The Unimaginable
Written in 2018
These are words I never thought that I would be writing. These are experiences I never thought would happen. This is something I would never wish on anyone.
I found out I was pregnant at the end of October and initially, all was going well. Then the unimaginable happened.
At 12 weeks I started to experience bleeding, it didn’t stop; it would subside, turn brown then start again. Overnight would be worse and some of those days I would wake up to go to the toilet and would see so quite a lot of blood. We went back to gynea emergency a few times; twice going through A&E. I saw my GP a few times also, only to be old if it is brown then not to worry. Well of course I was worrying; the blood was still there whether it was old or not.
At around 13 weeks, I had my dating week scan, I was still bleeding but in the scan all seemed absolutely fine; there was a clear heartbeat, baby was dancing around and wriggling. They even asked me to get up and run on the spot to get baby to move so they could do all the relevant checks and measurements.
At 14 weeks, time was ticking by and the bleeding continued; sometimes more; sometimes less. As I’d had my dating scan I was now seen by the Pregnancy Assessment unit. I’d had a very large bleed that was running down my legs in the early hours of the morning; I’d seen clots though not very big. They scanned me again; all was ok. Clear heartbeat, and baby wriggling. I was then scheduled in for weekly scans, as they still didn’t know where the bleeding was coming from, it wasn’t showing on the scan. I was seen a few times that week due to more bleeding, they did a blood test to confirm my blood group. I’m O-Neg so they gave me the anti D injection. This visit was on a Thursday or Friday where I’d crossed the 15 week mark and they said they wanted to check again to make sure everything was ok with the placenta in a more detailed scan; this was booked for the following Monday, first thing. They had also checked my cervix which was closed and I asked if I experience more bleeding over night or over the weekend should I could back in; the doctor that checked me said as she can see all is fine with the baby, it was just a question of how much I can put up with at home. I was getting scanned anyway in 3 days time. I thought that I would know if I would be in too much pain.
That Friday night I remember setting myself up in bed so I wasn’t lying flat; I had alsorts of theories as to why I was bleeding so was trying to sleep in different possitions in bed. The clots could have be forming as the blood had nowhere to go when I was lying down. Through the night I remember being in some pain; but the pain was very much like really bad wind/gas. It was awful but after a while it calmed down and I was able to get some sleep. Very early in the morning I woke up to visit the toilet only to feel an intense pressure and gushing feeling. There was blood everywhere; down my legs on the carpet (miraculously not on my white sheets) all over the bathroom floor. After I wiped and wiped I had passed a very large clot, about this size of a tennis ball. This was surely not normal; but as we knew the scan was booked in two days we opted to leave it til then as the thought of sitting in A&E for hours again did not appeal only to be told to keep our appointment on Monday. Other than the pain I had with the gas I had no other pain.
We went into town that day; had some lunch desperately trying to distract ourselves. I was still craving orange juice in any form and I demolished two pints of it within minutes. By lunch time the bleeding had reduced a little and I felt calmer; though that evening I remember feeling another intense pressure and on visiting the toilet the blood was gushing. Another clot again the size of a tennis ball; again reminding ourselves we had the scan in less than two days. We knew there was nothing else that they could do anyway.
Monday morning arrived, the wait in the little room was agonising. It was a new sonographer I’d not seen before. She found the heartbeat and played it to us; it was amazing but still surrounded in doubt because of the bleeding. She was checking over the scan looking puzzled and said my amniotic fluid levels were very low. She asked me what fluids I’d lost over the weekend and if any of it was clear. All I’d experienced was a mix between blood and clear for more than a week; though we did contain one the clots to show her which she took off to show a doctor. She said she was concerned my waters had gone and she was going to get a doctor to check the scan images. My heart sank right through the floor; this couldn’t be happening.
