It's a Motherfucker

I posted a piece about my miscarriage yesterday on Facebook. It was more about the experience of miscarriage rather than my own personal one – but of course it is personal as it must be. The last few days I have an urge (if that’s the right word) to be open about what had happened. Perhaps it was because I feel myself getting stronger. I think it’s also down to the weekend that just passed, it was a bit of a milestone for me.

I work for one charity and am involved on a volunteer basis with another – this weekend each had their biggest event of the year. When I was pregnant I had been so looking forward to the weekend so I could show off my bump to a large audience. I have always been a fan of the baby bump and of course the thoughts of my own bump to rub was almost too much to bare! As the weekend approached I felt really conscious that I had nothing to show of my pregnancy, and for those who I hadn't told they would have no idea of how everything had changed for me.

I find this concept so interesting. We look people in the eye every day and we really have no idea what is behind them. We treat people well, badly, rudely, kindly and we have no concept of how our behaviour towards them will affect them in that day. Having lost my mother when I a teenager I have been careful in my dealings with people, knowing that a brave face can look like a perfectly normal one to the person looking at it. As it turned out both events went extremely well, I was actually quite proud of myself but more than that I was grateful that I have a very full life and many people who enhance it.

Anyway back to the piece I shared on Facebook. I was apprehensive about sharing it – you never know how people receive such personal pieces and I have no doubt I have previously rolled my eyes at something I have seen. I wanted people reading it to know where it had come from. I wrote it as a person who is feeling more positive and optimistic about the future, but who remembered the fear of not feeling this way. The response was incredible, should I have been surprised? Perhaps not, people are nice which, sadly, is something that can be all too easily forgotten.

I received a number of private messages and mails, along with public comments of support and women sharing their experience. I felt validated in posting my message which in itself is quite sad, maybe it would have been better to be alone in my feelings. From the messages I received I learned that many women felt silenced, lonely and the word taboo was used a number of times. Isn’t that awful to think of? A person loses their child and somehow enters a world that can be labelled taboo. One woman said the response to her miscarriage had been negative, it hurt to hear that. My support system could not have been more encouraging, patient and kind. My family, my friends – every person I dealt with helped me to heal – for one woman to experience the opposite is one woman too many.

I’m not sure what can be done about this, what needs to be done and what I personally can do. Maybe with time I can figure out a way to help, or maybe the question is what is it that I am helping? Is everything perfectly fine with how we deal with miscarriages?

There are a few things I believe we humans could be better at doing. One is how we treat Mums & Dads who have had a miscarriage, the sensitivity and respect we give to their grieving. The weekend I miscarried we were also moving house…dreadful timing yes. My father-in-law came over to help, when I thanked him he replied ‘that’s what Grandads do’. I cried when he said that because I knew in that moment that he still thought of me as parent and my first baby, although unborn, would not be forgotten. Small things like that can be the difference between surviving a miscarriage and losing yourself to it.

Another is ridding the stigma surrounding them and, in my personal experience, around having an early miscarriage.

We all know that 12 weeks is a magical marker where we can stick on the microphone and publicly announce our pregnancy ‘Hear ye Hear ye’ etc.. I don’t really get that to be honest….but more of that again. However because of this golden rule of pregnancy when you do tell people before 12 weeks and then miscarry, there is a very gentle message whispered in the wind from some people that really you shouldn’t have told anyone yet now should you. There may even be a slight tilt of the head you would expect to get when you climb the wall you were told not to and then fall off.

Why is this?

Are they telling me that my baby didn’t exist before 12 weeks? That my hopes and dreams for this child were meaningless before 12 weeks. That the physical effects of the pregnancy on my body where phantom before 12 weeks? I hope not.

So why then should it make a difference that I tell you about all of these before 12 weeks? And why do we feel that a miscarriage before then should not be as cruel to the parents who experienced it?

All questions I have yet to answer and which maybe I never can. Conversations are good though and hopefully that Facebook post may lead to a rethink about what losing an unborn child means to the people who experience it.

Also as a side note: I’ve been listening to The Eels, It’s A Motherfucker…..I recommend it.

And then there were 2

First off if you feel people overshare on the internet this blog post is not for you. This is all about sharing. If you tend to roll your eyes and wish people could keep private information private then please close the page and return to your day. You are not welcome here.

