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A Missed Miscarriage

Author: Becky Sappor

I knew what I was looking for; a tiny human shaped being, maybe rolling around or blowing bubbles or maybe just having a sleep. But instead there was nothing. Nothing but a small black space staring back at me from the monitor opposite. I’d had a missed miscarriage. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

My baby had stopped developing at around 6 weeks but I hadn’t visibly miscarried. My body had absorbed most of the pregnancy tissue but there was still some remaining and therefore my body still thought it was pregnant. My bump was still growing, my boobs were still sore. My baby was now just ‘pregnancy tissue’. The words reverberated around my head.

My initial thoughts? How could I still be pregnant but there be no baby? How did I have a small bump but there was no baby? What a stupid body I had to think there was a baby when there was no baby. How on earth do I explain that to the few people who knew I was pregnant, least of all my Mother in Law who was at my house waiting for us to come bounding through the door with photos of our second child? And then there was my own Mom. Words seemed to fail me.

It’s a hard time. A hard time for you and a hard time for the people around you. I never realised what an outward impact something like this has on your family as a whole.

I deal with things quite internally. I don’t often share my worries, or I certainly don’t share them easily if I do. I went through all the logical steps in my brain; there must have been something wrong with the baby for it to stop growing etc. I’d later learn that this is no time for logic. I think it was more shock really. I didn’t cry for quite some time.

I told the few people who knew about my pregnancy. People are lovely and they want to reassure you and they want to support you, try to make you feel better and so they mainly tell you that ‘it’s ok because you’ve got Leo and you know you can carry a baby’, or ‘It’s ok because you’re young and there’s loads of time for you to try again for another one’. And yes, whilst those things are true, and I sincerely appreciated the support, in that moment those things don’t actually matter. The miscarriage wasn’t about what I already had or what I might have again in the future, it was about the baby I’d just lost. The baby I loved from the second I knew it was in my tummy. The baby that I’d pondered about for 9 weeks so excited to see it for the first time, thinking about the times we’d share together, about how he or she would fit into our family, the baby that had left my heart in a thousand pieces.

I had to wait two weeks to see if my body would miscarry the remaining pregnancy tissue. It didn’t. This was a really low time for me. I mean, what a crap body I had. So crap in fact that not only could it not hold on to my baby but it couldn’t even miscarry it properly. What a failure.

I will NEVER be that awful to myself ever again.

Two weeks passed and I went for an ultrasound. The remaining tissue had decreased in size but it was still there. That left me with two options; medical management or a minor operation. I couldn’t grieve. As far as I was concerned my baby was still with me. I hadn’t lost it yet. I hoped a million times that they were wrong and that suddenly it would appear to them on the scan.

Long story short, I opted to stay in hospital and take the medical management route, I thought it might help to start grieving if there was some physical sense of loss too. Two failed attempts later I ended up having to have the minor surgery anyway. So four days after I was admitted, I was sent home. I feel I need to state at this point that the care I received from our wonderful NHS Nurses and Doctors was very good. I was so very well looked after, but not only that, I was understood. They understood what was happening, they were patient and they were more supportive than I could ever imagine them to be.

It was a frustrating ‘process’. Weeks after my operation I was still receiving positive pregnancy tests because my hormones still hadn’t returned to normal so I was back in for a further scan to make sure everything was clear. My hormones eventually went back to normal and it was at that point that it really sunk in. I pulled on my work to keep me busy and occupied, only taking one day off during the whole ordeal, even working whilst in hospital. It wasn’t that I wasn’t feeling upset, distraught, completely numb, but I sort of felt a bit in limbo. It was almost like until I got that negative pregnancy test I was still holding onto something and then the moment I saw that test was negative, I let go. And I cried. A lot. I finally let myself grieve for what I’d lost, for all the hope I’d had, for all the beautiful moments that were to come but I knew now I’d never see.

When these things are sent to test us, it is very easy to internalise everything (something I’m guilty of), very easy to feel sorry for ourselves but we must make sure we don’t lose sight of those around us as well. In these situations, there is mainly another half to the story. A husband, a partner… Someone. Someone else who has also lost a baby. Someone who is walking on eggshells around you because they are petrified of making you cry, someone who knows that they can’t possibly imagine what you are going through. If you are one of those people I feel for you. It’s an impossible time for you too. But let me tell you this. Don’t be afraid to ask if she is ok. Don’t be afraid that by asking how she’s feeling you will remind her of what’s happened and cause her pain. I can guarantee that she thinks about her baby at least every minute of the day and so your questioning won’t be a reminder of what’s happened, but a reminder that you care. It will be a reminder that you’re concerned for her. That you feel pain too. She doesn’t want to deal with this alone. She wants you to be there and she needs to know you care. Her heart is breaking for you too even if she forgets to tell you.

It has now been a year, almost to the date that I found out I was pregnant. I miss my baby with everything I have. I love it as much now as I did on the day I found out I was pregnant. It is still always on my mind.

It has taken a long time for my body to feel ‘normal’ again and it’s only this month that things seem back on track. I’m positive about the future and I hope one day we are lucky enough to have another baby. But I will never forget this little one. It will forever hold a place in my heart and I will love it for all of my life.

One thing I have taken from the whole experience is that I need to open up more. I need to talk more, I need to share more. We all do. It can be hard, and hard to find a place to talk about this sort of thing. It’s hard for friends to understand and it can be a lonely time but your friend hasn’t asked how you are for a couple of days because she’s scared of hurting you, it’s not because she doesn’t care.

The only way we can make sure that we aren’t alone is by sharing. It’s by talking to our loved ones or medical professionals and trying to make them understand how you feel. It’s up to us to be open and honest and to help each other. I couldn’t believe once I started sharing how many other women had experienced a miscarriage in one form or another and that’s women I knew but I’d seemed to miss this part of their lives. Miscarriage is often very overlooked because outwardly, there are no signs and very few people probably know about the pregnancy to start with. We must start opening up and making it something that is ok to talk about.

If you want to share your story, maybe you never have before, please do so in the comments box below. And thank you for reading mine. It has been truly cathartic writing it down like this.

Author: Becky Sappor

114 thoughts on “A Missed Miscarriage

  1. Ah Becky, what a truly beautiful post today. I really feel for you as I went through exactly the same thing. That was before I had my gorgeous Louis. Everything you said is true. I often wonder what that baby would have been like to this day and how our lives would have been so different. But I write this whilst playing with my gorgeous Louis who wouldn’t be here if I had had that baby and I can’t imagine life without him. So you will no doubt have your lovely ‘Louis’ soon and it’ll get easier!! Our little angel babies will be together looking down. Lots of love Becky. What a brave lady to write down your feelings like that. Xxxxxx

    1. Thanks Lisa, I was really nervous about it going live as it’s such a difficult thing to express, especially in such few words. I have a good friend who said exactly the same about her lovely baby and that if it wasn’t for her miscarriage, Liv would never be here. Lots of love to you too.

