Life After Miscarriage

It's coming up to 14 weeks since I miscarried, it's ironic how fast that time has gone in comparison to how slowly those 7 weeks of being pregnant ticked by. 

I would be coming up 22 weeks pregnant now, I would have a little bump. 

I would know if we were having another little boy, or a little girl.

We would be getting everything ready, buying baby clothes and planning the birth.

I would have had those first flutters, first kicks and everyone else would be able to feel the movements by now.

We would all be so excited.

We would be throwing names back and forth, maybe we would even know what we were going to call him or her. 

The reality is life is going on as normal. No body mentions the baby or what would be happening now. 

It's almost as though that part of my story never existed.

I feel like I am over the bitter side of things now, more or less anyway. 

In those first weeks I was incredibly bitter and angry, I most certainly did not want to be around pregnant ladies and their blossoming bellies. Admittedly though I can't help but scroll past pregnancy announcements on Facebook... I have spent longer staring at the images announcing babies due in the same month as what I would have been... But I haven't been able to bring myself to hit 'like'.

I was invited to my friends baby shower in September... But I really didn't want to go. I did stay away because I was quite honestly not ready for that.

I am feeling OK about everything now, but not a day goes by where I don't think about what happened and what should be happening now. 

I go over and over that night on July 30th in my head on a daily basis. I can see all the blood and I can smell it too, the smell of loss.

I can remember every detail, and it just goes round and round on replay in my mind.

Just before I had the miscarriage, I got into bed and sat up as if to get out of bed. I had a sharp pain that went up my tummy. It didn't last long, and I didn't think anything of it, one minute it was there.... And then it was gone. 

Around that same time, possibly even the same night... I had a dream. A dream where I was told that my baby had no heartbeat. I remember waking up feeling gutted and shrugging it off telling myself that it was just a dream, that I was being silly and everything was OK. 

I am absolutely certain that this was my body's way of telling me that my baby was already gone. 

It wasn't until after the viability scan though that I put the pieces together. I am a sucker for always looking on the bright side. 

Mentally and physically though I have recovered well. My first period came and went 6 weeks after the actual miscarriage, and was no different to how it was before I fell pregnant. People had told me how bad that very first period post miscarriage was, but for me everything went back to normal. Just like everyone around me.

Just like nothing had ever happened.

I have finally got back into my fitness, back to regular training and dog walks. This has definitely helped the endorphins flow and seeing the old Laura start to shine through has been just what I needed.

With all of the uncertainty surrounding our house move, I held on to our little baby. I didn't want to bury our little one at the house I was renting because I knew that I wouldn't be there forever. At that point I didn't want to bury the baby in a flower pot because I thought that very soon we would be in our forever home. A home where I would be able to make a big gesture and make everything super special.

If you have read my recent post though, you will know that our forever home is not possible right now. Which may lead you to wonder... What did I do with my baby after the miscarriage?

Well this may shock you, and I am still indifferent to have I feel about it. At this very moment in time, my baby and the gestational sac is in a plastic container in my freezer. 

This might sound strange, but honestly this was all I could think to do at that moment in time. I wasn't ready to party with the baby, I needed some time. 

Now I know that we won't be moving somewhere that I can bury the baby within the grounds under a special tree... I am drawn to the idea of a special indoor plant with a beautiful pot. I am aware that keeping my baby in the freezer is far from ideal, and I have felt such guilt over knowing how cold it is... All I need to do now if find the perfect plant and a pot fitting for our little one.

I should be buying a pram and blankets for our baby, but instead I am wondering what the most fitting tribute would be to tuck them up for eternity would be.

If you have any ideas of plants that have pretty flowers and come back every year, I am all ears, please leave your suggestions in the comments below.

I have also been looking at ways I can visually remember our baby, some people get tattoos or jewellery... But that wasn't for me. I recently discovered My Missing Peace - a company who make stunning remembrance items (and I have quite honestly never seen anything like this!).

I was drawn to the Remembrance Hearts, you can have these custom made. There are so many different colours, and you can choose a baby to add to the heart for the gestation you were when you lost the baby.