If however you came about this page because, like me, you need to read about the pain, fear and isolation that miscarriage brings then I hope you get something from this. I hope at the very least you feel connected to someone else who has experienced your journey.

If you are pregnant try not be scared by my story. Look around you, look at all the people who once were babies. All the numbers point to your pregnancy being wonderful, healthy and ending with the greatest joy in your new child. This is for those of us who sadly did not get the same ending and the people who will be supporting us through it.

 Now that the introduction is over here is my story.

My Silent Miscarriage

The Emotional Truth

On Friday 28th August my husband and I went for a 10 week scan at a private scanning facility in Dublin. Leaving the house the last thing my husband said was 'Let's go see our baby'. I'll never forget that sentence, the reason I mention it is because that is where our frame of mind was. We were going to see our baby. We had booked a 10 week scan because we couldn't another 2 weeks to see our little future. 

During the scan it became apparent to me quite quickly that we were not seeing what we should be seeing. I saw my uterus, I saw the gestational sac but where my baby should have been, there was just vacuous space. I asked the sonographer where my baby was and why I couldn't see it. I didn't need her to answer. As I climbed off the bed and she wrote notes I looked at my husband. I clicked my fingers, banged my foot and really quietly said shit. What I wanted to do was peel off my skin, break open my ribcage and allow my heart to explode into pieces. That is no exaggeration, I felt the pain of restricting my heart from breaking as it wanted to break. 

We drove into Holles Street, my husband and I. The only sentence that touched the silence was 'I'm sorry' which we said to each other multiple times. Sorry for the pain each other was feeling, sorry that we had dared to believe, sorry that in our own pain we couldn't take away each others. Upon arrival in hospital we dodged the glances of the happier people, they also looked away as would I. When you are in that high it is too hard to be reminded that there can possibly be such a low. 

We met a nurse, I remember looking at her and feeling like I was a young child. I tried so hard not to cry, I tried to answer questions and to not to ruin her day by sobbing. At that moment in time all I wanted was the pregnancy to be out of me. I couldn't bare to be carrying around such a lie. My body had tricked me for weeks, made a fool of me and I wanted control back. I needed to just lie down, have it sorted out and wake up at a future date when we could smile again. I wanted control back.

Unfortunately that was not to be which I'll explain more of below. We were sent home to return the following Monday. As you can imagine sleep did not come that Friday night. I lay awake searching for answers, what would happen next. I wanted to read about the pain I was feeling, I didn't want to know that there would be other pregnancies, that 1 in 4 end like this. I wanted to know that it really was the end of the world. That people knew this was my 1 in 1, my 100%, I had lost the only pregnancy, the only baby I ever had and that it was not ok. I was looking for comfort in other peoples pain, maybe I'm weird or maybe that was just the depths of my grief.

The weekend that followed was sad. It was endless hours of shock and sadness but broken with the support and love of other people. We had told some family and friends about the pregnancy and let all our nearest and dearest know about the miscarriage. I cannot recommend this enough. You may be better at dealing with things in private and of course that is the best way for you, but if you are unsure, and if you have people who love you I would recommend sharing it with them. I felt very broken in the days that followed our news, I was unable to put on a brave face or keep up appearances and so in order for me to deal with what was happening I needed people to know. I needed them to expect nothing from me and to know that I wasn't being rude, distant or prickly, I was just grieving and all my energy was going to that.

Monday arrived and we met a lovely midwife who mothered us, something we greatly appreciated having both lost our mothers in years previous. She told me I was going to be angry with her but I would have to return a week later for another scan and then I would receive my options. This procedure is to give the pregnancy a chance which unfortunately for me was not needed, however it is a legal procedure which they must adhere to. The scan showed two sacs and one embryo, perhaps it had been a twin pregnancy but we won't know. She saw that some bleeding had started internally and so I may miscarry naturally. Again I was sent home with a longer wait ahead but with more information for me to process which helped.

The term silent miscarriage is because my body had continued to believe it was pregnant even though the pregnancy was not developing. I was told it was a good sign that my body really wanted to be pregnant. I did not feel that. Finding out at our scan felt cruel, I felt like a fraud, all those weeks acting pregnant when I wasn't. I wondered if maybe it was all in my head, had I made up the symptoms? Should I have known? I couldn't touch my stomach, I couldn't look at my body. It had fooled me so cruelly, I couldn't bare to be attached to the lie. Those feelings subsided, thankfully, I never blamed myself for the miscarriage but I still do struggle every so often with the feeling that I didn't know what was going on. Honestly I felt a tinge of embarrassment. How could I be so stupid and not notice? It was my body, surely I know when there is a baby growing and when there is not? Medically though my body did think it was pregnant, I try to remind myself of that. These were feelings my husband has been trying to help me with. He has been more than I could have wanted through all of this. I may write again about our partnership through this, I have been lucky to have a man that loves me, wants a family with me and so shooed away any regret I had for him being married to a woman who thought she was pregnant. 

