Dealing with a miscarriage can be devastating. While many may pass off a miscarriage as a pregnancy that "just wasn't meant to be", these words rarely help to relieve your grief. Although a miscarriage can be an isolating experience, it doesn't have to be. Women who are or who have previously dealt with a miscarriage are often a great resource to those currently suffering from a pregnancy loss. Share your words with us and share your support with other women.
Why does this happen to so many women?
My partner and I of 5 years were trying to get pregnant for over a year with numerous pregnancy tests and checking of symptoms on the internet it just never seemed to happen and I thought there was something the matter with us.
I would see babies everywhere and someone you knew was always getting pregnant it was devastating to watch and each month with that little cramp twinge I would be crying and feel so lonely and let down and the fall would come again.
Then in December 2010 I was few days late and just feeling not normal I decided to take a test I just thought here it goes again I never though but yes the 2 lines showed up and I was delighted.
I never slept all that night, that week me and my partner talked about the baby all the time…what names, Prams, I even looked online at baby stuff clothes etc Just never thought anything to happen.
I was only around 6 weeks when I started spotting brownie coloured discharge I thought nothing of it as I had heard of this happening in early pregnancy I left it a few days and it started to get heavier and heavier but still no real bleeding and no cramps…
We went to Tesco supermarket and I felt a rush of blood I ran to the toilet and passed a clot of blood I knew it wasn’t right, I went to AnE and they booked me in for a scan, it was scheduled for a few days time, I knew there was nothing left I could just feel it a sense of emptiness but my partner kept his hopes up and kept saying it will be ok but I just knew.
I went for the scan and they couldn’t see anything they said it might be too early so I went in another room and the nurse took another pregnancy test which showed up negative and my HCG levels she says I would get the results on Christmas Eve.
Ever after all that my partner kept saying it will be ok it was annoying to be honest because I knew there was nothing.
Anyways Christmas eve came and the nurse rang she says my levels were at 30 and I’d had a miscarriage….
How could you be so happy to going so sad, well it was the worst Christmas of my life beside all that happening I had other personal issues with my partner that were killing me each day.
BUT I am now 23 weeks pregnant with a little girl, I got pregnant again pretty much straight away which was better then waiting another year, Each day I am scared and each pain I get worried when I first found out I just kept telling myself this wont last and I am still telling myself that now.
I won’t be 100% till I have my baby girl in my arms.
Women feel this pain there hole life the “fetus” might have only been 6 week old and didn’t even have legs but it was still my child and I’m sure every woman on here felt that way too.
Good luck to everyone out there.
A Bond Like No Other“Hello sweetheart,” I talked to you telepathically within my mind as I gently stroked my belly. “I’m going to be your mummy.” I had only just been given the good news, yet to me already you were a baby growing inside me. Not an embryo. Not cells dividing. Not any other medical jargon. To me you were always a baby. Most importantly of all, you were my baby.
To me it made sense. Rightly or wrongly I believed from the very beginning that you could hear me. We shared my body after all. Although separate, we were in fact one, for you grew inside me; my blood sustaining you as the miracle of life began to blossom inside me. I breathed for you, I ate for you and it made sense to me that until your brain formed properly and you were able to think for yourself, my thoughts were our thoughts.
Maybe you couldn’t hear me. I’ll never know for sure, but women are always warned how stress can affect their unborn children. So while you might not have been able to hear, it seemed reasonable to me that if you could feel my stress you could also feel my emotions. If I put my heart and soul into whatever I was telling you, you might not understand my words but you would feel the sentiment behind them. You could feel my love like a warm embrace as it wrapped protectively around you while you grew.
I spent three blissful weeks talking to you, loving you, making plans with you; promises for the future that we would soon share as soon as we welcomed you into the world. I never once stopped to consider that something might go wrong. I wasn’t being complacent; it wasn’t that I didn’t think it couldn’t happen to me, it was simply that I never once considered that I wasn’t going to go on to deliver a healthy and happy baby. As far as I was concerned you were meant to be.
Until the fateful day that the faintest tinge of pink stared up at me from the previously untainted toilet paper. My stomach dropped, you must have felt it too. “Okay,” I told myself as I drew a shaky breath, “Don’t panic.”
I knew any stress I might feel you would feel too, so I concentrated on the positives instead of dwelling on any possible negatives. Maybe that was naïve of me but I knew of women who had bled throughout their entire pregnancies yet went on to deliver perfectly formed little bundles of joy. However I also knew I needed to check it out as soon as possible; just to be sure.