A lady in a Miscarriage Group I am a part of on Facebook had one bought for her by her other half, and I thought it was amazing. I managed to find the website and found an item that was actually in the sale (The company is based in Australia) so if you have them custom made it can take quite a while to receive it, so by choosing an item that was already made, it means I will have it quicker as it just needs to be sent.

I opted for the 7 Week Remembrance Heart in Galaxy, and cost me £48.00 including the delivery (It would have been more if I had opted to custom make my heart) but for me this is worth every single penny. 

I wanted and needed something that I could look at and visualise, I should be buying the world for my baby right now, but this is all I can do.

People have actually dared to ask me when I think I might have another baby (even when they know what happened in July), the reality is that it took 3 years for me to fall pregnant with Pop, and I am 30 now... So who knows if another baby in the future will even be a reality for me.

They say lightning doesn't strike twice, but I am terrified that it could.

A Tourettes Update

7 months ago Leo was diagnosed with Tourettes Syndrome, this was off the back of a particular tic that came into the equation just before Easter last April.

The squeal tic as it has come to be known in our house likes to materialise during periods of high anxiety for Leo. God I hate writing that my little boy suffers from anxiety, it really is something that i wish I could take away from him and make all OK. Unfortunately all I can do is be there for him, listen to him, advocate for him and help him navigate where we go from here.

As with everything in life, there is no magic potion that just fixes all of our problems and insecurities, but oh how I wish that there was.

Tic wise we had been doing incredibly well, the squeal tic that has materialised in April had faded to nothing over the course of a few months. Leo doesn't take medication, it was something that we decided wasn't essential at this stage (and I hate the idea of side effects), this was off the back of the diagnosis appointment.

We were pretty much tic free all over summer (apart from the usual motor tics that we just consider normality), but with the end of summer and the return to school on the horizon.... Leo's squeal tic came back for round 2, and it was more persistent and aggressive than ever before.

Leo's anxiety is based around his school life, he worries about the work expected of him and finds it difficult which in turn makes his anxiety heighten.

It's a vicious circle.

The week before Leo returned to school, we went to purchase his new school shoes for the coming term ahead. Leo chose the ones he wanted and we went on our merry way. That night after I read Leo his story and tucked him up into bed.... the squeal tic materialised. 

As soon as I heard it my heart sank. I knew he was feeling anxious about starting year 4 and unlike you and I....Leo can't contain that anxiety (and I keep telling him to just let those tics out, but due to the nature of the tic he gets very self conscious about them and attempts to hold them in).

With the return to school getting the closer, this particular tic kept getting more persistent. The squeals were relentless and always worse at night. On that first day back at school I discussed it with his new teacher (and thankfully she was already very aware about the Tourettes diagnosis), and at the end of the day I caught up with her again to be told that she hadn't heard the squeal tic at all that day...

That afternoon and into the evening, the tics kept coming and coming. They kept coming until he finally succumb to sleep. Which was well after 10pm that night despite having a relaxing lavender bath, story and being in bed fro 7pm!

Those first few weeks at school were horrendous, the squeals were constant, louder then ever and just kept coming one after another.

It was made even worse because he was holding the tics in at school, so when he came home and was in his safe place, the tics rolled out of him like someone had shaken up a bottle of Pepsi and then took off the lid. 

It is now November and the squeal tic is still here, it's been here for over 12 weeks. It has been varying in intensity over the last few weeks, and I was optimistic that we might be seeing a decrease in the severity of this particular tic, but over the last few days it seems to be heightening again. 

Although if you were to compare it to those first few weeks at school where I would certainly say it was charting a 10, it is now currently at more of a 6.

We popped to our local Aldi last night and Leo was ticcing as he went around. Yes he had some funny looks (as did I) but nobody said anything, and if they had dared I don't really think I would have been able to hold back. 

I am so fiercely protective of my boy, they would not have liked the response if they had dared tell me to make him stop.

It's the shop my brother works at, and he had already explained to a number of the people that he works with that Leo has Tourettes, so that made life a little easier. 

