A first post - a post of loss (warning - miscarriage mentioned)

About two weeks ago I was quite excited to have finally got to my 12 week scan. I was 13 weeks along, and couldn't wait to share my news, as the next day was my birthday! And what a birthday gift I thought I had! This baby like my first was an IUI baby. It is a process in which I inject myself with hormones to help produce eggs as well as release them, and then my husbands sperm is inseminated into me. The cycle seemed perfect (my second cycle after the first failed), and I had already had a 6 and 7 week scan showing a perfect bub. It wouldn't be till 12 weeks till my next scan, but some spotting at 10 weeks had me rushing to an ultrasound where I saw my little baby moving and wriggling and waving it's little arms around. A wonderful heartbeat and perfect growth.

I remembered later that I did wake up the morning of the scan, with a feeling something went wrong. I went to the bathroom to check bleeding (there was none) and reminded myself the chance of miscarriage at 13 weeks after having a perfect scan at 10 weeks was less than 5% (and I have even read 1%). I completely put it out of my mind for when I finally got up. When we entered the room (my husband and son), the ultrasound technician asked how I was feeling (she did my 10 week scan) and I wanted to say I had some strange feelings below - but I didn't. I thought I was just over reacting. The scan started and she said the baby was asleep and was facing my back. It was in a bad position and I did wonder why I couldn't see the heart beating. I asked if it measured right - as it looked small to me, but she said the measurements were perfect. She then did an internal as the baby would not move position. And then an external. And then those words (or to this effect). "I have to be honest, I am having problems with this scan, I can't find a heartbeat and your baby won't move. I was stumped as it did measure correctly, but I am sorry this pregnancy is no longer viable". She gave us a moment. In a daze I got up, cleaned myself up, grabbed my son and walked out with my husband. I asked when did it die? And she said in the last few days, if that. We then went home and I just sat there.

I prayed my body would allow me to miscarry. So I would know for sure. I wanted to see my baby, hold it and let it know it was loved. But I never got that chance. I was booked in for a suction curette a week later - and by that time I knew. My uterus felt smaller, I could lie on my stomach, and generally I knew it was over. I would have been 14 weeks. I walked into the surgery trying to be brave but as they injected into me the anaesthetic all I could hope for was to go to sleep. I remember waking, and within a few moments crying again. My baby was really gone. And I had nothing left to remember it by. Just some early ultrasounds and my love in my heart for my little one.

I still am in shock that the supposed "12 week" mark is not as safe as it seems. I am so glad our scan was at 13 and not 12 weeks. I don't know what would have happened had I had a perfect scan to lose the baby suddenly. At least I had time to prepare. Time to say goodbye.

It now just over a week and I am trying to heal. Trying to move forward. Trying to be strong for the family that is here. But it is hard. I feel this longing and missing of this child. A child I was convinced was a girl - a much longed for daughter. But I cry at the thought of another son - a little brother to my amazing boy. I am trying to forgive myself, for reasons I will explain in future blogs.


I will post a lot more about my infertility issues caused by PCOS. And post a past blog about how I got pregnant with my son - and that journey, as it may help others. But right now I need to share my story of loss.