The doctor came in and had a look and said all appeared ok for the gestation but they wanted to check to see if my fluid levels would improve so I was booked in for another scan the following week. In that week I did everything I could to make sure that my fluid levels rose. Despite the fact that looking back there was nothing I could have done. Although at the time I’d done some research I found that through the baby the fluid levels replenish so I drank as much as I could. I knew some friends who’d been to Lourdes and brought back some Lourdes water. Although I’d not been to church for over a decade, I’d been to Lourdes annually from the age of 9 to the age of 21 so I did what my granny used to do and I diluted the supply I was given into bottle after bottle of water. I’ve not said as many Hail Marys since I was a kid.
At 16 week and 4 days, Monday came again and another agonising wait in the waiting room; we shared it with a girl with a huge bump loudly discussing how well her baby was doing. I squeezed by husbands hand so hard. I’m not a violent person but I wanted to throw something heavy at her. We were called into the room; again the heartbeat was found but the fluid levels had not improved. I’d been losing fluid consistently all week but not as much as previously had. She wanted us to see a Doctor again to discuss the results so we were sent back to the waiting room; this time we had it to ourselves for a little while.
We were called back down and taken to a different room. It was filled with all the usual equipment but it was dark, cold and seemingly unused other than for situations like this. We were greeted by Melissa, one of the consultants, who sat us down and confirmed exactly what we didn’t want to hear. She believed that, having reviewed all of my scans that my waters had gone the week before. Although baby was currently showing a heartbeat there was not enough fluid to continue lung development. There was a high risk to me for infection and an extremely high risk that I would miscarry at any time. We were given some options including termination, I hate this word. I would have prefered that they use the phrase induced miscarriage. We asked for a second opinion so we were referred to the Fetal medicine team at the research hospital in town. Their reputation is excellent so we decided to hold off making any decisions until we’d seen them.
17 weeks; the weather had decided to take a turn for the worse. The ‘beast from the east’ hit us on the Tuesday. Our appointment with Fetal Medicine was on the following day. I’d been signed off work the previous week so I didn’t have that worry but we were concerned as all weather forecasts and new reports were telling people not to travel unless absolutely necessary. Our journey was just that. When we woke up on Wednesday morning we could not believe the amount of snow! The roads were treacherous, neither of our cars did well in the snow and we had a 15 mile journey to the city centre to make this appointment. We decided to get all wrapped up and set off a few hours early and get a coffee before hand. We also packed a bag to leave in the car just in case the worst happened and they kept me in for whatever reason. Unlikely, but given the weather it was better the be prepared.
We made it into town ok as the roads had cleared up slightly; we did various errands and went to get a Starbucks. We pretty much sat in silence, not wanting to talk about what we could be told. We made our way up to the hospital and navigated the rabbit warren corridors and eventually found the department, I gave them my notes and they took us to a private room to wait. This was very much appreciated as our experiences of waiting rooms so far weren’t great. They said that our appointment would be delayed as they had an emergency (we later found out this was because a lady was giving birth in the toilet). All the staff were amazing; we were supplied with cups of tea and checked on regularly. Outside the window all we could do is watch as the weather situation declined rapidly; the snow was getting worse. After a few hours of waiting the the nurse that was looking after us came in to tell us she was going home as they were stopping the buses and she’d already been in for 12 hours. Another nurse was there and she was in all night.
After a 3 hour wait we were called in. I needed the toilet so badly but I didn’t want to go as they needed a full bladder. They did however quickly check for a heartbeat and let me go and empty my bladder to be more comfortable. The consultant was very thorough and appeared to be very experienced. He was personable and calm too which really made a difference. This room was very different; instead of having to twist round to see the screens there was one right above my head so I could see everything he was doing. He checked everything which appeared on point; all the organs were where they should be and the heartbeat was what it should be. But; there was no fluid. Just a tiny pocket in front of baby’s face and they were curled up very tightly around it. The consultant confirmed what Melissa had said just days ago; without the fluid the baby just could not develop; and although there was an option that I could continue the pregnancy the baby would exrtremely unlikely survive the full term. The chances of miscarriage were extremely high and this could happen at any time; my risk of infection was also extremely high as the membrane was broken and the prognosis was not good. We were given the options; I could continue with the pregnancy and be monitored further with the risks of infection and imenent miscarriage or we could make the decision to carry out an induced miscarriage. By now it was past 5pm; the department was closed but both the consultant and the nurse were happy to sit with us and answer any questions that we had. The nurse held my hand as I sobbed, husband holding the other hand. We left the hospital with the options and were advised to call our local unit when we made a decision.
