I've had this post sat on my laptop for a good few months now. This is something I have been increasingly open about, and will continue to do so, as I believe we need to support each other, not suffer in silence behind closed doors, and awareness needs to be raised of how common this is.
Before I start, I will I'm ok, I've processed and I'm continuing to heal, and in a good place.
I’ve been trying to conceive for 4.5 years.
In this time I have been to numerous doctors, have dozens of blood tests, done several stimulated cycle rounds, cried a million tears, spent a load of money on tests, naturopaths and doctors (Isn’t it supposed to be free?!), smiled through a fair few baby announcements, and had 2 miscarriages.
But something I still haven’t been able to understand is why people suffer in silence.
Did you know 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage? Also only 2 percent of women will suffer 2x miscarriages in a row?
It all started when I was 26. Me and my partner were getting married, and my womb started to make its drum call. If you’ve felt the ache that you just have to have kids NOW god damn it, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
We talked about it, and I came off the pill. We were excited. We changed our honeymoon plan’s as we didn’t want to be in South America pregnant, and joyously kept the secret to ourselves that we were trying.
And nothing happened. After 8 months I went to the doctors, who confirmed I had PCOS and told me to come back in 2 years if I didn’t get pregnant by then, and referred to a gynaecologist.
The gynaecologist made me cry, charged me a fortune to tell me how the women’s cycle worked, and told me to come back in 6 months if it hadn’t happened yet. No thanks!
I decided to try a different avenue, and started acupuncture. This was going well, until I got in the car and realized I still had 4 needles in my chest. That was the end of that.
Throughout this time, people would joyously announce pregnancies on facebook, and in person, and you would often find me in a cupboard crying. My womb was calling to me that this was the time.
I moved and found a naturopath who prescribed me herbs and looked at my diet. After a year working together I think she realized that she could no longer help me and passed me the details of an integrative doctor.
I tucked the card into my purse and told myself I would call in a few months. I just needed some breathing room, and we were off on a 5 week holiday, so told myself to relax, and who knew – it might happen whilst we were away – everyone tells you just to relax and it will happen (unfortunately it's not always the case!).
It didn’t. So I unearthed the card and called the number and requested an appointment. It was the 7th January. I was told the next appointment was the 1st June – could I make it?
Too right I could make it, I would cancel anything that I needed too, if I had to wait 5 months I would make heaven and earth move to get there.
So I went to see her and she was lovely. She dove deep into my medical history, ordered a million blood tests, and sent me away with some supplements and an appointment in 7 weeks to review the results.
I put it in the back of my mind, and continued with life as normal. I woke up one morning and decided I had to move. I could NO longer stay in my apartment. So I started researching and found one 2 minutes away and sent my husband to view it, as I was working, and we took it.
The day we moved house, I got my period. It was late but I put it down to the stress of moving.
So when I woke 9 days later covered in blood I was really confused…
I went back to see my doctor, who ordered me to do a pregnancy test, thinking it could be an implantation bleed.
So I peed on a stick (I was well adept with that by this time) and it came back negative. Oh well. Confused my doctor racked her brains, when she suddenly sneezed. She went back to where she had left the stick, and the test was faintly positive.
She suggested it could either be a pregnancy or a miscarriage, and only a series of bloods test would confirm. I left the practice in shock, and went for a tea. In the pit of my stomach I knew what it was. I had miscarried.
The call several days later confirmed it. I tried to go on with life as usual and told a few close friends what had happened.
It’s a difficult conversation to have, but if your every told by someone that they have had a miscarriage – don’t say “At least it was early” or “at least you know you can get pregnant”. No, neither of them are what the person needs to hear. If anything get some chocolate and a chick flick and just be there for them.
This is turning into a huge blog post so I’m going to spilt it into 2. This wasn’t my intention, but it’s a big topic and deserves to be explored fully.
Part 2, will be in here next week x