Today would have been ‘V’ day. The day from which the chances of survival should you give birth are 50% and rising.
Ben and I have got back in to a routine since the miscarriage. We’re back at work. We laugh with my daughter. Our minds are no longer completely consumed with thoughts of our baby and our hearts are no longer completely consumed with grief. And yet we both struggle to come to terms with the fact that I won’t be giving birth in March.
I cry almost every day for the baby we lost. Sometimes a silent tear on the train when I see something that triggers a thought. Sometimes sobs that rock my body as I have a moment of realisation that our baby isn’t coming. The grief has become less obvious to everyone, even me, but it is still there, silently breaking my heart over and over again. The one thing that saddens me the most is that we don’t know nor did we chose the final resting place of our baby…
We had the post mortem results a couple of weeks ago. There is seemingly no reason that our baby died. It was “just one of those things”. It is good news that there wasn’t anything wrong, it means the likelihood of it happening again is less. It doesn’t make it any easier to come to terms with though. If there were a reason it would be easier to understand why we’ll never get to hold our baby.
Our baby was a boy. My arms ache to hold him, I long to see his face and to feel his sweet breath on my cheek. We named him Henry. Henry Harrison-Chu.
I’ve never met Mel, but we’ve talked via Facebook often. She is a truly inspiring woman and helped me so much with my recent loss. Here is an article about her story.
Mel Scott treasures the video footage of her baby son’s first bath.
Rinsing the suds from his skin, she talks tenderly to him – marvelling at his tiny fingers and toes and perfect button nose – before wrapping him in a soft towel.
It’s only when you look closely that you realise baby Finley never makes a sound or even opens his eyes.
And apart from Mel’s loving murmurs the room is quiet.
Sadly, Finleydied just before being born.
Read the whole article here: Stillbirth: Mother Mel Scott tells of the heartache she suffered as she kissed her stillborn baby boy goodbye – Mirror Online.
Today I’m 15 weeks pregnant. Except I’m not. As of 9am this morning my womb is empty and my baby gone.
I am no stranger to the heartache of miscarriage, but I really thought things were going to be ok this time. This is my first second trimester loss and it is utterly devastating.
On Monday, 2 days ago, I went in to the hospital for a routine appointment. I am classed as high risk due to my antiphospholipid syndrome and my thyroid disorder. At 15 weeks it’s a little early to hear the baby on the doppler but the consultant said she’d try anyway. She couldn’t find a heartbeat, but told me it didn’t mean anything necessarily. Diligently, to reassure me and bearing in mind my history she offered to send me round for a quick scan so that I could see the heartbeat before I went home.
2 weeks ago I had the Nuchal Translucency Scan. It was my 3rd scan as they were monitoring me closely. Baby was so active and wriggly. The sonographer tutted a lot as the baby wouldn’t cooperate and was moving so much that they couldn’t get an accurate measurement to assess my risk of Downs. Eventually after 2 hours, quite a bit of sugar and a lot of jiggling about they got the measurement we needed and I was classed low risk for Downs and Trisomy 13/18.
I wasn’t nervous or worried as I waited for the “bonus” scan on Monday. I know how unreliable dopplers can be, having panicked myself during my last pregnancy with a home doppler. As I went in to the ultrasound room with the registrar all I was worried about was getting back to work as soon as possible.
I knew something wasn’t quite right as he didn’t show me the heart straight away. It’s standard practice that they look for it first and show you as soon as possible. After a few minutes he went to fetch his colleague. My heart started to race. The consultant looked at the ultrasound as the registrar re scanned me. All the while he asked me questions about my previous losses. After 5 minutes he turned to me and said “I’m sorry, we can’t find a heart beat”.
I crumpled. The news was so devastating. In a blur I phoned my partner and my family and the consultant talked me through my options. I was just on the cusp of being able to opt for surgery or I could take some tablets and miscarry the baby “naturally”. With the baby measuring 9cm I didn’t think I could cope with essentially giving birth and seeing my tiny tiny baby. I opted for surgery which was booked for a few days later, today.
They call it a silent miscarriage. My body didn’t tell me that anything was wrong. My baby died and I didn’t know. Its hard not to wonder what I could have done differently. It’s hard not to feel like my body failed my baby, that I, in some way, failed my baby. The physical healing will take a few days. The emotional healing for both my partner and me will take a lot longer.
We are currently looking for a sponsor for this year’s concert in aid of the Baby Loss Awareness Campaign. If you are interested or know someone who might be, please follow this link: http://www.uksponsorship.com/a1584.htm
I am organising the concert again this year for Sunday 14th October. The venue will be the same as in previous years, the Leicester Square Theatre.
At each of the events so far we have shown a slide show at the end of the concert of messages people have written to or about the babies they have lost. This year I would like to invite songwriters out there to submit a piece to be used as the soundtrack to this slide show.
It needs to be between 4-5 minutes long. The only stipulation to the content of the song is that it is not religious. Having said that, “angel” is a common way of people referring to the babies they have lost and therefore is allowed. To give you an idea of style, in the past we have used Sarah Mclachlan’s Angel.
The competition is open to anyone, professional or not. The “winner” will have their piece recorded and used for the slideshow. They’ll also received a pair of VIP tickets to the event.
To Enter please send submissions via the Contact Me page.
Closing date for the competition is Friday 31st August 2012.
Today is international infant and baby loss awareness day. I am auctioning a Teddy for the charity Aching Arms. To support this great charity please visit the auction site here.
This video was shown at the concert in aid of the Baby Loss Awareness Campaign last night.