  2. Becky I just wanted to say that you are very brave sharing your story. I write something similar if my fears at scan time ‘that nothing would be there’. I was lucky, and I never really realised how lucky until now. I too find writing cathartic and I hope it has helped to write it down. But you know the nicest thing? By writing about your experience you may have helped someone else – or even the friends & family of someone else going through the same thing. I cannot imagine how it must have felt for you at that time – but you have explained it so well and I too have learned something new today as I had never heard of this. Great post – take care Dee x

    1. I’d felt a bit sick the whole time in fear of nothing being there, as I did with Leo and I think you always plan for the worst in your head but it doesn’t help you when the worst becomes reality. I really hope it helps in some way, even if it’s one person. Thanks so much for your comment and I have been following your blog and wish you all the best x

  3. You’ve made me cry and it’s not even 8am. I think it’s amazing that you are talking about it lovely – I know I’d never heard of a missed miscarriage until you told me about it, it’s good to be aware of these things so that if it does happen you don’t feel like there’s something wrong with yourself and it’s your ‘stupid body’ – it is something that many others go through. It’s also a great point about it being someone else’s story, I guess when something hits you so hard you can easily forget how it might be affecting others too, it takes great strength but shows wonderful caring characteristics to do so (and you have these aplenty!). I’ll ALWAYS be that person here if you need to share anything, even all the stupid little things you think no-one else will bothered with. Love you forever and always! L xx

  4. Becky, you are a truly inspirational lady and so brave to share to share this story. Miscarriage is one of the most unthinkable things that can happen during pregnancy and as you said is unbelievably hard for not only you, but those around you too. Before having Molly I had two early miscarriages, at about 7 or 8 weeks, and it is such a heartbreaking time. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to experience a miscarriage at a later stage of pregnancy. I find it strange how people just don’t seem to talk about it and you are right that people need to open up. At work I just carried on, even the day it happened, as I guess for some reason you don’t want people to know you are trying for a baby. Keep strong and your usual happy smile on your face and you will get through this. Big hugs and love xxx

  5. A lovely post, I’m sure it has taken a lot to be able to fully open up but I’m sure this post will resonate with a lot of other people.
    We found out about our missed miscarriage on Christmas Eve 2012. We didn’t tell many people at the time but I distinctly remember the thing I disliked the most was how much of a taboo subject it seemed to be when spoken about. People really did care but if they hadn’t faced it themselves then they, quite understandably, had no idea what to say and would often quickly change the topic.
    It took until after having our daughter at the end of 2013 for both my Husband and myself to fully open up about it.
    Circumstances meant my husband was able to publicly bring more awareness to the topic and he’s now an ambassador for the Miscarriage Association and through various opportunities has raised over £25,000 for them, but more than that he has raised so much more awareness of miscarriage, especially for men who are also suffering the sadness of a loss.
    We suffered another miscarriage in January this year, a chemical pregnancy, and even though we had experience of miscarriage it didn’t make it any less painful to go through.
    I sit writing this post whilst holding my 1 week old baby boy, so whilst it may not mean much to those suffering, there is always hope. You are not alone.

    1. Oh Laura. How heartbreaking. I didn’t know there was such a thing as a chemical pregnancy so thank you for bringing awareness of this.

      It is so reassuring to see the positive light at the end of other peoples tunnels and it really gives me hope. And massive well done to your husband for all of his wonderful efforts. You sound like a great team. xx

  6. Beautifully written Becky and so poignant.
    You are one courageous and resilient lady and I admire you so much. Lots of love and hugs to you x

  7. Becky,

    Thank you….For someone currently going through this you’ve put into words what I’m struggling to tell myself and others around me. Thank you for sharing your story you’ve made today a more positive day as I set off for yet another appointment at the EPU. Xxx

    1. Zoe, it’s so hard isn’t it? And I’ve used the word hard a lot because I think it’s so apt. I think it takes a while for you to accept and understand what is happening to you and so therefore to try and make someone else accept and understand feels near impossible. I hope the rest of your journey through this is bearable. You can get through it. We are so much stronger than we realise. Always here if you need to come back for more chat. Sending you lots of love today x

  8. I’m sorry about your MMC Becky, and that you had such a hard time with the outcome – I think it delays coming to terms with the whole process if you’re waiting for a clear pregnancy test for weeks, it must have been very hard.

    Before I had our daughter I had three miscarriages; one very early, one ‘blighted ovum’ (where the fertilised egg just doesn’t turn into anything) and one MMC – which we found out about at the 12wk scan, after seeing a heartbeat at 7 weeks. Two of them happened spontaneously and I opted for the operation for the MMC as I didn’t want to wait any more for it all to be finished.

    Like you, I felt very let down by my body. It felt like having a baby was one of the fairly fundamental things which made you female and I wasn’t able to do that. The second miscarriage was the worst; we’d read all the statistics about it happening to lots of people and 1/4 pregnancies ending like that – so we didn’t expect it to happen again. By the third, I’d stopped getting so emotionally involved – either it would work or it wouldn’t.

    It affects your relationship as well, it’s very easy when you’re grieving to lash out at the person closest to you, as they’re an easy target and know what you’re going through. By the time I got pregnant with our daughter, we’d decided that this was our last try for a while, if it didn’t work out we would stop for a year and get ourselves together. Luckily it did work.

    After you have three miscarriages you can be referred for further testing, which we had. Unfortunately it often doesn’t show anything untoward, which was what happened in our case. Being under a consultant during early pregnancy the 4th time was a good thing though as I had a number of early scans, which on their own can lead to a better outcome in cases of recurrent miscarriage. And they did!

    I’m pregnant again now and the first 12 weeks were extremely stressful for us both; we ended up having two reassurance scans before the NHS dating one. It’s going well though, so far, which is a relief – when we started trying for our daughter I was 25 which is very young to have unexplained miscarriages, I’m 30 now and wondered if it would make things worse.

    I talk about the miscarriages a lot. I think it’s important to ignore the unspoken taboo so that people know how common they are: that it’s not their fault. It’s just one of those things and you’re STILL statistically more likely to end up with a baby than not when you fall pregnant, 3/4 pregnancies do work out.

    1. Sara congratulations on your baby girl and your current pregnancy, I hope you are finding you are able to enjoy this one a little bit more. Thank you so much for sharing your story. Like you say, there are so many women affected baby and I’m sure your words will help reassure women in a similar position to you. Thanks again for sharing; my greatest aim for this post was to get women to do exactly that. Lots of love and luck with everything x

  9. Becky, thank you for sharing your story even though it did make me cry. Having had an early miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy your post really resonated with me. As you and others have said it’s such a taboo subject and really needs to be talked about more. Big hugs to everyone sharing their story in the comments.