The snow really had come down in the few hours we were in there; the roads were worse than this morning and the car ride home was not only filled with despair it was long and scary. Husband was driving and my car just cannot cope in snowy conditions; he drove at 20mph all the way home on un-cleared roads as the snow continued. We got home and just held each other. Talking over the options and potential outcomes. Given the risks to me and that the baby was very unlikely to survive we had reached the decision that night, but we left it until the following morning to call the hospital. It’s so hard having to make this decision especially knowing that the baby’s heart is still beating but the risks at the end of the day out weighed the very small possibilities; which realistically would have been a miracle. Regardless, I was in pieces.
The next morning my husband made the call to the hospital as I just couldn’t get words out. We were asked to come straight in to be administered the drug to start the process. The weather was still horrendous and we’d had more snowfall overnight; he told them that we’d get ready straight away but we didn’t know how long it would take us to clear off the car and drive down. They said just to call as we set off; so we got ready, cleared the snow off the car and just as we set off we called to pass the message on.
The journey in was bad; although the snow had stopped the wind was blowing snow from the fields onto the roads and at one point on the dual carriageway we had zero visibility. It was the worst I’d seen the roads since 2010.
We arrived at the hospital; the birthing centre. Ugh. Yes we had to go to the birthing centre. On arrival we were ushered straight to a little room right at the back away from the labour ward. We waited for a little while; the midwife that met us asked why we didn’t call, so clearly the person we spoken to didn’t pass on the message. After about 40 mins of more waiting my named consultant came in, who I’d not met before now and a midwife called Aurora. They talked us through the process and what would happen. I still had no idea how this was going to work even now. They explained that the tablet was to stop the placenta and then I would come back in 48 hours to be induced into labour and give birth. The thought of all of this is utterly terrifying. I still had no idea what to expect or how I would feel about seeing my baby at 17 weeks, according to my app the baby was the size of an avocado. We were given a handful of leaflets from the Sands group charity about what happens afterwards; all of which were informative and useful. I was given forms to fill in and then; the tablet. Which I had to take there and then while they were with me. I suppose so they could make a note of when it was taken.
We went home numb. I did nothing that evening or the following day, I didn’t move from the sofa. I had received another notebook to start bullet journalling again though so I threw myself into distraction mode planned out my journal; decorated it; updated it. Mostly with the dates that everything had happened. I spent the entire day doing this. I’d also been told to monitor bleeding which had pretty much become a habit. We booked the dog into Kennels as we were expecting to be in the hospital over night on the Saturday. We set our alarms and went to bed; ready for the worst day of our lives.
17 weeks 2 days, Saturday morning; the weather was starting to take the piss. More snow. My husband got up early to take the dog to kennels. This is only a mile away from our house but it is across a field and he couldn’t get the car over the dirt track; he had to walk her over there in 4 ft of snow with 6ft drifts. The dog however loved this; she had no idea what was going on of course. She was just busy being a dog. He got home and had to have another shower and get changed again. We set off in plenty of time and got there early at around 7:50am.
The Willow Room
The hospital are amazing; they have a dedicated room for deliveries like this one. All from donations to the Teardrop Support Group. The words “willow room” will become something of a code word in the weeks to come also. It has a sofa bed for husbands, kettle, cups, tea, milk, pictures on the walls, the bed isn’t too clinical and has a duvet and pillows. They try to make the room as comfortable as possible. The first thing I saw on entering the room was the tiny moses basket. My heart broke. I broke down. It started to sink in.