We have finally had our appointment through for Leo's first Paediatric appointment since the diagnosis, which I am really glad has come through. I was worrying that we had slipped through the cracks as the lady we saw for the diagnosis has now retired, but thankfully the letter arrived and we see the new Dr on November 19th.

I am still not ready to talk about medication, because I know that as soon as we can get Leo's anxiety back to a more realistic level.... We may very well see the demise of the squeal tic again. I do worry about every holiday that comes around now, because I know that with the return of school will come a wave of anxiety that we will ride for months at a time. 

That may very well be the reason that the tic is escalating more than it was because half term is almost up...

I have recently treated Leo to a aroma diffuser in his room that diffuses aroma therapy oils, and upgraded his night light to a bubble lamp, I am hoping that these small additions help to relax him.

 Another change we have implemented is a later bed time...I have done this because when I put him to bed at 7pm (like we always have) because he ends up staying awake later ticcing. If he stays awake later he is usually less ticcy and goes to sleep faster... and I like to think that the anxiety is less so he gets a better nights sleep.

If I am honest it is all trial and error at the moment, all I can do is continue to educate people about Tourettes and help Leo navigate his path. 

I will update again once we have had this next appointment, but I would like to try and get Leo in for some CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy) as I feel this will help him focus his attention and maybe help him combat his tics into other avenues.

Regardless of Leo's Tourettes and Tics, I am so proud of the little boy he has become. He has been dealt a difficult hand but it never stops him, he has some great friends and his compassion for other people is incredible. 

Leo is a true superstar and I know that this too shall pass. He will come out the other of this, and I will be there to help him with whatever comes his way next.

Leasehold Fleecehold

The last month has been a busy one to say the least, at the start of October I gave notice on the house I was renting. We were supposed to be buying our forever home, Luke, Leo and I, but unfortunately we cannot sell the flat Luke owns.

It's taken us a while to get to the cause of the issues we have experienced in selling Luke's property, 12 whole months in fact, but finally we have got to the bottom of the root cause, and unfortunately it has made Luke a prisoner in the flat he purchased, a flat that is currently un-mortgage-able and not even an attractive deal for a cash buyer..

Why?

The leasehold. 

(Or should I say Fleecehold!?)

We have had a number of people attempt to purchase this property over the course of a year, at least 4 first time buyers with a mortgage, and 1 cash buyer. (So I guess it's good that people do want to buy flats in the long run!)

All the buyers who hoped to obtain a mortgage crashed and burned. Their mortgage offer in principal was absolutely fine, but as soon as they got to the underwriters for an official offer, it was a big fat no.

The first 3 buyers didn't really shed a lot of light on why this was happening, and the estate agents didn't have a clue. We had found what was going to be our family home, and time was ticking. The chain had collapsed each time a buyer pulled out and I can only imagine how annoying this must have been for the person we were buying off.

We discovered that the banks would not lend due to the ground rent of the lease being more than 0.1% of the property value. As it stands the ground rent is £500 per year, and this doubles every 25 years.

This condition paired with the £500 annual ground rent is the root of all of our problems trying to sell, and we are not alone in this feat.

When the last mortgage offer fell off the table, we put the flat back on the market as a cash only purchase. This is of course meant that we were going to take a substantial hit on what would be offered, but we were at the point where we needed to cut our losses and get on with our lives.

We accepted a cash offer, and we had found a new property (a beautiful Victorian terrace with so much space!), and everything progressed beautifully. We were so excited to be making plans, and we could really see ourselves living our best lives in this house. 

Then the stumbling block... The cash buyer had been advised by their solicitor that they should not proceed with the sale.

Why?

The lease. 

They advised the buyer that the 25 year doubling clause of the lease was in fact toxic.  

The buyer got scared and subsequently backed out, which of course meant that we had to pull from our sale (again, after spending more money on searches and what not for a second property!). All the while we were running two properties with all of our possessions packed in readiness to move house.

It was then I realised that in order to move on with our lives we needed to consolidate and stop forking out money on a house and a flat. I handed in my notice and have not long handed the keys back. It's been a month of cleaning and sorting everything but we our finally at the other end of the move. 

The boxes are un-packed and there is finally light at the end of the long, dark lease tunnel. 

