Everyone talks about the joy of BEING pregnant but, little talk about the struggles to GET pregnant or the fear of not making it to full-term.
Quite often we are asking how long it took us to conceive and if it was difficult, my answer is always the same.
We never fully obsessed about conceiving - we always thought it would happen when the time was right for us and hoped the day would come soon.
We had adopted this mindset when we suffered a heartbreaking loss.
If miscarriage is rarely talked about, the feelings that come with pregnancy after that loss are even more rare to hear about. I think there is a major misconception that once a woman conceives after a miscarriage, that somehow the past is suddenly erased. That the feeling of grief and loss are replaced with joy and happiness for this new baby- that isn’t always the truth.
When we experienced our own devestating loss at 8 weeks pregnant in 2017 one of the deepest and prominent scars it left was fear. As I grieved the loss of my child and wondered constantly what could have been, I was paralysed by the fear that I would never have a healthy child. That my dreams of having a family would not come true.
My miscarriage was sudden and completely unexpected. We had gone to our second dating scan and expected to see our healthy baby growing perfectly. The sonographer started with small conversation and soon fell silent. She looked for the heartbeat and expressed that it was hard to find. As she continued I could feel it in my heart. My whole being knew what had happened- my heart was in my throat and no matter how hard I blinked I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling. With the rod still up inside me she said ”I think you need to see your Dr”.
The whole experience was honestly traumatising from that moment on. From seeing the Dr the next day to being sent straight to The Royal Womans Hospital- right through to the D&C and the recovery period after.
I had always been a pretty trusting person - believing that things would always turn out OK even after unfortunate situations. Now I felt idiocally naive. Not only could I completely understand how fragile life is- but, more so how fragile our hopes and dreams could be. I realised in that moment, and every moment afterwards that there was really nothing special about my hopes and dreams at all. They were always and will always be just as vulnerable and delicate as the next persons. i entered a period in my life where I felt possibly the most vulnerable than I had ever felt before. I was suddenly unsure of something I had always been so certain to be true: that I would get to choose how many children I would have and that they would all be healthy.
I think these are all pretty common feelings for anyone experiencing grief. I think I really hoped that time would heal and after a period of time I would be “all better” - I just had to wait it out.
I got a lot of reminders that it just “wasn’t meant to be” but, at the time that isn’t exactly what you want or need to hear. It made my blood boil. I didn’t want “another baby” I wanted that one. I wanted THAT ONE that didn’t make it.
For a while I didn’t even want to discuss getting pregnant again or starting a family. Deep down it was still something that was in my heart but, I constantly feared that I would never get to touch and count the tiny toes that I had grown inside me. I resented the idea in a way. I felt that we were just moving on if we were to try again and that felt unfair to our baby who passed.
I was adamant that trying again was something I would never be ready for, until I looked inside myself and realised that my rejection of growing our family was nourished by my own fear. And it was something I was constantly feeding. I was so deeply afraid of the outcome of a further loss that I was scared of even considering opening my heart again.
As anyone who who has been through this heartbreak knows, making yourself vulnerable after being deeply broken is one of the hardest things.
Eventually I decided I was so sick of living in fear and letting that cripple me that the thought of a family started to give me hope again.
I went and completed a self development program called “Shine” which is something that changed my whole life. It changed my outlook on life, my mindset and the way I saw and spoke to myself. It was through this course that I dealt with a lot of my own deep rooted issues and learnt to let go and cope with things and feelings I had for a long time. I learnt to teach myself that I DID deserve happiness.
I learnt that you will never get over the grief of the baby you didn't get to hold but, it gets easier. Easier to talk about, easier to think about and easier to not feel so guilty.
That’s when I realised. I was constantly in fear and I constantly blamed myself and my body for something it couldn’t do. I blamed myself a lot which was completely irrational and ridiculous. I know that now.
Dealing with underlying issues and my own mindset taught me to be kind to myself and learn to love myself.
