Sunday night. I just lay in bed clutching my hot water bottle to my painful womb and cried. L got a little sleep but kept waking to comfort me. My cat, Tyra, stayed curled up on my sad, sore tummy all night keeping me safe and warm with her purrs. She never does this so she must have somehow got some animal sense that something was wrong and that her CatMum needed some healing purrs. I went to the loo at 4am and it felt like my entire insides fell out of me. It was the worst sensation I had ever felt. I knew there was lots of blood, I felt it covering me like red powder paint and I thought the baby was in the loo. I didn’t know what to do. There was blood everywhere. I screamed for L and he came and held me to him, even though I was sitting in such a mess with my pants around my ankles! We had never done anything like this before and I was upset to lose some of that mystery. We are not the sort to wee in front of each other! I made L look in the loo to see if he could see anything but it was just a red mess. I made the decision to flush the toilet and then insisted L take me to the hospital. 

When we arrived I was made to wait a little while but as it was so early it was a lot shorter wait than the previous day. They made me walk from the waiting room to the assessment centre and all the way i could feel the same thing happening, like my entire insides falling out of my body. I was just crying and could barely get my words out, so L had to tell the nurse what was wrong. When they realised i was unable to stand they put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me up to the gynae unit. They sent me to the loo to have a clean up, but there was too much blood again and i ended up having a panic attack, and the nurses had to come in and help me to clean up. 

I was shown to my hospital bed after a brief examination, wherein they decided it was quite serious, and while putting a canula in my hand i fainted onto the nurses massive boobs! Embarrassing but comfy. I spent the morning in bed following a morphine injection (thank God for the pain relief) while the doctors and nurses debated what to do. I was bleeding too much for them to move me to go and get a scan, but they needed to find out if my pregnancy was still viable before giving me any treatment. This went on for several hours with a clean up every 15 minutes until they did a blood test and the chief doctor on call was called to me as my blood count was 2/10. I kept passing out and my blood pressure was ridiculous. 

He reminded the staff that there was a portable scanning machine (duh) so they went and got it and tried to scan me both externally and internally, and they saw a heart beat. I was very upset as i heard "no fetal heart beat" but then they told me they had seen a little flicker and believed it was my baby! I was terrified but excited, and they wanted to get me downstairs to the scanning machine for a better scan to be sure. They wouldn't allow me to go down on my bed so i had to be transferred to a wheelie bed thing. While they turned me it felt as though something ripped deep inside my stomach. I was screaming and crying all the way down as i was in so much pain, and when we finally got scanned, me and L tightly holding hands, they found nothing but blood clots in me.

Following the scan, through a sea of tears I agreed to a blood transfusion, but following a temp check it was discovered that i had a very high temperature, most likely due to an infection from the baby. Everytime they got my temperature back down with paracetamol they ordered blood for me and by the time it arrived my temperature was up again. They eventually got it down in the middle of the night and gave me three units of blood. 

The next day, my Mum and sisters came to visit. Although this was nice i was completely out of it on morphine and wasnt sure what to say. It all seemed so sad. They noticed how pale i was and that my arms, fingers and face were incredibly swollen. I was attached to several monitoring machines and had two drips going into each arm. It must have been scary for them to see me like that. Unfortunately the nurses and doctiors left me alone while my family were there, and i could feel myself getting in more and more of a mess under the covers. I started to feel really faint again and so asked my family if i could sleep now, so if they left i hoped the nurses would come back. I dont know why i didnt ring the buzzer or ask my boyfriend to get help, but i presumed i was ok and lower prioroty than other emergency cases coming in. I sent L packing with an order of the books and foods i wanted him to bring, and then waited. 

Eventually a nurse came to check on me, then instantly ran out and whispered loudly to another nurse that it looked like a crime scene in my room and that i was covered in blood. They headed back towards me and started to clean me up but i was in more and more pain and started asking for more morphine. They called the doctor who came in to examine me, and she said she saw the baby! Even though they thought it had gone. 

At the time i hated her for the pain she put me through, but i have since come to realise it was an emergency sutuation. She tried to pull the baby from me with sponge forceps but i was screaming and screaming in agony. They decided to send me to theatre for the operation, but then started faffing around trying to take my blood pressure and do blood tests even though i was so swollen from blood and fluids there was no way they could get any veins. They finally sent me down to theatre asking them to take bloods while i was under the anaesthetic. 

Coming round form the op was heaven, and i quickly recovered taking only two more days in hospital before i was sent home with an arsenal of drugs.

Long, gruesome and traumatic story, im not sure what drove me to write it all out in such detail. I was off work for 6 weeks, we got a tiny ginger and white kitten called Billy from a rescue centre, but thats another story for another day. 

Just over two months later and I'm back at work. L wont let me try for another baby for now so I feel ratehr stuck. I am back at work, having not been allowed to escape, and surrounded by pregnant ladies and doing HR for pregnant ladies over the phone, and I am OK. Mostly. 

But i miss my little one so much. Even though it was only 10 1/2 weeks, even though i didnt know if it was a boy or a girl, even so... i miss it so. 

Pip xx

Welcome to the sad side.

So here it is, this is my baby-loss lost baby blog. I’ve been recommended to do this by my counsellor as talking about this to my family/friends I am greeted by sympathy faces but walled-off responses. “I’m sorry that you’re sad but I cannot cope with your sad and would rather you were just happy”. My friends just ask how I am in a meaningful way but I am aware everyone is really uncomfortable about this stuff so I am keeping it inside but that is not letting me unpack this hard, solid, screwed up mess inside of me.

I also want to be able to write through this part of my life as a reminder of how I have come through it, and hopefully eventually record my next pregnancy, whenever that may be, and the highs and the lows. I want to publish this stuff anonymously but will share it with others if I feel it might help them.

I don’t feel comfy writing on the discussion forums for miscarriage as it just seems to be such fresh pain there and a few replies and then nothing further. I feel real connection with the post on Glow in the Woods as this shows people’s transitions through their grief and gives me hope, but I don’t feel welcome there as my loss is different to there’s and I wouldn’t be welcome with mine despite how much I get from their postings. I really love reading the blogs and the beautiful things they say and reading of their bravery and their beautiful lost babies.

So this is my introduction post. I’m sorry if it’s boring, but I thought it would be best to get it out there and explain so if anyone is here by accident, which I highly doubt, you will know whether to read on or not.

Pip xx