Did you know one in four women miscarry? I didn’t. Not until November 2017 when I became a statistic.
I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I had been waiting to book an appointment for a blood test with my doctor, before I could have the blood test I needed to hand in a urine sample to be tested. Simply to rule out pregnancy. You can imagine my surprise when I called the doctor’s receptionist that morning to get the results and to make another appointment for a blood test, to then be told the words “it’s positive”. I almost fell over. I had never understood until that very moment why it’s always best to be sitting when your about to hear some shocking news. I hadn’t expected to be pregnant, the thought hadn’t even entered my mind. I definitely didn’t feel pregnant. But hey, turns out I definitely was. My first thought? I need to tell my mam. My second thought? My mam isn’t here to tell. My third thought? What the ***k am I going to do?
I remember the day I found out I miscarried. It was as little as 24 hours later. You see, that afternoon of the previous day I had went to the toilet at work and looked down to see blood. I immediately rang my doctor’s office to make an emergency appointment and the following morning I was sat in the early pregnancy unit waiting to have a scan.
I was nervous. I had spent a whole night hoping everything was okay. I had spent the whole night thinking I had life growing inside of me. I had spent the whole night worrying that I wasn’t ready but knowing that it didn’t matter because I knew I would be.
So it turns out that I was six weeks pregnant with something that was almost a fetus. Almost. But not quite. The gestation sac in my womb was measuring at 56mm which meant there definitely should of been something in there by this point but there wasn’t. I met with a consultant who made me aware of my options. I was naive, I thought because it wasn’t a fetus it wasn’t a real pregnancy and that whatever it was that was inside of me would just sort of evaporate eventually, I thought I could just go home. The consultant advised me that I could allow the pregnancy another two weeks to develop (this was more so for my own piece of mind). I told her I had no clue what to do and asked in her professional opinion did she see the pregnancy developing. She answered in her professional opinion, no. She hadn’t seen a gestation sac so big without a baby before. She explained to me that I had a fertilized egg which developed into the start of the pregnancy which led to the gestation sac. Just the fetus hadn’t started to grow properly. But my body still assumed there was a fetus growing so it was reacting just the same as if there was. The gestation sac would keep growing and it needed to come out. Nothing was going to just evaporate like I thought. I had to terminate the pregnancy.
Straight away I set myself below other women. I mean, some women plan to have babies and lose them almost 12 weeks into pregnancy, some women lose them as late as 20 weeks, some women give birth to still born babies. Who was I to be sad? I had 24 hours. 24 hours of wondering what being pregnant would be like, 24 hours of wondering what it would feel like to bring life into the world, 24 hours wondering how I would afford it (always one with the jokes, I know). My point is, 24 hours in the grand scheme of knowing your pregnant isn’t a lot in comparison to other women before miscarriage. I hadn’t known any different so what difference did it make? What right did I have to cry? I honestly believed I didn’t have one. I honestly thought my experience wasn’t anything in comparison to other women. I even told my sister I was never “really” pregnant.
I look that first tablet in the hospital and then made my way home. I made sure to buy sanitary towels on the way just in case of any bleeding as well as paracetamol just in case of any pain. I got home and ran a bath. Spoke to my best friend on the phone to tell her what happened. Before finally sitting in the bath and I cried. I cried for the loss of something I never knew I had to begin with. I cried for the loss of the life I thought I was going to have. I cried for the loss of an idea that was too good to be true.
And it wasn’t over yet…
Thanks for reading x