  10. Bec I have read ur post walking to work this morning and I cried all the way. Absolutely beautiful and thank you for sharing, I bet it was very hard to write and very emotional for you all over again. As a friend to hear you going through all that and not being able to help you is heart breaking. You are such an amazing person and so caring absolutely bloody amazing. I am here always when you need a shoulder to cry on to moan on or to just listen 2.. Love you x

  11. Thank you for sharing your story and I am sorry you experienced this loss. This post struck a chord with me, I experienced a miscarriage 6 weeks ago and I was 15 weeks pregnant. It’s not something I have been able to talk about, no one knew I was pregnant and it’s not necessarily something that I want to share. We are taking it a day at a time and still trying to come to terms with losing our daughter but we have chosen to do that privately because we feel it’s easier for us to deal with that way and for us we feel it is private, as is our grief.
    I do however appreciate anyone who is able to openly talk about their loss because it makes me feel less alone in grief. I don’t feel the subject is ‘taboo’ anymore I just think it’s something some couples choose to keep private. Your post is perfectly written and I’m sure will help many people who are privately going through the same sad experience. Thank you

    1. Hi Helen. I’m really sorry to hear about your loss. It is a very personal thing and I can completely understand you keeping it private. I wish you all the best for the future x

  12. Becky you truly are very very brave for sharing this. I’m glad getting it all down in writing and out there has helped… why is it that these things which are so hopelessly painful are the ones that we internalise?

    I can only imagine your pain, but I guess I can connect in many ways too – reading your story has helped me, and I agree completely that opening up really does help. When we finally told our wider friends and family about our experiences with infertility, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted and we didn’t have to keep being silent and ‘brave’. To be honest it’s a bit of a relief that I don’t have to explain why I’m ‘not pregnant yet’ anymore to those well-meaning aunts/uncles/random people who think its appropriate to ask.

    I have so much respect and admiration for all you brave women sharing your experiences here today. Thank you Becky for being so open and honest, im sure you’ve helped a lot of people today xxx

    1. Oh Karen! The number of times I got asked ‘so when is Leo going to have a little brother or sister?’ in the immediate months that followed the miscarriage was astonishing.

      You are going to be an amazing Mommy to the little one that ends up in your care and I look forward so much to keeping up to date with your journey xxx

      1. And me with yours Becky.

        With other people I guess you just have to remind yourself that they think they’re being kind, but allow yourself the space to be angry and upset. xxx

        1. Absolutely. I think they only ask because they are excited about your future and that’s what naturally people assume is to come next and they don’t mean any harm or upset by it. x

  13. So accurate! I’m currently in my 5th pregnancy. Due to drop in 2 weeks. I have one little girl already. I had one missed miscarriage at 9 weeks when I was 21. I remember one of the boys at uni saying “at least you know you’re not a Jaffa!” Like it made it alright…. I allowed myself to live life like a failure for 9 years, always underestimating myself until my little girl came along and I literally felt suddenly super human!!! Confidence creeping back I started new projects/embarking on a new career that hopefully she could one day be really proud of me for… And I could make it fit around my small super important little person! When she was 18 months old we were absolutely delighted to find out I was pregnant again…. I reached 12 weeks to the day. I was in a caravan with my parents when I lost a small amount of blood. That turned 24 hours later into a tsunami…. I never knew or appreciated how much work your body does in those first 12 weeks. I was in and out of A&E as I kept passing out. Then the following Monday taken to a windowless room to be told what I already knew. My world became a bit of a box ticking exercise punctuated by a crazy effort to get pregnant again. The only way I felt I could heal. My first normal period came went and four pregnancy tests later at about 6 weeks I was back at the epu after that double loss my odds at ever actually staying pregnant felt pretty slim. We took a 3 month break while we moved house. My mum kept saying unhelpful things like “new house, new baby”…. Apparently it’s a thing….. Anyway my due date is 9 months to the day since we moved in, so maybe there’s something in it!… I don’t for one second believe there is a baby due in 2 weeks, I’m still weighing up all the complications/ways my body can fail my small baby…. But fingers crossed I’ve got it this far, we may get lucky… I completely relate to the comment above and I would never change the journey because it’s given me one beautiful little girl I literally couldn’t be prouder of. Fingers crossed another soon. That said the overwhelming failure of my “crap body” I allowed to leak into every aspect of my life…. Actually it’s true 1 in 4 pregnancies end badly and that’s the ones they know about…. If I mention my miscarriages people tend to get a bit stuffy and clam up a bit…. It is normal though, and I hope for everyone that’s been through it they can feel a sense of “normal” sooner rather than later.

    1. Good luck with the birth of your second little Kate and thank you so much for sharing your story with us all. You sound like you have turned the most awful of experiences into the most positive outcome and I’m sure your little ones will be super proud of you!

      I just moved house so lets hope its true 😉

  14. Hey Becky..

    Have just read through your story and it brought me to tears.. Being 3 weeks from giving birth to my second son you have just reminded me how incredibly lucky I am to be beginning the journey of new motherhood again.

    A year before I had Fabian I lost a baby at 6 weeks. At the time it was emotionally and physically draining! I often felt like it was a taboo subject and that I shouldn’t talk about it, something too personal to share with people around me and my husband.

    But you are definitely right it really does help talking and sharing your experience.. And realising and accepting it’s not something you wrong, it’s just that that baby wasn’t meant for this world for one reason or another. It’s very easy to blame yourself, your body for not being good enough. But once you can accept that it wasn’t you, you can come to some peace with in yourself.

    I am a strong believer in everything happens for a reason.

    Feeling very blessed right now and thank you for sharing your story.


    1. Such an exciting time for you and your lovely little family. I hope you have a ore plain sailing labour with this one 🙂 Good luck with everything and thanks for your lovely and reassuring comment x

  15. Thank you for such a brave and honest post about something so very lonely and isolating. So sorry for not only the loss of that little person, but also all your hopes and dreams about his or her future.
    It is incredibly difficult sometimes being part of the online world in which babies and pregnancy appear to be the easiest and loveliest thing in the world when actually, to you, it has crushed you. A year ago last week my beautiful boy and girl twins were stillborn at 34 weeks. The word stillborn is as taboo as miscarriage and actually, that’s one of the hardest things. I can relate to your words about people’s comments, it’s so awkward they just don’t know what to say when actually the only thing to be said is ‘I’m so sorry that happened to you, how are you doing today?’
    There are a million more things I could say but I’ll just say thank you again for your honesty and such a brave post xxxx

    1. Oh Hannah. I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine what you must be going through. Rock My Family aims to be real. To talk about real things, real life and unfortunately, this is real life. I found it hard to try and sum everything up in such a short space as like you say, there are a million more things you could say.