My doctor was fully booked so I went to a 24-hour clinic. I told the Doctor what had happened and without examining me he told me that all first time mother’s experience paranoia and to just go home and forget about it. I couldn’t.
A seemingly endless night awaited me before I finally saw my own doctor the following morning and she did her best to reassure me that my spotting didn’t necessarily mean the beginning of the end, but she did agree that I was right in wanting to know just what was going on with my pregnancy. She did warn me though, that if I had an ultrasound it would give us the answers that we craved be they good or bad. A good result would ease my mind I told myself, still believing everything would be fine and within an hour I was at the hospital having my first ultrasound. Unfortunately because of the haste in which the ultrasound happened, your Daddy didn’t have time to leave work and get to our appointment so it was just you and me.
I was nine weeks pregnant. You were 4 mm long. Nothing prepared me for that ultrasound. Nothing could have. What I saw and what I felt is forever etched into my heart and mind. I saw a fuzzy image of you looking more like a grain of rice than a baby, but most importantly I saw your heart such a small dot on the screen beating so strong and steady. That image enchanted me; it made you more real to me. Though many do not believe you were really a baby that I lost, that image validates to me that you were not a figment of my imagination and that my loss was real for you were tangible not some untouchable dream.
With my ultrasound results in hand I returned to my doctor. She read the report and told me that although you were slightly smaller than expected, they had put my dates down to being eight weeks pregnant instead of nine; everything appeared perfectly normal with no cause for alarm. “Don’t worry my love; everything is going to be just fine,” I told you serenely.
The spotting continued. So slight it could not possibly be sinister yet it served as a simple reminder of the fragility of life. However I found myself taking things very easy all the same. I was still spotting when I went to my first appointment with my obstetrician.
I remember the feeling of relief flooding my system when she welcomed me into her office like an old friend. She told me how happy she was to be able to part of my journey as the miracle of life unfolded inside of me. She was so reassuring, she fooled me into thinking I would be in safe caring hands.
She performed her own ultrasound while I was there and she refused to let me see your image on the screen. Instead she told me matter of factually that she could arrange for me to have a curette performed immediately.
Her warm and caring demeanour was long gone. She was in the business of bringing new life into the world and I could see her discomfort of having to deviate from her usual practise. She was business-like and efficient and I could see that she just wanted me out of there. Her world was one of miracles and joy and in her opinion I no longer had any place in it.
I could not believe what she was telling me. “But nothing’s changed since my first ultrasound,” I told her. “If anything the spotting has lessened,” my voice wavered and tears coursed down my face.
“I’m sorry,” she shrugged looking more embarrassed than sorry. “The embryo just isn’t viable. In fact, I’m surprised that the heart’s still beating. Even so, I can arrange for a curette to be done even while there is a heartbeat.”
“No!” I was surprised by the vehemence of my reply but I could not, and would not agree to the curette while you were still alive.
“We can wait,” she sighed. “Many women in your position choose to wait despite the inevitability of their situation.” She seemed mildly annoyed that I wanted to continue the charade of a happy pregnancy, but I had not given up on you. I’d wanted you too long to give up without a fight.
I went home, feeling disillusioned and alone, but her words had sparked an anger inside of me, which was soon raging out of control like a fire within me. My most basic instincts took over, it was time for fight or flight; I chose to fight.
Where there was life there was hope. Love can overcome all obstacles I reminded us. Medicine might be prepared to write you off so easily but I would not. Instead I took to my bed and focussed all my energies onto you. I was told it would make no difference, but I felt safest in bed, as if we were somehow cocooned away from anything that could hurt us.
I continued to talk to you telepathically. I assured you how wanted you were, how much your Daddy and I loved you. I continued to make plans with you for the life I truly believed you would still have with us. Your first steps, birthday parties, starting school, your first kiss, learning to drive a car; all the things we longed to one-day share with you.
I even returned to my Catholic roots and began to pray. I prayed to God to spare my baby because He knew how loved you would be. I begged. I pleaded. I bargained. I poured out my soul to Him. I promised so many things if only He would allow you to live. And just to cover all my bases, as well as God, I also prayed to the Virgin Mary, mother to mother. If anyone would understand what my baby meant to me it would be Her because She was a mother too.
I continued to talk to you as well. I told you about our family. Our home. Our pets. The love Daddy and I had for you. The life we could offer you, hoping that would spark your survival skills. I told you not to lose hope. To fight. To let me fight for you. To just hold on. For every day you held on you would get a little bigger, a little stronger. If anything out there could save you it would be my love for you.
My wedding anniversary was a couple of days later and the only “present” I remembered receiving was when I got out of bed and went to the bathroom I noticed that instead of spotting there was a patch of angry red blood. I steeled myself for the obstetric appointment I had that afternoon.