Our midwife for the day was Lyndsey and she was amazing, she said if we needed anything all we had to do was press the buzzer for her at any time over the day. She checked me over and said I was already starting to dialate; at 9:50 I was given the pessaries to be induced, as I lay in the bed I just sat in a daze. Lyndsey brought us the memory book to read but I didn’t want to at that point but I did have a look through the memory box. Which had a small teddy bear; knitted heart; glass angel; poems; a book; memory card; certificate of birth (not official). We both got a key ring with a heart centre; where you leave the heart with the baby and you keep the rest. It was truly beautiful. I started to feel cold after about an hour; possibly shock or just the pessaries working. Then I started to feel cramping after about an hour. They were intense but still far apart. After 2 hours and after being given some more pain killers they were getting close together. Lyndsey still thought I had a way to go but I was started on gas and air. After this I was away with it for a while. I started getting chatty for the first time in weeks. I was aware of that but had no idea what I was talking about. It’s all a bit of a blur now, but this is where things started happening I think. Lyndsey had gone for her lunch but the contractions were very close together. Everything happened quite quickly, I don’t know how long this went on for but Lyndsey got back from her lunch just in time as I was ready to start to push. I remember her telling me to stop pushing from my throat and remember that one leg was over her shoulde and the other was over my husbands shoulder. Baby’s feet came out first after not a lot of pushing but the head was so much harder. After another 10 minute or so baby was born. They were perfect; tiny and looked peaceful. My fears of seeing them dissipated and though the series of events that day are mixed up I remember certain moments like they were yesterday. This is one of them. This was 1:25pm on Saturday 3rd March 2018.
We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting with our baby and holding them, We both went through the membery book while the other held our baby. We used this time we had as we knew this would be our one and only chance. I sat on the bed with them on my knee in front of me and my husband sat beside me and we talked. Writing this now in July I now know that we had a little girl but this was because we had genetic testing done and found out at the end of April. At the time we did not know as baby had already stopped developing at around 16 weeks, we now know we made the correct desicion as she would not have progressed further. However, it was not possible to tell her gender on the day. She was perfect though; I can still see her face, hands and feet. She had been wrapped in a knitted gown and wrapped in a blanket. Later in the afternoon we were able to have some photos taken with the hospital camera and we were given the memory card. I’ve not looked at the photos since then but it is comforting to know that they are there. My husband has since looked at the photos to help in his own grief however I have not. I will though, one day.
We spent a good 4 or 5 hours with her and we could have stayed here as long as we wanted but she was starting to deteriorate in the time we had been there. We said our goodbyes and went home to have some much needed food, as I had not eaten anything except toast all day and some sleep. On the way home I remember though that we both broke down. We left our baby behind and it was the hardest thing we have ever had to do.
We then start the long road to physical, metal and emotional recovery. There are now many terms that I am too familiar with; PROM – Premature Rupture of Membrane; SROM – Spontaneous Rupture of Membrane; TFMR – Termination For Medical Reasons; Induced Miscarriage. All terms that I had never heard before and now will be written in my medical record going forwards. In the following week I was a mess. I had to call the hospital 2 days later as my breast started to feel very solid and excruciatingly painful. My body was starting to produce breast milk; I had to call the GP to get a prescription to help this stop. This was in partnership with horrendous cramps; bleeding and generally feeling like my insides were going to drop out of my body.
My mum came up to help after the weather improved and the roads were safe; I’d been into Town with my husband the afternoon she was due to arrive. I’d forgotten to put my parking disc on the windscreen for a 20 minute stay and got a parking ticket. I had a full meltdown right there in the car park. I continued sob uncotrollably for the rest of the day and evening and I was still sobbing when my mum got there but it was so good to see her. She was an amazing help for the week she stayed with us.
I know now that there are memories that will stay with me forever, after receiving the results as to the cause, I was advised that I had an infection in the placenta; our baby girl would not have survived as the placenta has already started to fail. I will always now see snow and associate with this time; I will see snow drops and will be taken back to this time. I will never forget and hope that one day we can tell our daughter about her sister. We may not hold our baby girl in our arms; but we are always still her parents. My husband has been an amazing support despite his own grief. The daddys are very much forgotten about. We have both grieved in the same but very different ways, but I firmly believe we are stronger together for it.
Photo by Marc Schulte on Unsplash
Blogging about being a mummy after surviving miscarriage. Lover of cheeky wipes and organisation.
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