The Physical Truth

I feel like this is important because we were sent home from the hospital on Friday with no information on what was to come. I know that the two things that could happen were a medical or natural miscarriage. The only way this could end would be in miscarriage however I had no idea/ have no idea what to expect from it. In my exhausted emotional state I started to really fear the physical side of this. 

I was worried about what we were meant to do if it started. How much blood loss was too much? How much pain was too much? What pain should occur? What pain is a sign that something is going wrong? The weekend seemed endless in time but thankfully I did not miscarry during it. We met the midwife Monday morning and she answered some questions below. I am sharing them with you incase you also have them.

The first thing she said was 'It will hurt, and you will bleed. You will need ibuprofen and paracetamol and very thick pads'. That helped, at least it gave me the information I needed to prepare for what was to come.

I asked if it starts at home should I come back in?

She replied that it was best to let it happen at home however if I had a moment of doubt or questions I was of course welcome to come back.

I asked how much blood loss would be too much?

She told me more than one pad soaked in 30 minutes. If I bleed more than that it would be worth returning.

Those two points of information calmed me greatly, small points but yet incredibly important. They told me I would not die, that pain was normal but either way I was welcome to return. 

Words 

Perhaps you are reading this because you know someone who is going through a miscarriage. For me personally I have not been offended by anything a person has said to help so please try not worry about the words you say. You are there, that is a big deal. I appreciate that their words have been said in kindness and by even wanting to speak with me they are putting themselves into a vulnerable position. Below are some things that I didn't really want to hear...but again that's just me and also I was not offended to hear them, it may give you insight into the thought process of the person you are speaking with.

That:

Miscarriages happen alot.

Man this feels like the end of the world right now, the fact they are common feels heartbreaking but really does not help me feel better, This was our baby, our pregnancy, March was our month to become a family. Statistics are meaningless at this moment in time. I want my pregnancy back.

You will go on to have a healthy baby

I do believe this is true however right now I had so many plans for this child I can't think of giving them to another. My first pregnancy ended without giving me my child, I'll never get that back no matter how many children I have. However I do know that we will be parents and I appreciated that people were just trying to help me see past this awful time. If someone is scared that their miscarriage means they can't carry a pregnancy soothe them with the truth that most people who experience miscarriage do go on to have healthy pregnancies and children.

What did help

When family and friends told me that it was awful; that they couldn't believe it was happening to us, that they couldn't imagine our heartbreak that really helped! For others to acknowledge the pain we were in felt so comforting. In those first few hours and days its hard to think past that specific moment in time and thoughts of the future are too much. Any words that acknowledged the loss genuinely helped make me stronger, I knew people weren't waiting for me to be back to my normal self, they were happy to be with me at my lowest time and would wait for me to return.

And now...

I am still at home waiting to miscarry, my next appointment is this week. Waiting to miscarry has been tormenting. I feel like I am under imminent threat, whether rightly or wrongly I have felt slightly trapped at home, worried to leave incase something should happen. Equally it is true that I have no great ambitions to leave the house. The whole process is cruel, its the only word I can think of that sits right. Miscarriage is cruel, waiting to miscarry is cruel. It does not discriminate, it does not give you answers but only questions. It tests your resolve to the extremes. As a woman it expects you to be both physically and emotionally strong enough to deal with it, it leaves no choices.

I never believed I would have one. For some reason I thought I would be spared which perhaps has added to the shock. Of course there is no reason I should have thought that. Getting pregnant is a miracle, it took us months and so why I should think I would be so lucky twice, to get pregnant and to keep it, I do not know. I do however have hope that next time will be different.

I plan to continue to write about my experience. In my opinion there is not enough information publicly available on miscarriages. Its hard to find out what really happens, how people really feel and I personally needed that. If you have questions about my experience please feel free to contact me, lets be honest no-one wants to be in the miscarriage community but in reality thousands of us are. We may as well help each other out.