I lay on the cold metal bed with a kindly nurse holding my hand supportively as my obstetrician performed another ultrasound. She was distant yet efficient as she worked in silence, unable to meet my gaze. There was so much I wanted to ask her, that I needed to say but I didn’t trust myself to speak without breaking down completely and I couldn’t afford a sign of weakness now. I had to be strong for the both of us.
The obstetrician’s words seemed so cold and clinical as she told me in an emotionless voice “that while the baby’s heart continues to beat, nothing has changed. It is just a matter of time; the embryo hasn’t been viable for some time now.”
How I wanted to scream at her, “That’s not an embryo, it’s my baby.” But I lay there as if mute while the words silently ricocheted around in my mind.
“No!” I finally found my voice and shook my head vigorously as if to emphasise my non-compliance when she once more recommended that it was time for a curette to be performed.
She shook her head and I could hear the pity in her voice when she spoke to me. Not pity because I was losing you, but pity because I was deluding myself to the inevitable outcome.
“If you should miscarry after hours, assuming you last that long, call the hospital directly and they will contact me if necessary. Otherwise ring me this afternoon here at the office,” and she turned and left the examination room effectively dismissing me.
It was the nurse who hugged me and told me she was sorry for my loss but that if there was a bright side in any of this it was that it would soon be over as she reiterated the doctor’s words that by morning you would be gone.
But they hadn’t told you that all was lost and so you continued to cling to life and defy the odds.
Back home I continued to pray to God, the Virgin Mary, Jesus, Angels, a Higher Power. Anyone at all that could hear my prayers; so desperate I was to save you. But most of the time I spent talking to you. Nurturing you, encouraging you, loving you. Willing you to live.
Nothing changed. You refused to concede. You fought to stay. You hung on and I loved you all the more for your fighting spirit. “If you’re tired little one, take a rest and let me protect you,” I would say and I became like a tigress protecting her cubs. I would let nothing harm you. To get to you, death
would have to come past me first. And so we continued to take it moment-by-moment, hour-by-hour, and day-by-day.
I could do this for nine months if that’s what it took.
I had been riding this roller coaster of emotion for 10 days when I finally felt my uterus begin to cramp, yet something told me, some mother’s intuition perhaps, that you were still alive, still striving to stay strong and fight. How proud I was of you, but I couldn’t do it anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I could have fought for you forever, but I wondered how you must feel inside my womb as it began to contract around you. Did it hurt? My heart broke to think of you in pain. I imagined you already weary from your struggle to survive now having to contend with yet another fight. I couldn’t do that to you, or wish that on you. I loved you far too much to ask you to stay for my benefit, if doing so would cause you pain.
“My love, it’s me, mummy again” I began. My brain tried to rebel, to numb itself from this fresh horror, as I knew in my heart what I had to do. Whether I liked it or not I had to do what I felt was right. I hated every second of it but I forced myself to tell you what I was feeling.
“Thank you so much for being my baby, for loving me as much as I love you. For fighting so long and so hard to stay with me. I will love you forever. I will never forget you. You are my baby and will always be a part of me in my heart and in my soul. But I know you must be tired and perhaps now in pain. You know how much I want you here with me, where you belong, but now it’s time for you to make a choice. A choice that only you can make. You need to put yourself first, so I want you to know that if you’ve struggled enough, if the pain is too great, if you decide it’s too hard or you need your soul to be somewhere else I will understand.”
Okay that wasn’t exactly true, I would never understand why this had to happen to us, but I would respect your decision and accept it as best I could. “If the time has come for us to say goodbye, just know that wherever you go a piece of my heart goes with you, as does my love. All I ever wanted for you was your happiness and for you to know how much I love you. Now the rest is up to you. If for any reason you feel the need to say goodbye I will let you go in peace and love but know one day we will meet again and it will be forever.” I don’t really know what happens to our souls once we die, but I needed so desperately to believe that we would be together again. I could not stand to think that this loss would be final; I needed some hope however flimsy to cling too as a way of coping with this waking nightmare I’d found myself in.
Distraught I could not go on. All I could do was fight my near hysteria because I didn’t want any more harm to come to you. I’d tried being as positive as I could but the stress was finally getting to me and I hated to think it was hurting you too. So I cried myself to sleep having placed all my trust in you to do what you felt was right.
I awoke some 4 hours later on the stroke of midnight. Something compelled me to get out of bed, I do not know what, only that my body was on some strange autopilot over which I had no control.
