A guest post by Cassie (@sayingthemword)
Two years ago, our story started with our first miscarriage. It was a complete shock, just like it is for everyone. We found ourselves navigating our way over completely unknown ground, but very much with an attitude of ‘it’s just bad luck’ and ‘next time everything will be fine’.
Fast forward to present day and we’ve gone through three more since then. Each one a completely different experience from the last. The first happened a couple of days before our 12-week scan, the second happened at 10 weeks, the third at 5 weeks, and our latest at 8 weeks. All of them were ‘missed miscarriages‘ and various scans showed none of the pregnancies had developed past 8 weeks, which in itself is a really difficult thing to hear. There’s never really a sign, and even worse, there’s never a reason.
After our second, I realised that I didn’t know any friends or family who had been through more than one miscarriage. And those who had gone through it had gone on to conceive relatively quickly after their loss, with a happy, healthy pregnancy in tow.
You know the one where you get a baby at the end? It’s so wonderful that this is the happy result for so many people, but what about those who are still struggling? I’ve often wondered: where are they? The others who don’t have their baby yet?
We are still stuck in a limbo land of uncertainty, and no amount of ‘happy-ending’ miscarriage stories are going to help at this point.
I started documenting out fertility and miscarriage journey through an account called @sayingthemword. I’m really keen to tell our story from a very ‘in the moment’ perspective, because, honestly, I think that’s when you need the most support.
Through my account, I’ve connected with so many incredible people who are going through similar experiences. There’s such a relief when you know that someone just gets it. They don’t need to say things like ‘don’t worry, it’ll happen’ or ‘at least you can get pregnant’ because they know how empty those words are. They completely understand how frustrated you are, how angry you are, and above all, how tired you are.
I feel like a fraud when I tell other people I’m tired, especially parents. What have I got to be tired about? But I am. Mentally and physically. Everything feels a little heavier, a little slower, requires more effort than it used to. I wonder if it comes back to the sense of feeling stuck. It’s been two years since we first found out we were pregnant, and it feels like we’ve made no progress whatsoever.
For the past two years, every single month for us, has revolved around getting pregnant, being pregnant, or miscarrying. It’s starting to feel a bit like when the sat-nav keeps telling you to ‘make a U-turn where possible’ except we just keep going back to exactly where we came from every time…
So where are we now? After waiting for that heart-sinking negative pregnancy result from our fourth miscarriage and the results of the foetal DNA testing they did after the D&C – nothing, no reason, all they could tell us was that it was a little boy – we’ve been referred to the recurrent miscarriage clinic in Bristol.
We’re currently in the thick of endless hospital appointments, medication, and non-explanations for why we can’t seem to grow a baby.
We just get through each day as it comes. There are good and bad days. Sometimes I feel like I’m absolutely fine (I got my hair done the week after our D&C and I felt like an absolute Queen for days. It’s amazing what a colour, cut and blow dry can do for your soul). But then a friend will announce she’s pregnant, and suddenly all the progress I’ve made crumbles into nothing. I’m right back in the sonographer’s room in our first pregnancy, hearing those crushing words: ‘I’m sorry, we can’t find a heartbeat’.
And then I cry, because it’s not fair. If I’m being really honest, it doesn’t seem to get easier, either. It’s something we just try and manage as best as we can. And I think we should all be proud we can even do that.
- Cassie blogs at: www.sayingthemword.com
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