Luke has sought legal advice, and there is a solution to our problem, but it is going to cost us an arm and a leg. 

We can apply for a statutory lease extension, this will add 90 years to the the lease (I believe that there are still 112 years on the lease at this point anyway), but by doing this it will take the ground rent down to a peppercorn rent (something very affordable ££) which will in turn make it mortgage-able again, and the 25 year doubling won't be as daunting anymore. 

I mean if the ground rent was taken to £50 per year, in 25 years it would only be £100. 

Sounds great eh? To make this happen thought we need to employ a solicitor and we need to do this formally. If we were to go directly to the lease holder they could potentially do something to variate the lease terms... But it would in fact be an informal agreement that could make our situation worse. I have read of people accepting informal agreements where the ground rent is reduced... but the doubling clause goes from 25 years to 10 years... or even 5!

This of course means it looks attractive in the here and now, but very quickly can get out of control and will put you in even more of a negative position.

So the plan is this...

Luke called a meeting with the property management who in turn invited the other owners of the flats, they brought a long a solicitor who deals with leases and is very clued up on what must happen next. 

We will employ a solicitor to do all the leg work, get a quote from the leasehold on how much a statutory lease extension will cost , we will plough ahead (it could easily take 12 months), and could cost anything from £10k right up to 25k! We won't know until we get the official quote...

Ironically we will have to pay not only our legal fees.... But also the legal fees of the leaseholder. For the lease company this is a massive payday. They know that there comes a point where flats will become un-mortgageable, and that people will have to throw thousands of £ in their direction. 

It is wrong.

It's crazy that this can even exist in modern day Britain, it doesn't sound like it should be legal, or even a reality, but there our thousands of people trapped in their homes due to their lease holders keeping them prisoner, unable to sell. 

Luke has been advised to seek legal advice in regards to the solicitor who took him through the sale of the flat in 2016, because there was never any emphasis or warning on the leasehold.

It has been said that he should never have been given a mortgage on the property in the first place...

Now with all of the media attention on new builds and the leaseholds that have been attached to them, there is a lot more negativity and attention on leases, and the solicitors and lenders in turn are being much more wary.

That is great for the people browsing the housing market, but not so great for the people who want to move and get on with their lives.

2018 ended amazingly, we were newly engaged, buying a dream house and we even found out we were pregnant in early summer. A month later the pregnancy has ended, the house has fallen through and we cannot sell the flat.

Subsequently there is no wedding planning due to all available money being saved to sort out the lease.

2019 has been full of bumps in the road, but were still smiling and making the most of a not so great situation.

Let's hope 2020 is a better year.   

The Schleich Stable Review

I have fond childhood memories of playing imaginative games with my younger brother. We had a whole selection of Schleich animals and a plastic sheet that had an entire wildlife scene imprinted upon it. From grass land to desert, there was a place for the array of animals that we had collected over the years.

Those very animals (and even that particular play sheet) are still at my parents house for the next generation to enjoy. 

I have always loved Schleich as a brand, the attention to detail that goes into the each individual item is just incredible, and I love that they are still going strong in 2019 for Leo to enjoy too. 

We have a whole selection of Schleich Dinosaurs on display in his bedroom, he’s had them since he was a toddler and Leo was overjoyed when we were asked if we would like to review the Schleich Horse Stable.

Granted I was probably more excited about reliving my youth, and when it came to the un-boxing and set up of our shiny new stable, I did marvel and swoon over all of the wonderful details that were embellished into this beautiful set.

The Horse Stable had to be built before it could be played with, but the instructions were easy to follow illustrations that were all numbered accordingly. Before I got started with the construction, I emptied the pieces out of their wrappers and lay them all in front of me.

There are a lot of really lovely additions to this particular set, and along with the selection of farm animals (listed below), you also get farmers Paul and Laura. Paul is all ready to do all the practical work (there’s carrots and hay so feeding the animals is a must!) around the farm (there’s even a horse brush and bath so the horses can be preened and polished!), and Laura is positioned so that she can ride either Horse of her choosing (and yes there is an actual saddle that you can attach to the horses so Laura can sit down!).