      My thoughts are with you at this really difficult time. I hope you are able to find the strength to get through it and have people you can reach out to. We are here if you need to talk… sometimes it’s been easier to talk to strangers xx

  16. Well done for writing this post and massive hugs to you because it does hurt and you don’t forget.

    I agree talking helps – i am 4 weeks post ectopic number 2 and I have talked this time and whilst it is not easier it’s much better not having to hide the sadness, anger, frustration and disappointment in my body on a daily basis. When I am having a crap day at least people understand this time. I feel desperately sad and cross that it’s happened again. I hadn’t even known I was pregnant but we were trying and hoping for another baby.

    I was ‘lucky’ first time round in that I didn’t lose my tube, this time unfortunately I did as it ruptured and it’s the opposite one to last time so whilst I have two beautiful children that are my life I am left desperately sad and scared of trying again. There is no explanation my tubes are clear and everything is fine which is almost worst as no real explanation.

    Anyway great but sad post for a wonderful new blog.

    Oh and my Ottilie and sing a rainbow banners are wonderful and I hope to add to them sometime in the future.

    Good luck clever lady xx

    1. Isn’t that the most difficult part at times? The fact that there is no explanation for it? There’s no one to ‘blame’, no way of saying ‘oh ok so that’s why it happened’… It’s just so unknown. Especially in mine and your circumstances.

      I’m really hopeful that I can make some more baby bunting for you in the future. Keep me updated and good luck with everything xx

  17. I absolutely sobbed reading your words. You are incredibly strong at sharing your story. I’d never heard of a missed miscarriage before but also reading the support I can offer someone who is going through that pain. Thank you so much for sharing your emotions so openly and letting us in.

    You are wonderful, thank you for what you hve taught me by bearing your heart to us all xxxxx

  18. So brave for sharing your story.
    I unfortuantely have had 3 miscarriages and all are so totally devastating and I was exactly the same as you (on all 3 occasions) I hated my stupid body and that it couldn’t grow my babies.
    I had 2 miscarriages before my first child and not only was I grieving for the loss of these babies but also worried that I would never have my dream of becoming a mummy.
    My 3rd miscarriage happened on my little girl’s 1st Xmas actually on Xmas day… And I loathed my body for that as it should have been such a wonderful time.
    Those utterly awful times certainly have made me grow as a person.
    I do wish miscarriages were talked about more as I found such comfort in speaking to other women who had been through the same.
    Amazing to share your story and so wonderfully written.
    I just know this is going to help some ladies out there struggling at the moment xxx

    1. Nicci I think you’re so brave for being able to handle having three miscarriages. The devastation is so awful I can’t imagine how you keep going. When I spoke to my GP (such a lovely man!) he was telling me all about his family situation and they have 4 children but in between them all at some time or another they experienced 7 miscarriages. 7! How they carried on I’ll never know. I’m not sure I’d have the strength.

      Thank you so much for you comment and good luck with everything in the future x

  19. I can feel the emotion through your words – its tough to read feeling so helpless. So many souls go through such huge experiences.. just because they don’t splash it all over Facebook, or seem happy in person, doesn’t mean they’re not crumbling inside. It’s particularly difficult to log on & see peoples everyday ‘battles’ and not throw your phone across the room hoping it hits some perspective into them.
    Even after events have happened, there are still anniversaries & ‘would be’ days. Grief is the most peculiar thing; it’s genuinely the most painful emotion you can ever feel, (give me physical pain over mental, anytime) yet you are terrified that it vanishes one day. It’s not that you want to feel horrendous forever, but to have the intensity lessen means life is continuing without that person who has gone, and that reality is truly the hardest thing to come to terms with. That, and to think of everything they are missing out on – THAT is crushing to the core.
    Being recently told I may not be able to have children, or that if I do it is a massive risk to my life, was an earth shattering moment I never thought would affect me to the degree that it did. It was devastating – a grief of sorts I suppose. On my way home from hospital, every person I saw on the street seemed to have a ‘baby on board’ badge, and I remember a grossly obese woman waddled past me in her grubby clothes, chugging on a cigarette, swearing at her 5 healthy children in tow to shut the **** up. The world is a very unfair place.
    I’ve been told more positive news since, so things look more hopeful now, but a pregnancy will be a challenge for my body so it is a scary leap into the unknown, but with it is hope, and through everything, hope (and humour) are your best friends.
    Look after yourself lovely and thank you for sharing. You are stronger than you think xx

    1. Penny your comment has bought tears to my eyes. You hit the nail on the head. I am so scared that one day I will forget.

      Wishing you so much luck on your journey and I hope things turn out for you… look after yourself too x

  20. How brave you are Bec to have gone through such an awful experience and now share it with people that you don’t know. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult and dark that everything felt for you and your family when you were going through this. Sitting here with tears in my eyes at such an heartbreaking yet inspiration story xxxxxxxx

  21. Oh Donks – I cried when I first read this post and then I cried again when I read it for a second time. This post is so beautifully written and gives me a small glimpse into what you must have been going through. I knew you were a strong mama but perhaps not how strong you were until reading this. I also feel a bit ashamed too because you were there constantly for me when I first had Hector when I was feeling horrendously overwhelmed and yet you were going through all this too at the same time – a testament to the amazing and wonderful person that you are! So proud and glad to call you my friend xxxxx

  22. I fall into the “can’t possibly imagine what you’re going through” camp having never been pregnant, but I just wanted to say how brave I think you are for writing this all down. Big love to you and your gorgeous little family xx

  23. Thank you so much for sharing your story honestly. It is so hard as its a subject so many people are afraid to talk about. I lost my baby a few weeks ago and I was 19 weeks, so still classed as a miscarriage and I have found it hard to talk about, no one knows what to say to me and I don’t know anyone who has been in my shoes.
    It doesn’t matter how far along you are, the minute you find out your pregnant then that is your baby and it hurts just as much to lose your baby at any stage. I have been told that the pain never goes, it just gets easier to cope with.
    This is the first time i have found a blog to be brave enough to post such a story, it makes others out there feel like they are not alone and it is ok to share your story. So well done for being brave, maybe it will pave the way for people to be more open about a subject that is so painful. Even though for me its only been a week or so I find I want to talk about it alot, I need to talk about my baby boy because otherwise I am scared i will forget, I’m however finding that whenever I talk about it people begin to cry and the subject is then changed.

    thank you xxx

    1. Hi Koren. I’m so sorry about the loss of your little boy. When it all first happened for me, I was petrified I would forget. One of the things that made me most anxious was the fear of forgetting about my baby. But as time has gone on I realise that I’ll never forget. He or she was a part of me and will never leave.

