Friday, 15 May 2015

Two weeks

This week my baby would have been 14 weeks. We would've shared our happy news and surprise with everyone by now - work, family and friends.

Instead we're two weeks on from what right now feels like the worst day of my life. 

Friday 1st May 2015, when we went for what should have been our first scan, the 'safe' 12 weeks stage, we found out something very different.

Despite me having had no signs or symptoms (and just relieved to have reached 12 weeks!) the sonographer couldn't find a heartbeat and on measuring apologised and told us our baby had no heartbeat and judging by size it had died at around 8 weeks. 

A second lady came in to double check and confirm. 

I will never forget that scan experience for as long as I live. Me realising something was wrong as it was quiet, my partner concentrating on looking for something to see on the screen. 

1 in 4 women suffer a miscarriage, it is so very common in the first 12 weeks. I'd had a missed miscarriage (where the baby dies but you have no symptoms and the foetus remains within you), this apparently is a 1 in a 100 scenario. 

Images of scan photos tear me apart right now and just take me straight back to that room and moment. 

Another time I'll go into the whole NHS thing and how we were treated in our local hospital and what truly happens. How they make you feel. How they deal with you.

Im also considering sharing the experience of the route we went down (and are currently still going through now) called Medical Management. I've soon realised people don't talk about these things and you don't truly know what to expect. People think it's not something too big to get over as the 'baby' never truly existed, legally they don't exist and they weren't in the world as a human being outside of your body. 

The description given at the hospital was nowhere near what really happens. And after what I went through physically I know I would've appreciated being prepared (thank goodness for those close to me who have been through similar before as they've been priceless in their help, support and knowledge). 

It's only the second Friday since this happened, but I really wonder when I will ever again be able to get through a Friday morning without seeing that time 10.36. The timestamp on the only scan/photo we'll ever have of our first baby. Our scan was due at 10.05 and they were late and had kept us waiting, the time we went in was around 10.25 and our hearts were broken and our world destroyed in what must have been around 10 minutes of time. 

Not knowing what to think or do at the time, I'm now so glad we agreed to the scan photo we were given. At least we have something of our Little Seed.

We've had some absolutely amazingly supportive friends and family. 

Disappointingly we've also unpleasantly experienced the opposite in some rare cases too. Both our workplaces have been patient and kind. 

I wonder on a Wednesday if I'll ever make it through a whole day without thinking that was my new week marker day. When I'd check my Pregnancy App in secret on my commute to work or lunchbreak and look what to expect that week and the size that little person inside me now was. The progress they were making. 

My partner has seen a big change in me in this fortnight. I guess I can see some changes myself - being able to actually get out of bed (through pain/exhaustion as well as emotion) is a start!

Key milestones for me have been actually getting up and washed and dressed, that time I managed to put on makeup and even once paint my nails! That first step out the front door after days. Then gradually building up to some walks in our local country park. This week even I've made myself go to the gym (something I seem to be suffering for today somewhat though), I've decided to start eating healthy again and try exercise where I can in a bid to feel better and gain confidence again in my body. 

There are many awful side effects of the medicine and going through this, not least your body taking its time to realise you've lost the baby and your hormones need to return to normal (including your bloated and protruding lower stomach). 

In all honesty I don't feel I know my body right now, it's not mine. All it's been through and how I could carry something for 4 weeks and not know in any way it had died. I feel very out of touch with my body and right now I cannot stand how it looks and what it's going through. 

I can only hope trying to stop bingeing on junk to fill the void will at least help my body heal and get various parts of me fit and healthy. 

I've still not been brave enough to see anyone other than my partner, close family and the doctor. 

Time, time is what it takes I've been told and deep down I know this. When your body and emotions constantly clash and are at a mismatch this is very hard. I'm impatient as it is, let alone now.

Tomorrow we have a scan. A scan to check the medication has worked and - to be blunt - make sure there are no remains in my womb of what was a pregnancy. 

This feels a key marker in this tragic journey and I hope one that helps us move forward somewhat. I can only beg it doesn't reveal more issues or more procedures needed. 

To those of you who read this blog - whether as a regular reader or someone new. If you don't want to read this content or it brings you down, please feel free to hit close and don't read the blog for the timebeing. 

Those of you who have visited as new and have gone through similar or know someone who has I hope reading some of this helps in some way. 

I've found great comfort in sharing my thoughts briefly so far, alongside those close to me who have been there every day without fail with their messages and support. In addition reading others experiences, sayings or quotes and joining with others through various means - whether that be a Tweeter, an Instagram member or a blogger - have also helped me not feel so alone in my thoughts and experiences. 

It is not a cry for help or attention. I've got my fantastic fiancĂ© who is like no other, true friends and close family to help see me through this and offer their support, love and friendship. 

But sometimes in a society where miscarriages (especially 'early' ones) are kept so quiet, the health service offers little support or information (in mine and some others' experiences) and where unless you've been through it you never really know, sometimes you do need strangers to write/speak to and other means of grieving and working through your physical pain and emotional anguish.

I would hope people reading this respect that and either relate or understand. If you don't and you'd rather not read my blogs for now, again that's your choice. 

For now, whilst it continues to aid me - and I hope others - I'm going to try use my love of writing to get me through. My love of reading seems to have gone for now, I hope it will come back soon. 

To those of you already who have helped me - in whatever way - thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

Tiny step by tiny step, day by day, hour by hour, things are changing and thanks to those who've been through it and have chosen to share too, I know there are more positive days ahead, the old me is there somewhere and will return and my thoughts and body will feel mine once more. 

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