It took me around 30 minutes to build the stable, I got a little perplexed when it got to putting the roof on. It was tricky in the sense that I needed to line the roof up with the allocated slots and slot it in until it clicked into place, at the same time I had to keep the support beams I had placed in line too. We got there eventually, but if I had got my head around the whole roofing situation sooner, it would have been an even quicker set up.

There are stickers included within the instructions that can be stuck over the horses stables (so you can name them if you choose), and even a sticker for the feed station which highlights different meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

My advice would be to build this before your present it to the children, as they are going to be super eager to play with it (so if it’s a present, maybe build it the night before).

The stable comprises 2 Horse boxes, which is great as You also get 2 Horses in this set, 1 Black Shire Stallion and 1 White Mare (The White Horse has a French braid in its Mane!), and you will even find a few other little surprise animals inside:

3 Ducklings

1 Mouse

1 Kitten

The Stable is a brilliant set and comes with so many little bits that you would expect to find in a real life stable, and of course with Schleich’s attention to detail, it’s not been missed here! 

There is fencing that you can attach to any of the doorways that the horse has access too, so your little ones could even leave the horse grazing in greener pastures (or whatever their imagination decides!). 

One point I really have to add into this review is this, it’s not been marketed for a boy, or a girl. It’s completely neutral, which is really great. There was no ‘this is for girls’ coming from Leo because there wasn’t a shade of pink on the box what-so ever. Instead they have opted for Yellow’s, Greens and Red’s (keeping in theme with the stable itself). 

Over all we were really impressed with the Schleich Horse Stable, it really didn’t disappoint. The only thing I wish is that it was around when I was Leo’s age! I did keep saying over and over again how much I would have adored this as a kid. 

I loved all things horse as a girl (I actually recall saying that I was never going to learn to drive, I was going to have a real horse and that would be my form of transport. My Mum maintains that I was born in the wrong era!).

The set retails at £79.99, which for us equates to a main birthday gift or Christmas present. If your little ones love animals and make believe play, then this Schleich set will be a sure winner.

The price really does reflect just how much detail has gone into everything that is included, and it’s something that we will treasure and preserve for future children. 

Life After Miscarriage

This post was supposed to be one of excitement, it was one that I couldn’t wait to write, to share with you all.

One that I had dreamed of for many years, the dream of announcing my second pregnancy. A sibling for Leo, a much wanted second baby.

Over the years though, it just hadn’t happened and I could accept that. I knew... or I thought that if I ever did conceive again... that would be the hard part and 9 months later I would welcome our baby into the world. 

Today though, instead of sharing happy news with my little corner of the web, I am announcing the loss of my pregnancy, the loss of our second child.

Our much wanted second child, Leo’s longed for sibling.

Today I am announcing our miscarriage.

Over the past few months I have been writing secret posts, posts that when I read back scream of the excitement and love that I shared in being pregnant and adding a new member to our family.

They make for hard reading now, that smile on my face, the love that already coursed through my veins. 

After the worst happened (I’ll be sharing the whole story), I decided I wasn’t going to post my pregnancy posts, but then I thought ‘woah now that’s just wrong!’, this pregnancy did happen. 

When I look back at those very first posts, the big smile on my face, the look on Luke’s face when he realised we were pregnant again, it has a bittersweet feeling. I was so obliviously happy, so excited for this next chapter of our lives, and I didn’t think for one second that our pregnancy would result in a missed miscarriage. 

This baby was a part of me for all the time that he or she was tucked away in my tummy, and this little baby that was destined not to be is still a part of us today. 

It is a fact that 1 in 4 pregnancies result in a miscarriage, and now I am part of a club that I never wanted to join. A club that I naively thought I never would join, because miscarriages happen to ‘other’ people, they don’t happen to me. 

Boy was I wrong. 

1 in 4 pregnancies result in miscarriage.

I am 1 in 4.

This baby is a part of our story, even if that story does not have a happy ending. 

With that in mind, I’m still going to share my little story with you. The story with a less than happy ending, but a story that happened to me nonetheless. 

