When I last left you it was Monday morning, 3 days after my dating scan. Before I get into it I want to preface the post with this – if you’re currently at the start of your pregnancy, do NOT let this scare you.
When I arrived at the office I started to have what I can only describe as a mild, period like cramp. It was very faint. I was determined that I wasn’t going to panic. I’d read that cramping and some spotting during the early stages of pregnancy is quite common and normal. As the day went on, the pain increased, slowly but steadily and I started to spot a tiny bit. By 4:30pm I was starting to think that this might not be the “normal” level that I’d heard about & I left work. I wasn’t in a huge amount of pain, it was just uncomfortable, so I made an appointment to see my GP the next day just to be sure.
I got home, made a hot water bottle and curled up on the lounge in my PJ’s. I’d told hubby not to rush home and that it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. The cramps were increasing in intensity but again, it wasn’t to a level where it was very painful or that I thought at any point “I should call someone or go to the hospital or something”. Then at about 7pm (I’m trying to think how to describe this experience without it being too graphic but at the same time make it informative if you know what I mean? I assume most of you reading this are women so hopefully you can take it)…. basically, the best way I can explain what happened next was that it was as if someone turned a tap on. I have never experienced anything like it. I ran to the bathroom immediately and, let’s just say, it was graphic and confronting and intense. There was a lot of blood. A lot. And well, I wasn’t expecting to see the actual little being that had been growing inside me. There he or she was, still in the sack and everything. It was horrific but at least I knew straight away it was over. There wouldn’t be any waiting for a blood test or a scan to know that this little one wasn’t meant to be.
So I sat in the bathroom and I cried, and cried and cried. I’m not sure how long I was there but I don’t think it was all that long. Maybe 20mins. I was trying to process what had just happened. I started to clean up. I heard the keys in the door of Sam arriving home so I got myself tidy and pulled myself together a bit but as soon as I opened the bathroom door (and quickly closed it again because it looked like a crime scene & I didn’t want him to see that), when I saw Sam’s face I lost it again. I didn’t have to say anything. He knew. So he held me, I cried, maybe he did too, I can’t remember. It was a blur. I cleaned up the bathroom, had a long shower, cried some more and got into bed. It had been a very long time since I’d softly cried myself to sleep by I did that night. Poor Sam, I don’t think he knew what to do but he was there and that was the main thing.
So it was done. I knew it could happen, I’d heard it was common, but I’d never really considered the fact that it could happen to me and I’d never known anyone who’d had one…..or at least I thought I didn’t know anyone who had.
More on the aftermath and the beginning of discovering the unspoken heartache so many women carry with them in the next chapter.
Thanks for reading and please don’t be sad. There’s good news to come in this story and a couple more curve balls as well.