I deserved self care and love. I deserved a family. So, we decided to try without being obsessed. We wouldn’t let it consume us but, we also would remain very hopeful.
When we found out I was pregnany again - it was a complete mixed bag of emotions.
How do we act? How do we think? We were completely terrified. I, of course, was afraid of loss- I think that is only natural considering. But, above all I felt extremely protective. We told virtually no one about it. First time around if the heartbreak wasn’t enough, telling all our family and close friends that we were no longer expecting was enough to completely destroy me in that time.
Throughout the first trimester, as much as the sickness was horrible, in a way I actually welcomed it. It meant my baby was growing. I had insisted on extra ultrasounds to ensure our baby was still alive. Everytime I walked into one of these appointments, my heart was in my throat until the sweet sound of heartbeat was heard. Although my concerns were always shut down with a healthy baby, I was still on edge that the heartbreak was just around the corner. I yearned for the second trimester- the “safe time” where I could really be relieved and excited.
When I finally was able to feel my baby move properly was when I felt complete relief and started to fully imagine myself as a Mum. Us as a family. I welcomed every kick and roll no matter how uncomfortable they became.
Then, well into my second trimester I had my fall. This shook me to the core. I didn’t feel my baby (who usually was very squirmy) at all. I remember I barely felt the pain of my snapped ankle. I was in shock but, more than that I was crippled by fear that our healthy baby would be no more. I couldn’t go through that heartbreak again. Not now! We had come so far.
I remember telling the Dr that my ankle was fine but, “please check my baby”. I had expressed this for over an hour until finally, my baby was checked. It was confirmed that bubs was fine- perfect. Oh, the relief.
I had already fallen in love with this child, more than the pregnancy before. My love was deeper and stronger because of the past.
My fall(s) has taught me though that there isn’t really a safery zone in pregnancy. It is so delicate and sacred. Anything can happen at any one time. There is a lot of hope but, there is also a hell off a lot of fear.
Getting the extra monitoring following this was a pain but, it also was a joy. My worries were often taken over with hopeful joy.
Our loss taught me more about how to be a Mother than I ever thought. When it was raw I dismissed a lot of the “your time will come“ but, as my time was coming- And fast I might add- I started to realise that without that loss there would be no way my love for this unborn child would be this fierce. I wouldn’t be as greatful, honoured or feel as completely blessed to be able to carry to full-term.
I had unlocked a whole new world. A world that is often kept in the shadows. With talking openly about my miscarriage I learned that it is SO common in society but, women are taught and expected to push it aside. But, why should we? It’s a loss as great as any other. We are allowed to grieve and we should be given the grace to.
It was with my healthy baby surviving my falls and against all odds growing to be a healthy, happy and completely perfect little person that I realised God knew he was the one I needed. It didn’t make sense before but, holding him now it does. Having my loss allowed my heart to burst with happiness and gratitude for the baby who made it in a whole new way.
Of course, I think about and fight the sadness of loss everyday. I look and I wonder what could of been and I have learnt to allow myself these moments, and try to breathe through them. For life is so fragile and so precious- if we can’t allow ourself moments to sit and sob, how do we expect to grow?
There are a lot of ways to deal with loss and a loss of this kind. I look back now at who I was then and who I have become today, and I am greatful that I took the opportunity for personal growth.
Throughout my successful pregnancy, worry and fear would often creep up but, I taught myself coping mechanisms and talked myself through them. I would often talk to my baby about how we longed to hold them and wondered who they would be. It helped to relax myself. I would push and prod my tummy to see the reaction back. It was in this that hope grew.
I am in no way over our loss- I don’t think I ever will be but, I am greatful for the full heart and understanding I have today from it.
I am kinder, more gentle and conscious today than I was.
I was always someone to ask “when will you start a family” and now it’s not something I ever really mention first.
After all, you just never really know what happens in anyone’s backyard but your own.
I loved reading this, even through tears 💙💙