I made it to the end of the bed before you chose the time to say goodbye. In the midst of a crimson sea of blood you made your choice. You were gone.
Instantly I was overcome with hysteria and grief. Soon my mind just went numb and I felt nothing. I never said goodbye when you left. I couldn’t. There were no words, just a river of tears streaming towards the pool of blood you were born far too soon on.
I tried so hard to keep you here out of love and you fought so hard to stay, but in the end it was love that made me let you go. I could not bear the thought of you suffering on my account.
I was told that “time heals all wounds” though I’m not so sure about that. Thirteen years have passed and some days the pain is as fresh as when it first happened, but time has allowed me to learn to accept what we went through together. I still don’t understand it, but I have come to accept it and have finally found peace within myself; though it was a long hard road to get that far.
I don’t regret our experience for a moment, other than the way it ended of course. You made me wiser than I could ever have been without you and you taught me that I was stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. And now when I think of you, instead of crying because you couldn’t stay, I smile because you were here, even if it was only for the briefest moment in time.
I knew you were there-Baby boyI am 21 years old, I was about 2 1/2-3 weeks pregnant. I knew I was pregnant because I felt a change, it felt like something was there. I took a pregnancy test but it came back negative. The next day there was a lot of bleeding & blood clots & tissue looking blood. There was no pain or anything, just an empty feeling. About 5 hours later I started to have abdominal pains like crazy. It turned into my normal cycle. About 4 days after this happened, I went to sleep & I was instantly in a deep sleep. I saw my self sleeping, then I went somewhere. It looked like I was in clouds and then I saw a waterfall, a field of yellow flowers & red houses in the distance. There was a dirt path. I started walking down the dirt path & I saw 4 blue houses(2 blue houses on the right & 2 blue houses on the left) there was a playground in the middle & I saw a little boy about 2 years old on a swing. He got off the swing & came running to me. As he was running to me he was saying "Mommy Mommy Mommy". I picked him up & he hugged me for dear life. Then he said "Mommy, you don't have to worry anymore I am o.k. I love you Mommy & I'll see you soon". He hugged me one last time & then kissed me. I put him down & this 10 year old little boy who I believe is the son my mom miscarried, said " Elijah we have to go bud, their waiting for us". Then he turned around & said "Bye Mommy". I said good-bye & then I woke up. It was a freaky dream, but it really did make me rest easier. I guess I needed closure to know that my son is o.k.
My Little FumaniI lost my boy in January and I still find myself missing him and feeling the pain as if it happened yesterday. I was 5 minths preg and was already feeling a very strong bond with him. He was my first born and was looking forward to holding himin my arms. Well, I did however he was gone, he was too small. I held him there looked at him and that picture is always on my mind.
My Miscarriage/ A Graphic true storyHere is my story maybe telling a detailed description of what happend may help me move on.
I was starting my first over night shift at work it would be my first of 4 nights just to get more things done during the christmas rush.. It was late november . I was off birthcontrol for about 2 years and was convinced i could not get pregnant although i was 2 months late i had been many times before and got my hopes up for nothing and as usal my period started that night or so i thought so. So a few hours before my shift was supposed to start i was feeling pain in my lower back left side and it just felt like pressure i took 2 advil and went on my way to work. At work i felt a rush like my period was getting heavy so i went to the washroom and my tampon came out on its on with clots of blod attached to it. I thought i must be heaving an extremely heavy period and went back to work. The cramping in my back got worse and i kept feeling myself bleed more and more. I left work and went to er where i waitied 45 minutes in the chair soaking it in blood. They took me to a room and i continued to get more and more pain and pass more and more clots i did not think it was possible for one person to bleed that much and still be alive. They thought it could be a ruptered cyst.. Than the doctor came in and said the words " Your pregnant & probably having a miscarriage" The world stopped..the words i was dying to hear for years your pregnant how could they be accompined by something so terrible! I blamed myself how could i not know i was pregnant! They gave me painkillers and fluid through iv as i was bleeding everywhere and in such paid than they did an internal ultrasound and said they saw nothing..there was no explanaition no words of comfert nothing..i layed there till the next moring where i was wheeled upstairs to sit with the happy pregnant moms to wait for another ultrasound she took my blood and told me i was 9 wks and she saw nothing ultrasound and i could go home..i asked if they had a change of pants so they gave me stark white scrub pants and sent me on the way.. It was as if it never happend there was no follow up apointment..no words of advice i was on my own medical wise..i had my husband for support of course..I bled for the next 3 weeks straight till i felt something hard come out and there was a hard ball like clot like nothing ive seen before and the bleeding stopped & that was it it was over...
Page: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266