      I completely understand your need to talk about him. He was your baby. You love him and he’s a part of you. If you want to talk and you can’t find anyone to talk to you can always email me at and I’ll be more happy to listen. I found writing all this down really helped me. I wrote loads and obviously had to shorten for the post but the fact that I’d listed all the things I felt gave me such a release. It was finally out there rather than all crammed in my head. So maybe try that? Perhaps a diary of how you feel might help. Sending lots of love x

      1. Hi Koren,
        I’m so sorry you lost your little boy. I’m sure you have been given info but I found the online community my lifeline after my loss. Sands have a fab online forum, full of lovely supportive people in the same boat. Xxx

  24. What beautifully written, powerful words. I can’t even imagine, but awareness helps us all. Love to you and family X

  25. I didn’t know it but I REALLY needed to read this post today. The timing is so spooky. A year ago tomorrow myself and my husband conceived a baby we didn’t know we wanted. (We knew the date because it was the only “accident” we’d had and being Halloween it stuck in my mind). When we found out I was pregnant we were so excited, having a baby wasn’t part of the plan at that point in our lives but we were over the moon. We instantly started making plans, Christmas was coming and we booked a private scan a few days before so that we could surprise our families on Christmas Day. In hindsight planning it in so much detail was not a good idea but we were SO DAMN EXCITED! Then one day, a few weeks after doing the test, it occurred to me that I just didn’t feel pregnant anymore. A couple of days after that I started spotting and I went in for a scan. Just like you I knew what I was hoping to see but unlike you I knew in my gut that it wasn’t going to be there. They took bloods but the next day I started bleeding and it was confirmed that it was all over.

    I didn’t realise I was still sad until I read your post. Apart from the physical side your post could have been written by me, almost word for word but especially this part “I finally let myself grieve for what I’d lost, for all the hope I’d had, for all the beautiful moments that were to come but I knew now I’d never see.”

    I’m healing slowly. I have some wonderful friends who have been my confidantes and of course my lovely husband, even though he struggles sometimes to understand why I still get upset about coming on, I tell him “remember how excited we were” and then he gets it.

    One of the hardest things was telling people who had no idea I was pregnant so if I’m lucky enough to get pregnant again I think I will make a point of telling the people that I would want around me if things went wrong.

    I’m so sorry that you have been through this Becky but thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing this post. I can’t explain it but it was exactly what I needed to read.

    1. You have me crying again Chaz. Being so far away when you were going through this was bloody hard. I wish things were different for you both and I know you don’t feel it but you’ve been remarkably brave.

      You’re not alone. I love you lots xxxxxx

    2. Charlie you have made me cry. I’m so sorry for your loss but thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m glad you have had people around you to help get you through and I agree, If we’re lucky enough to have another one at some point I will definitely be telling more of my closer friends. I only told 2 last time but then realised that the girls I see so often were the ones it was hardest to try and explain to and I should’ve told them in the first place because I know they’d be 100% by my side come what may and they have been fantastic ever since.

      I’m so glad it has helped you today and thank you so much again for your comment. Good luck with everything xx

  26. Becky, what strength you must have to have dealt with this. Not just the actual miscarriage itself but the aftermath which also sounds completely tortuous. Honestly I think I would have gone stark raving mad. I’m so sorry for what you went through and I think you’re honestly amazing for dealing with it and writing it about it now.

    I’m so so with you on the need for women to open up. I have no idea who started the whole “don’t tell people until 12 weeks” but honestly I’d like to give them a kick up the bum – all it does is mean that women are totally isolated in their grief and suffering and that the rest of society has absolutely no idea what to say and how to deal with miscarriage because it’s so rarely talked about – though it happens all too often! I don’t mean that people should feel they have to tell people but it should be a woman’s choice.

    Thanks again for posting this xx

    1. Hi Kate. I just mentioned in response to Charlie that if I’m lucky enough to get pregnant again I will certainly tell more people. Not like a big Facebook announcement or anything but certainly my girls because I have needed them more than I realised. Thank you for your comment x

  27. My heart goes out to you Becky. Thank you for such a brave, honest and moving article. We haven’t started trying yet so I can’t imagine what you are going through but I hope it gets a bit easier with time xx

  28. Becky, thank you so much for sharing your story. I had a missed miscarriage in July 2014 and one of the things that I found so difficult was that no-one talks about this. I totally understand that feeling of breaking the news to the few people that do know, none of them knowing what to do or say. But what is there to say? Certainly the “at least you know you can get pregnant” line that I faced so frequently feels like a slap in the face because it’s THAT baby that you want, your baby, the one you have loved from the minute you see the positive pregnancy test, that you and your partner whisper about in bed at night while you fantasise about your future ahead. I hate the way that the whole thing is dealt with like an administrative burden and process with no compassion from hospitals or doctors.
    I was 12 weeks pregnant, my scan just a few days away when I started bleed at work (of all places). After making it home, I called 111 who advised me to go to my local A&E. After a few hours, I was finally allowed a scan and there they were. Our baby. 9 weeks old when its heart had stopped beating but we could see it with our eyes. I cried while looking at the screen as the doctor told me there was nothing that could be done and that my baby was gone. So off I was sent home and told to come back in 4 days time for another scan to confirm there was no heartbeat. 3 days later, I started to have intense cramping like nothing I have ever experienced before. At 11pm, again at the advice of 111 they called an ambulance for me. I was taken back into A&E and given gas and air to try to ease the pain. Little did I know my body had gone into a “mini labour” to rid itself of my baby. My parents arrived and stood at the door with stunned looks on my face as I writhed in pain and vomited everywhere. Then, finally it was over – the parting words from the doctor were to wait for my next period before starting again. Starting again? How could I possibly start again? I went back to the hospital two days later for a pointless scan; sat with other fully expecting women in the waiting room. As the scan confirmed what we already knew, I handed back over my booking forms and said to the receptionist “they told me to leave these here, I won’t be needing them”.
    It took me a long time to get over this, if I’m honest I’m still not. The feelings of grief and shame that I was clearly unable to do the one thing my body was designed to do. I had great support from my friends but that went away after a while. They couldn’t relate to what I was going through and there was certainly a sense of “get over it”. Eventually I went to see a counsellor which helped me learn to be kinder to myself.
    As I write this now I am 6 weeks pregnant again, after 11 months of trying, and going for a scan in 3 weeks time; hoping and praying for that heartbeat this time. But scared and worried of what I will do if there is not.
    Thank you for being brave and sharing your story and to others for sharing theirs also. xxx

    1. Ashley I’m so sorry to hear about your awful experience. I can recall sitting in the waiting room to confirm wether or not my pregnancy tissue had absorbed and there being other pregnant women in there. It was heartbreaking.

      Congratulations on your new pregnancy and I hope everything goes smoothly for you and that you are able to be kinder to yourself these days. It makes it so hard not having any explanation of why these things happen and so naturally the only person we can think to blame is ourselves.

      Lots of love and luck to you and your family x

  29. What a beautifully written story about something so heartbreaking, you are truly courageous. I suffered a very early miscarriage a couple of years ago at what must have been about 5 weeks, but I didn’t know I’d lost the baby until my 12 week scan. My GP had said a bleed in early pregnancy was fine, nothing to worry about. Got to my scan to find I wasn’t pregnant, not even a tiny bit. That bleed must’ve been my miscarriage and I never even knew I’d lost it. I had to do that horrible thing of telling my family I wasn’t pregnant anymore. Not helped by the fact my uncle asked ‘what’s baby?’ before I’d told anyone I’d lost it. He probably felt more awful than I did.

