In 2012, my husband and I decided to start trying for a baby after 2 years of marriage. A few months went by and I discovered I was pregnant. We went to an obstetrician (recommended to us by my best friend). He was lovely but said it was too early to tell. There was a sac but nothing inside.
We went back 2 weeks later, eager to see our baby… But the sac was still empty. It was not a viable pregnancy so I underwent my first D & C.
We were told we could try again so we did. And a few months later…another positive pregnancy test. So back to the OB we went. I had some bleeding and wasn’t feeling quite right. The OB again told us, this was not a viable pregnancy. Another empty sac… nothing growing inside. Miscarriage number two. I underwent my 2nd D & C.
My OB decided to run every blood test he could think of but nothing startling came back. Nothing which would point to multiple miscarriages. I was young, healthy and desperate to be a mum.
We reluctantly tried again… This time, there was a little jelly bean starting to grow, a little heart beat, our little hope to be parents. This pregnancy was a nervous one. Every cramp or instance of spotting and I went straight to the OB, usually holding back tears, hoping our little bean would stay with us this time. We welcomed a beautiful, perfect daughter in December 2013, 18 months after we’d first decided to start our little family. She was text book perfect, and we were so blessed.
In 2015, we decided our girl needed a little brother or sister to play with. Thinking this would be easy after having a baby go to full term perfectly, we assumed things would be easier this time around. A positive pregnancy test and we were back to the OB. There was a sac, and a little bean, with a little heartbeat. So thankful!
At week 9 things started to change. Our scan revealed the baby’s heartbeat was slower than it should be. The OB gently explained that this wasn’t a good sign, and the baby probably wouldn’t survive. I couldn’t deal with the thought of another D&C while my baby was still holding onto life. For the next 3 weeks we went back to the OB for a scan, and each week baby’s heartbeat got slower and slower. Until the 3rd week, when the OB held my hand and said that our baby was gone and there was no heartbeat. Miscarriage number 3 and another D&C.
We were devastated. It was truly one of the saddest times of our lives. We didn’t want our little girl growing up alone, with no-one to play with, share with, laugh with, love with. So we tried again. A few months passed and a other positive pregnancy test. The excitement of a positive was gone. It had become a process. We went back to the OB and this little bean was healthy. The OB put me on Clexane injections into my stomach every night. It was tough. Not glamorous at all… But growing well and past 10 weeks, I decided I would go to the OB appointment on my own. Terrible decision.
The baby was measuring well, and then I asked the OB to check baby’s heartbeat – something I’d become quite obsessed with. The OB had to search for a while, he found a weak heartbeat, not as fast as it should be. This was a new level of devastation. I could barely breathe. He was so gentle and kind. He held my hand and made an appointment for my husband and I to visit in a week.
I called my husband in absolute hysterics, I could not believe this could happen again. It seemed so cruel, so harsh, and just so sad.
We went back to the OB at 11 and a half weeks. Our baby was gone. No heartbeat. Even the OB had tears in his eyes as he told us we’d lost our baby. Even he was shocked. Miscarriage number 4 and another D&C.
At this stage, I was reluctant to try any more. I was broken. We were undecided whether we should try again. The births of so many babies around us was a kick in the guts. Literally. When my brother and his wife welcomed their baby in 2016, I should have been 7 months pregnant. This one hit us hard. I cried on the kitchen floor for a day, seeing them announce the birth, posting family photos, being happy and urging me to come and visit their new bundle. I gave myself that day to just say no. To stay away. The next day I put on a brave face and visited. It was hard. So so hard.
A month after that, a faint line appeared on a pregnancy test. I went through 3 packets of home tests after that. The line became stronger. Please God, let this be our baby. Sure enough, a little bean appeared, with a heartbeat. Baby grew stronger and bigger with each appointment. Again, I was on Clexane for the first 25 weeks… But it must have worked because in May 2017, we welcomed another beautiful and precious daughter.
Both girls are perfect. They are 5 and 2 now, adore each other and they’re everything we’d hoped and prayed for. My Christian faith in God and love of my husband got me through the darkest of days. My husband and I stuck by each other so steadfastly. It made us stronger than ever. We are so thankful for our girls.
Things could have turned out so differently for us. We have a deeper level of appreciation for our children, our little gifts from God. Nothing and no-one will ever be able to take away the pain of losing our babies. My girls have not replaced them as some might think. Rather, they make me appreciate being a mum and hold my girls that little bit longer every night at bedtime.
I hope my story gives you hope. I will never understand why our journey to parenthood was harder than others… But we also know it wasn’t as hard as others too. And we are truly blessed to have our girls, they are beyond anything we could have dreamed. Our little ones lost will always be the tiny footprints on our hearts.
by, Amanda
