We held you as our little secret for your whole life – we were so scared to tell anyone out of fear that we would jinx this pregnancy and like baby #2 we would never get to meet you! We honestly didn’t even talk about you much between the two of us. I was enjoying watching my belly grow (so quickly!) – We were only 8 weeks pregnant but I felt you there.
All too soon, I knew I was losing you; the ache, the blood, that feeling of just knowing.
I calmly made a GP appointment hoping beyond hope that it was just something normal happening and nothing to worry about – my GP told me every pregnancy is different, this could be normal and we needed a blood test and ultrasound to confirm anything.
Of course the only available space was during what was meant to be my daughter’s lunch nap, we were both on edge, emotional, frustrated and cranky – it was terrible. The office staff at the radiologist had to mind Margot because her crying was disturbing the lady doing the ultrasound. I could not control my tears.
I saw a blob on the screen in front of me that looked nothing like an 8 week pregnancy. She told me to calm down, and that I was being really negative – to her, it looked like a healthy 5 week pregnancy. No heartbeat yet – “it was too early in the pregnancy” – no embryo, it was just a sac so far! “The bleeding must be implantation bleeding” I was told. “You need to go home and do something nice for yourself to calm down” she advised.
I calmed myself enough to tell her that made no sense since I had a positive pregnancy test over 4 weeks ago.
She said dates can be wrong and that I shouldn’t be giving up on you just yet. She basically made me feel like a crazy person who was being very dramatic and silly.
I honestly felt like no one was listening to me.
After my GP reiterated the same thing as the radiologist, I assured her that in fact, it made no sense and that I knew we were losing you. She said if I felt any pain or the bleeding continued, to return or head to hospital.
I headed to hospital to have anti-D again because of my negative blood type and waited there for 2 lonely hours.
Your Dad felt so awful that I had had such an awful day, but I didn’t want to tell him too much because I was still secretly hoping it was ok.
The bleeding and then the labour-like symptoms intensified over the next two days and we lost you.
I will never meet you, never get to hold you, never get to name you and swaddle you. You won’t meet your amazing sister but I promise I will never forget the beautiful feeling of believing in you. Your Dad and I love you and miss you so much.
I still feel confident that we will have another babe but I just can’t control when. And, if it doesn’t happen, I feel lucky to already have an amazing daughter.