    I wonder if a part of me always knew as I didn’t seem to be as upset as I thought I should have been. Maybe I was just numb to it, who knows. Fast forward two weeks and I’m getting massive cramps, so panicking it’s my MC gone wrong a visit to A&E reveals I’m in fact 6 weeks pregnant! I’d fallen straight after that loss without even realising.

    I now have a beautiful almost 2 year old boy, who I wouldn’t change for the world. So, if I hadn’t have had that miscarriage I would never have met my gorgeous Isaac. The world works in mysterious and wonderful ways and I like to think that my MC was because the perfect egg and perfect sperm hadn’t met yet to create the perfect baby.

    Thank you so much for sharing your story and everyone else too. It does feel better to talk about it and remember our angel babies. They are never forgotten.
    Amy xx

    1. Amy what a lovely ending to your story. I’m really sorry you had the miscarriage and really happy that you now have Isaac 🙂

      The world works in mysterious ways. We just have to focus on moving forward I think and it sounds like you are doing that really successfully.

      Thanks so much for your comment x

  30. My heart broke again reading this. But thank you so much for sharing your story – I feel very strongly that this is something that should be spoken about more often. I too have experienced this shattering, life changing loss. We have been having fertility treatment for 3 years and I fell pregnant last summer for the first time; I miscarried at 6 weeks. It tools months and months for my body to recover but it did and I fell pregnant again this summer. We were so happy, as were our family and friends – surely nothing could go wrong this time… But it did. I had a missed miscarriage and found out at 10 weeks. I couldn’t believe that this could happen to us: again. I too had 2 failed medical managements and a failed surgical procedure. After finding out that my baby had died I carried it for another six and a half heartbreaking weeks. I loved my babies with all my heart as did my husband and we will never forget them, xx

    1. Michelle I’m so sorry. Once is awful enough but to experience it twice is unthinkable. I wish you all the best for the future and thank you for your comment x

  31. Aww Becky you’ve made me cry with your story :'( Everything you’ve said is so true and I can totally relate to it as I also had a miscarriage before having my little boy. I was 8 weeks along when we found out the baby had no heartbeat. It was the most painful and heartbreaking time of my life. I still think about my baby till this day and wonder if it was a boy or girl, what he/she would have looked like etc. He/she would have been a year old this month. I will always miss my baby. Love and hugs to you xxx

    1. Aima it’s so sad. There always seems to be a relate to date as well… I went on holiday and should’ve been 5 months pregnant, it should be 3 months old now etc. We will never forget and we will love them forever x

  32. Thank you Becky for sharing this so honestly and RMF for not glossing over the hard stuff of family life! I miscarried our first baby at 11 weeks and it changed everything forever. It has been nearly 18 months but honestly I think about that baby every day. I was so lucky to get pregnant with my rainbow baby boy, Jasper, just 8 weeks after the miscarriage but my pregnancy with him was so difficult, hope and joy being mixed with still fresh grief and the fear of going through it all again. (He is 6.5 months now and completely wonderful!) There’s so much secrecy and misunderstanding around baby loss and that just makes it all the harder to deal with when it happens to you, thank you for being a part of changing that! I hope you’ll get the joy of a healthy pregnancy and a beautiful rainbow baby before too long x

  33. Well done and thank you for opening up in such a brutally honest way. Look how many of us have been through this? I miscarried my first pregnancy at 10 weeks in 2013. I was at work, I went to the toilet with cramps and noticed spotting. I immediately had a sensation of losing ground, losing hope. I knew, just knew, my little baby was no longer wiggling happily around. I couldn’t get hold of my husband so my headteacher called me an ambulance and she accompanied me to the a&e where all sorts of tests were done. It all still looked OK, I was told this could be implantation spotting.

    A scan the next day proved that theory wrong. The baby wasn’t wiggling. It wasn’t moving. Moments stretched like eternity while the sonographer rolled the little probe around. And then she said the words – these exact words – that I’ll never ever forget.
    “Lianne I’m so sorry.”
    And then all those images in my head – learning to walk in the garden, opening Christmas presents, tasting first ice creams – exploded in front of me.

    Like you, I had opted to let my body complete naturally. It didn’t. 3 weeks of bleeding, pain, sobbing and scans revealed the tissue was still there. I was booked in for an ERPC (evacuation of retained products of conception – can only have been named by a man, right?) and had to have surgery to finish what my body failed to do. I SO understand the feeling of a failure you talk about – I can’t keep a baby alive but I can’t get rid of it either. Crippling.

    We need to talk about this more. We need to cry together about this more. We need to realise that conception and pregnancy is not easy or enjoyable or straightforward for many. And we will none of us, ever, forget our missed babies.

    1. Lianne, I feel like I have lived your words. Sending lots of love and hope for the future. I’ll have a little cry with you x

  34. What a brave story.
    I lost a baby a few years ago…. So similar to your story. I grieved but the only wordI could ever think of to describe it was ‘sad’. I don’t think I had ever felt true sadness until then. There was no anger, no blame, just sadness. I still think of my baby often and wonder. Hes like a little soul still within me. My other children were born and their souls left my body and grow. He stayed with me.
    I guess that’s just how it is. You can’t change anything. The sadness is still there but you just move on.
    My hospital has special days set aside each year for families who have lost children before they were born. Usually close to Christmas with a non-religious service and craft activities and a remembrance tree. I love that idea although have never felt the need to partake.
    Thanks for sharing something so personal.

  35. Having just gone through two cycles of IVF (both postponed half way through due to my overstimulation on the drugs) one failed frozen transfer, I’m now 13 weeks pregnant with our first baby.

    This whole 13 weeks I have lived in fear of a missed miscarriage, after my sister in law had one last year and my dear best friend has had 3 miscarriages and an ectopic. I see the pain on their faces, and know what it feels like to ache right in the bottom your heart. The fear is also unbearable and all consuming, the times I have said to my husband and mum ‘but what if we just can’t have children’ and I know that’s how they feel too.

    Miscarriages and infertility should be talked about more, I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve been asked ‘so do you think you will have children soon’ and It makes me so frustrated to think of all the poor couples who have been asked that having just had a miscarriage or failed treatment…

    If people were more open we would realise that it’s far more common than we think and that we are not alone.

    Your stories have made me cry and my heart is with you all x

  36. I have shed many tears reading your story and the stories of other readers. Such brave, strong, amazing women. My mum suffered an early miscarriage with her first baby and her second was born prematurely and he lived for just one day. She then went on to have three happy, healthy children. But my heart breaks just thinking about it. I just don’t know where she found the strength to carry on.

