I’m currently under expectant management of my second pregnancy. Five weeks ago, my seven and a half week fetus was declared demised when they found the heartbeat has stopped.
As someone who always had irregular cycles, I have been concerned about conceiving but never thought I’d lose the pregnancy two in a row in two months. It’s like having a bad dream again and you feel too numb to realise that it is actually happening in real all over again.
With the first pregnancy I did not realise I was pregnant until I had excruciating pain in my lower abdomen accompanied with spotting and had to be taken to the emergency department. The happy news of my pregnancy was short lived until I passed tissues and clots that night.
It felt like how a kid would feel if someone gave them a chocolate and snatched it back. I cried and cried and cried and felt so empty and alone.
Until then I did not realise how common it is to lose an early pregnancy. Friends and family who shared their story of loss or that of someone else they knew were comforting.
I managed to pick myself up, I wanted to get something positive from the baby I lost. I gave up coffee, drinking and started eating healthier, meditated, placed all faith on God, consciously wanted to be a better person and help others where possible. I was obsessed with getting pregnant again.
About a month later, I felt I could be pregnant but since I wanted it so badly I couldn’t be sure if it was happening in real or just in my head. A week later feeling fatigued, especially in the mornings, I went to the GP and found a strong positive on the test. She advised me to follow up with epac immediately. I felt I was not able to feel all the happiness and excitement. That was all taken away from me and instead I was cautious and emotional. I couldn’t wait for the 12 weeks to pass to be happier.
Dating on the ultrasound was a struggle due to it being still early and straight after a miscarriage. Seeing a heartbeat and a due date on one of the ultrasounds was indescribably happy and I tried to contain my tears. However, we were told the heartbeat was low, probably because it was still early and asked to follow up two weeks later. The wait was gruelling. Tried to keep positive but couldn’t help the “what if there was no heartbeat” thought popping up.
I talked to my baby every day. Told her how much we love her and asked her to be strong. Prayed to God so much to give my baby a strong heartbeat and good health. And finally the day came, our worst fears were confirmed, there was no heartbeat. I don’t remember a time I felt so broken before. I just did not want to be alive. Second time in a row, why me?
My husband tried to stay positive to see the blood test results and it was very high. We were told that the heartbeat could have stopped just the day before. The blood test after a week was even higher and couldn’t help but hope may be the baby was still alive and may be it was due to the difficulty in dating it was misdiagnosed. But a week later, with a decreased bHCG level in blood, our hopes came crashing down again. I couldn’t help but just cry.
I chose expectant management. Four weeks after not finding a heartbeat, I still had no symptoms of miscarriage. I crazily convinced myself the baby was alive and the dip in bHCG was just a levelling off that usually happens between week 8 and 11.
I searched for misdiagnosed silent miscarriage stories and hoped mine would be one. The ultrasound four weeks later revealed a 7.5 week fetal pole and 9 week gestational sac. The sonographer said it appears fresh as if the heartbeat stopped beating only yesterday. It was heartbreaking to think my little jellybean is sitting inside me without knowing its heart has stopped. How can I choose to scoop it out in a surgery? With my bHCG much lower now, I chose to wait for it to happen naturally.
The most thoughtful gift I ever received was from the midwife, two pairs of baby shoes for the two little ones I lost. It now felt like they had identity. They were not my imagination. They actually really existed. My husband suggested I frame it with their names underneath.
All the positiveness I wanted to feel after the first one is gone, I’m really angry. I’m angry at my body for failing me twice and taking so long to pass the second one naturally.
My babies were real. My scar is real. It all goes easily unnoticed in a miscarriage. By sharing my story I somewhat get a feeling of validation I’m craving for my babies.
Reading stories shared by many others are inspiring and gives hope.
I’m thankful to support groups.
To all those mummies who are feeling like me today, we’ll one day get to hold our healthy screaming baby in our arm while we cherish out lost babies in our heart.
In memory of Diya and Isha.