A story that happens to 1 in 4 people who get a positive pregnancy test. 

A story that people don’t like to talk about, but a story that needs telling even if people try to shine away from it.

If it can happen to me, it can happen to you.

It’s a story that I go over and over in my mind on a daily basis, one that I can’t escape from, it just keeps on replaying in my mind. 

I was told ‘at this stage it was just a bunch of cells’. 

No. No. No. 

It took us 3 years from the removal of my implant to conceive, 3 fucking years. 3 years of dreaming of a baby, a sibling, 3 years of Leo asking to be a BIG BROTHER, and my body failed us. 

A bunch of cells? No way.

 As soon as that test threw us a little pink line, those little cells meant we were going to be parents again. They meant that Leo was going to welcome his very first baby brother or sister. 

Our baby was never ever ‘just a bunch of cells’. Our futures changed as soon as that pregnancy test presented that second line. 

They changed again the moment we were told ‘I’m sorry but there is no heartbeat’.

A whole lifetime taken away before it even started. A baby we would never know. A piece of the jigsaw that would never fit.

No one wants to talk about miscarriage. 

No one wants to talk about loss, a baby that might have been. 

No one wants to remember a baby that ‘never was’.

I could show you what happened through the pictures I took, I could show you the pregnancy sac, the clots, I could show you, tell you, everything. 

But I won't (howver if you are facing a miscarriage and want to know what to expect, please message me. I'm happy to talk, and know what you are going through, drop me a message!).

I am going to share our story anyway, I am going to smile through the tears and remember how happy we were in those first few weeks knowing that we had a little baby growing away inside. 

I am always going to remember.

Luke will always remember.

Leo will always remember.

Little baby Rose, 30th June 2019 - 20:34.

No life should fit in one little shoe box, no life should be contained within four little walls. 

When a baby is lost in the womb, there is very little to cling to, very little to hold. 

This little box is all we have. 

A Complete Miscarriage

On Thursday 1st August Luke and I made our way back to Worcester Royal for my appointment.

A week ago I made the same journey filled with such hope, I thought I was going to see my baby’s heart beating on screen for the very first time. I thought that all of the worry of the last few weeks, of that last hospital appointment was all going to be forgotten. 

Only that wasn’t the case. I had gone away with the knowledge that my baby didn’t have a heartbeat. That my baby had shrunk.

That my baby was dead.

That my pregnancy had failed.

That it was all over.

The miscarriage had already happened naturally on the Tuesday (30th July), but I hadn’t had the heart to ring the hospital and talk it through with them. I don’t think I could have, not without being a big blubbery mess and not making much sense. I decided to keep my cards close to my chest and just go along today and tell them before the scan.

We arrived and sat in the same waiting room I had sat in exactly 7 days before. I watched a pregnant lady walk in with her notes. I looked down at the floor, reality gripped me and wouldn’t let go. I tried to hold back the tears. 

I didn’t want to cry here. Luke rubbed my leg, he knew I had seen her. 

He knew I was gutted. 

My name was called, we got up and walked along to a different ultrasound room to the week before. I saw the male sonogropher who I had deeply hoped I wouldn’t have last week... he was lovely. I told them my sorry tale. I sort of kept it together but I could feel my voice crumbling beneath me. 

They told me they were sorry, but they could never be as sorry as I was. I explained that I was still bleeding and asked if they would be able to do the scan as a trans abdominal ultrasound. 

They said that they could. I was beyond elated.

My empty uterus flashed onto the screen. As last week it was tilted away from me, I asked if they could move it so that I could see too. 

He told me that I had a retroverted uterus, something that no one had ever mentioned to me before, this helped me trust him. They had failed to tell me this at the viability scan a week ago. One of many things that were written in their official hospital notes but not vocalised to me.

An empty black space where my baby and gestational sac had been appeared. They explained that I had experienced a complete miscarriage. This means that all signs of the pregnancy had gone, just how everything should be in a situation like mine. 

I asked if they could make sure that everything inside me looked as it should look, I knew they couldn’t tell me why my baby had died, but I needed to know if it was something that my body may have done.

As expected... everything was normal. Everything was as it should be.