    I would love more than anything to try for a baby and I know my husband would make the most amazing dad. But I am so terrified as I know I would love my baby to the ends of the earth as soon as I knew they were growing inside me, and I don’t know how I would stand the heartache should anything go wrong.

    You are so brave to share your story and I am so glad that it has helped to write all your feelings down. I’m sure it will be a great help and comfort to many others too, knowing they are not alone. Much love xxx

    1. Hi Anna. You’re Mom sounds like a very brave lady and I’m so glad things worked out for her.

      The only thing you can do when it comes to starting your own family is be as positive as possible. Look after yourself and try to enjoy all the stages and hopefully everything will be straightforward for you xx

  37. Becky thank you for sharing your heartfelt account. So many things rang true for me, particularly the friends and family trying to offer reassurance that “at least I knew I could get pregnant and carry a baby”. Or even better “at least you didn’t end up having a still birth”. Those well meaning words were so infuriating. All the rationalism in the world can’t take away the loss you feel, especially in the raw early days.

    My first baby had Trisomy 13, an extra gene which made her incompatible with life. Had my baby managed to reach term and come into the world shewould not have survived more than a day or two. Babies with this condition are typically unable to breathe or feed without full-on medical assistance, and are often partially or fully brain dead. So for us (and our medical team) the only way forwards was to terminate the pregnancy we had dreamt of for so long. Whilst I had considered the risks of miscarriage during pregnancy, I had never considered the possibility of actively terminating one. Without a shadow of a doubt it was the right thing to do for our baby girl and us, but nevertheless it was and to a point is still a harrowing life event.

    My baby boy was born a year to the day we said goodbye to our daughter. The pregnancy was strained because of what we had been through, but we have come through it in one piece. My wee man is a little star who lights up our life. His middle name is Grey, named after his sister Grace so that she always has a defined place in our little family.

    On social media in particular the subject of a pregnancy gone wrong seems to be such a huge no no. And like another poster said, after a while friends who haven’t gone through a similar experience want to move on quickly or can err on the wrong side of flippant. So thank you Becky and Rock My Family for providing this platform to share our experiences. All the very best to everyone who has shared or is reading this and going through something similar. X

    1. Congratulations on the birth of Grey! What lovely news and I’m so terribly sorry for the loss of your first baby. What an awful time. I can’t imagine having to find the courage to go through all of that. Thanks so much for sharing your story and making me aware of Trisomy 13. x

  38. Well done Becky for speaking out!
    I had 3 miscarriages as a result of 5 IVF attempts ( including doner eggs) and one natural pregnancy (the most shattering out of the 3) and 9 years difficult years of trying for a birth child. I will never forget my lost little souls, I’m at peace.
    I have finally achieved my dream of becoming a Mum exactly a year ago when my husband and I adopted a 6 month old amazing, beautiful boy, he is the love of our lives!
    I have accepted I will never carry my own child or experience childbirth as normal women do. But I love him more than anything, after much soul searching I figured what was important was having a family not being pregnant something I thought I would never be able to say! Good luck to you.

    1. What amazing words Cari and I completely agree with you. Being a mother isn’t about your ability to carry a child, it’s about the love you have to give, the lessons you can teach and the happiness you can share. Congratulations on your little boy x

  39. Thank you for writing this. I suffered a missed miscarriage back in 2005, and all my family & friends questioned what a missed miscarriage was. To hear your words and experiences have really struck a chord with me. I’m very lucky to have gone on and had two amazing daughters since then, but the sadness and the loss still haunts me.

  40. Thank you for writing such a heartfelt and emotional post and putting into words what I could never say. So many times I have wanted to share my experiences of my missed miscarriages, my struggle to start a family, my numerous IVF attempts, my feelings of hate towards my ‘stupid body’ for not doing what it should do and the complete sadness and loneliness all of this makes me feel, yet I still keep these emotions and fears mostly to myself! Its reading posts and comments like this that makes me realise how many amazingly, strong woman have gone through all of this! And as I have just had it confirmed that I am 5 weeks pregnant after our 3rd IVF attempt and 2 missed miscarriages I am beyond petrified that I will ever see a little heartbeat! No one will EVER understand what it feels like to go through this, but the more we talk, and the more we connect, we realise that there are many more of us! As other readers have already said, thank you Becky and RMF for having the courage to allow us to share our experiences, where in a world of Facebook scans and never ending baby pictures, is so reassuring! Hugs and love to all of you xxx
    PS Despite not having my ‘family’ yet I love RMF and really, really hope that it will become more relevant to me in these coming weeks/months/years! In the meantime I can dream of decorating nurseries, throwing first birthdays and having to contemplate what to pack in my hospital bag! Keep up the great work xxx

    1. Oh Lindsay congratulations! You have obviously been through a very difficult time but massive congratulations on your pregnancy! What wonderful news. We have everything crossed for you. Thank you for sharing your story and we hope we can help you through motherhood xx

  41. Oh Becky, sending you virtual hugs. THIS completely talks to me. Following a year of trying to make a baby, we experienced 2 miscarriages in a 3 month period. Before finally having a pregnancy that stuck and resulting in our beautiful daughter.

    The loneliness I felt during this time was immense. Thankfully my best friend was an absolute angel when it came to empathy. Others tried but I heard that line ‘at least you can get pregnant’ way too many times. I appreciated the sentiment but it was really empathy that I needed.

    I’ll freely tell my miscarriage story, once I started sharing I found out that so many other women had been through the same thing. Just knowing that you are not alone helps. It really shouldn’t be such a taboo, so thanks for sharing Becky. X x

  42. Becky, I’m only getting a chance to read this post now, on a Sunday morning. Reason being, I saw the title and knew that I would need uninterrupted peace and a cup of tea to get through it as there would be tears. I was right.

    Thank you so very much for writing this, just looking through the comments shows that we need to be talking openly about miscarrying. Well done RMF and Becky for creating that space for women to share their stories. So much love xo

  43. Thanks Becky for your beautifully written post. I had a missed miscarriage in September last year. I didn’t even know that there was such a thing and only found out at my 12 week scan. I’m a worrier and had been dreading the scan and there aren’t good words to describe how it feels when your worst fears become reality. I had medical management but the tablets didn’t work so it was in for another scan and then an operation. The hardest part was the shame I felt in my body having let me down. Thank you so much for articulating what this feels like. Also hard to deal with well-meaning comments along the lines of ‘at least you know you can get pregnant’. Cold comfort really. There is always hope though (and I say that as a massive pessimist. I’m writing this now some 31 weeks pregnant and being kicked repeatedly. It’s been a good pregnancy so far but won’t pretend not filled with a mix of hope and fear because of last experience. Thanks too to others that have shared their stories here – it has been sad but heartening to read x