I had written a list of questions that I bombarded this poor man with. He half answered most questions, almost avoiding the real answer. He couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me when he thought the baby had stopped growing, there was just some speel about mistakes being made, and not being able to go into that detail (or something along those lines).

They apologised once again, and we left to go to the EPAU (early pregnancy assessment unit) where I had appointment with a nurse.

We waited until my name was called and followed a lady into the room where I had been told my baby had died.

I got my list of questions out again. I pulled up the scan photo on my phone, I asked her all of my many, many questions. 

She gave me more than the sonogropher did. She said the baby looks to have stopped growing around 6 weeks, that the baby may have never had a heartbeat. 

I was told sometimes these things just happen, that we never really know the reason why. I was handed a miscarriage information booklet, she offered to take my pregnancy notes for me... I declined. 

I wanted those notes to keep, we have a shoe box (ironically the one I used to announce the pregnancy to Luke and Leo), where we have put everything that relates to our little Pop. We don’t have a lot, but those notes needed to be with the rest of Pop’s things. Proof that he or she existed, if only for a short time.

Then she said it ‘it was only a bunch of cells at this stage’, I couldn’t have disagreed more. That little ball of cells was our baby, our future. We had already planned our lives around having a new baby, and just like that it had all been ripped away.

I had been determined not to get sad, but I failed. The tears came, and I was angry at myself. 

I have realised that I am a crier. I cry when I’m sad, when I’m happy and when I’m angry. No matter the situation I cry. 

I hate that.

I stayed in that room asking all my questions and she gave me that time, I really appreciated that. I knew when I left that room, when we walked out of that hospital, that was it. That was the end. 

My pregnancy was over and my normal life had to resume sometime. I had been off work for 2 days, since the miscarriage had happened, but tomorrow it was time to go back.

I know some people take longer, but I knew I was over the worst of it and sitting around at home was not going to do me any favours. 

My body had not been able to keep the pregnancy, but it had successfully cleaned me inside and saved me the horror of any management options, especially the trauma of surgery.

We got in the car and drove home, the miscarriage was behind us, but emotionally we both had a long way to go. 

Miscarriage - I am 1 in 4

Sunday 28th July - 8 weeks + 2

I was just getting ready to go to bed, Luke was in the upstairs bathroom so I decided to go downstairs, I had a funny feeling In my tummy that usually signalled the start of my period...but of course I was pregnant so it couldn’t and wouldn’t be that.

When I wiped I noticed that there was pink blood on the tissue. It was about 11:30pm. 

I knew that this was my body announcing the beginning of the end. My pregnancy was indeed over, the little life that had started growing inside of me had gone, the lights had gone out. 

It was over. 

I went upstairs to Luke and presented him the tissue, borderline hysterical inside but composed enough to make sense and not to alert Leo to anything out of the ordinary.

I dug around in my many draws to try and find a pad (which I never keep in as I hate them and refuse to use!) and thankfully cane across one (being Sunday night there of course was nowhere open if I had needed to send Luke out... typical).

I got into bed and sat there in the dark, my phone lighting up my face and revealing the silent tears that gently slid down my face. 

Luke held me until he fell asleep, but sleep didn’t come easy for me. 

Monday 29th July - 8+3

It was Monday morning, my many alarms sounded one after the other. 

I promptly went to the bathroom, I wondered what I would find. I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was little to no bleeding, I knew I could go to work and do what I needed to do today. 

The working day came and went, nothing was really happening. It took until around midnight that night, I was certain I was having light contractions. 

As I got into bed and started to quieten down for sleep, I was aware that something was happening. 

I wondered if this was the start of everything. 

Tuesday 30th July - 8+4

 I woke up and felt a familiar feeling that I hadn’t had in over 8 years. 

A contraction.

I wasn’t in any pain but I knew my body meant business today. When I went to the loo I noticed that I had passed the first big clot.

I could tell that my body was kicking things up a gear and I was in two minds about going to work. 

I had never experienced anything like this before and I was terrified it might all kick off during the day. I knew I wanted to be at home when it all eventually happened, definitely not in the office.

I text my boss and let him know that the miscarriage had started, but at this point I felt that I was able to come into work, however I may need to suddenly run away pretty quickly...

I literally had no idea what to expect or how long it was going to take, I knew in some cases it could take weeks. I didn’t want to over react, I didn’t really know how to react or what to do. 

I knew I didn’t want to take the mick with work though, and I didn’t want to start taking time off if nothing was happening.

I went to work and stayed until 1pm, ordinarily I would have been there until 2pm. 

I had spent the entire day sat down, I had been scared to stand up because gravity really does seem to help a miscarriage progress...I was paranoid that when I did stand up the pad would have failed me. 

I Left work and made the 10 minute drive home. When I got home the bleeding started to really flow. 

I feel like I left at exactly the right time. 

Luke and Leo had wanted to go and watch the Lion King, and so had I for that matter. We were all thinking about getting ready to go, but I could feel the contractions progressing and couldn’t help feeling that something was really starting to happen. 

There was a little voice in my head telling me that going to the cinema tonight was a very bad idea indeed...

I was soaking pads very quickly, and the contractions were becoming more regular. Every time there was a contraction more blood and clotting came away. 

I made a conscious effort to keep standing up to make sure that gravity was able to work it’s magic.  Just like I did when I was in labour with Leo, only this time there wasn’t going to be a happy ending.

At about 8pm I decided to run a bath and ‘clean up a bit’, but it didn’t take long for the bath to turn blood red. 

The contractions got stronger and were just like the end of labour with Leo. They weren’t painful, they were uncomfortable and I could instantly remember why I was getting so impatient with being at home at that stage in my labour with Leo. 

I decided to stay in the bath, I lifted my leg up and there was a long, hard contraction that certainly meant business. I don’t remember pushing or applying pressure.... but at the end of that final contraction the gestational sac that housed my baby, plopped into the bath water. 

At this stage I had cried all my tears and made peace with what was happening. I must have called for Luke, because he came running upstairs (god knows what he thought when he saw the bath!), and by this point I have reached into the water, and now had the gestational sac (and baby!) laid flat in the palm of my left hand.

The contractions stopped as soon as I had passed the gestational sac. Just like that, my body had been working towards one end goal, and the objective had been reached. 

I lay there thinking how amazing our bodies really are, they just know what to do even when we are unsure. 

Luke looked more emotional than I felt, I think I had cried that much when the bleeding started and had that time already to form a sort of acceptance, but for Luke this was all fresh and new. 

Maybe it all felt real for the first time. 

I must have stayed in the bath another 10 minutes or so just looking at what would have become our second child. I bathed the sac and cleaned it all up as much as I could, I felt like this was perhaps the one and only thing I could do for our little one now. 

Luke had brought me a pot, and we placed the baby inside ready for a proper burial.

It took 3 days for my body to complete the miscarriage, from the start of the bleeding to passing the sac and baby. 

My natural miscarriage lasted 3 days. For me this was the absolute best way for the worst thing to happen, the thought of taking pills to bring this on medically made me feel uncomfortable. I would have always had a doubt in my mind that a mistake had been made...

I wanted my body to realise the awful thing that had happened and act accordingly.

Just like it eventually did.

3 days after I was told the heart had stopped (July 25th), if it had indeed ever beaten at all...it all unfolded as it should. 

I didn’t need another confirmation that the baby didn’t have a heartbeat, my body had let me know that all on it’s own. 

Sunday 4th August

A week after the first spotting had started, I passed what I am certain was a very small placenta. 

It didn’t look like the other clots that I had passed, it was different. Having been to the hospital on Thursday (August 1st) where they scanned me and declared that there was nothing left, I had experienced a complete miscarriage, everything that should have come away, had.... they had missed this little placenta.

I didn’t have anymore contractions when the placenta came out. It just arrived, and that was it, the last little thing that made me pregnant was gone. 

I was no longer pregnant. 

5th August 

With the last of the pregnancy out of me, my body must have taken note. The bleeding stopped, just like that.

I had bled for 9 days straight, only really heavily on the night of the actual miscarriage. 

Once everything was gone, it stopped.