    1. Nicky we sound like we had pretty much identical situations.

      Congratulations on your pregnancy and I;m glad you’ve had a good pregnancy thus far. Lots of love and luck for the future x

  44. Hi, I felt like I should share my own experience – because after reading yours it has given me a sense of closure.
    I’m 29 now but when I was 20 I fell pregnant (totally unexpected obviously as I was taking precautions and didn’t want to be pregnant at a young age).
    So, I had all the obvious signs of being pregnant very early on – even before taking a test, I just knew! so having the test confirmed it…plus I did 2 more.
    Unsure of my options, I went to the planning planning clinic and had to take another test to confirm I was pregnant and then booked a scan and then I would assume discuss what I wanted to do – My relationship at the time was pretty unhealthy.
    So, I went to the scan and (bare with me it’s a blur) I was told that they couldn’t see anything so she went to get a doctor. The doctor came back and they asked me all the obvious questions… have you had any bleeds? any pain? any discharge? any discomfort? did you take a TEST! (that one still annoys me).
    So, they actually made me take ANOTHER test, with no real explanation.
    So, it came back positive, I jumped back on the bed and again they confirmed that nothing was there. The whole episode wasn’t explained clearly to me (if at all), I was made to feel a bit embarrassed about it all to be honest. I asked to see the screen (of nothing) but they wouldn’t allow me. So the jist of it was there was ’tissue’ left or sack was left but no baby …or the fetus had died and that was that.
    As soon as I hopped off the bed I was shown a bunch of forms to sign.
    Still in a state of confusion and shock. My partner at the time was in no way supportive.
    I was told that the medical procedure was the same as an abortion (where you insert the pills) and that normally it’s carried out in hospital but they were doing a ‘trial’ where patients could do it at home alone. That option was pushed on me quite a bit (I knew my family were away on holiday so I could sort of get away with it and pretend it never happened). So I had a pill to take there and then and was given a booklet and some more pills to take later on.
    I was alone when took those pills at home first thing in the morning and by late afternoon I genuinely thought I would die.
    I was hemorrhaging a lot. I had to crawl back and forth to my bathroom to sit in the shower because the blood was just pouring from me. I had to crawl as I would pass out, I passed out about 3 times. I rang my boyfriend for help, he said he was out. I rang a couple close friends, they were out. I didn’t want an ambulance because nosey neighbors would tell my parents and I was ashamed. I couldn’t drive because I couldn’t even walk. So I rang the help line number for advice and was told to drive there, I said I couldn’t so she said wait till the morning. I felt horrendous. it was horrendous…It was the worst experience of my life. I’m still surprised even now that I made it through the night…… Three weeks later, of feeling still unwell I was out shopping with friends and had still had light periods (so to speak) and felt more blood so ran off to the nearest toilet and that’s when everything finally ‘happened’, it all finally came out. It was horrendous.
    I know this story may not be of any relevance, but I felt I should finally tell someone about my “nothing there” baby. 🙂 Thanks for sharing yours.

    1. Cat, your story has left me in tears. The experience is bad enough as it is without having to deal with it at such a young age and without any support whatsoever. I hope it’s helped for you to finally share what happened to you. Your story is the most relevant. It talks of isolation, of loneliness, of pure heartache. I hope you can find some comfort in now knowing that you weren’t alone at the time and you certainly aren’t alone now. x

  45. Becky thank you so much for your post, it must have been really hard emotionally raking up that journey, in turn I’m grateful it took me back to my own experience, that I have desperately shut away for rainy days, or those little reminder moments that take your breath away like a gust of wind out of nowhere some days.
    I think it’s so important that families are comforted enough to be open and honest about this, and no matter what stage of the pregnancy, how many weeks, they feel justified enough to grieve as they need to. I’ve heard some silly things in the past that probably come from a good place to make you feel better, but often feel like a dismissal, ‘only a few weeks’ or ‘chemical pregnancy’ etc. It doesn’t matter about those terms, it’s a tiny soul that once was and a million hopes and dreams, like you so eloquently put. Thanks again for a lovely piece. x

  46. I have been trying to find words to comment since this was posted. Thank you for your bravery and honesty, and thank you for giving the right words to say when this sadness comes to those we love. All those who have loved and lost precious babies you are brave beyond words xx

    1. What lovely words Lucy. I only hope it’s helped in some way and things can be easier for everyone involved when these terribly sad times occur x

      1. Little did I know when I wrote this that I would be having what seems to be a miscarriage at six weeks pregnant only a few months later. I remembered this post and rereading it has really helped on this long sad night. Thanks again Becky.

  47. Since having a missed miscarriage at 10 weeks last year I have read many articles and blogs on the subject. For me, it was, and still is, a comfort that I wasn’t the only one. I know that is ridiculous when you know the statistics for miscarriage but when friends and people around you are having babies (seemingly constantly and without any issue) and you lose a baby, it feels like you failed, like you are the only one who couldn’t carry a baby – well for me it did. I did feel alone and I did feel like a failure. Miscarriage isn’t talked about much, it does feel a bit like a taboo, which makes it harder to deal with I think. But credit to you for writing this lovely piece as, for me, it is when articles are written and stories shared that I don’t feel quite so lonely about the whole thing.

    1. Ros, you aren’t alone but I understand that feeling so well and I hope that by reading my story you feel like you’ve got somewhere to go when you feel lonely. Thank you for commenting x

  48. Becky your first few paragraphs could be me writing. I had a silent miscarriage, as my hospital called it, this past summer. I was 11 weeks and getting so excited for the first scan, when I found I was bleeding. I was sitting on the loo unable to speak for sobbing, with my two girls 6 and 18 months walking in and out of the bathroom in a panic and calling for daddy! Scans eventually revealed that the baby had died at 6 weeks. I was completely disbelieving because I had still felt pregnant and very sick the whole time. It took a few more weeks for my body to sort things out, which luckily didnt require intervention, but that time was awful – I didnt know how anyone could bear still carrying your baby inside you but knowing it’s dead.

    The difference with me was I DIDN’T want to talk about it. We actually had told a lot of people already because it was the summer holidays, we’d been staying with loads of different close and extended family, and I didn’t want to have to pretend not to feel sick! It didn’t seem a big deal to tell early, because although 13 years ago we were told we couldn’t have children, and both our girls are little miracles who took ages to conceive, there had never appeared to be any abnormal risk to the actual pregnancies.

    Figuring out how to somehow un-tell everybody was incredibly awkward. And I didn’t want to have the conversations it led to. My parents and parents-in-law particularly kept asking about all the physical side of it, which still makes me want to scream.

    If I get pregnant again I know I will be terrified every moment until the baby is in my arms. We know a third child will be the end of our very long journey to create our family, and when I found I was pregnant quite quickly this time I felt like I had finally got there. Now I realise that he or she was still totally independent of me, there was nothing I could do to keep him safe.

    1. Thank you for sharing your story Naomi. Such incredibly difficult times and I hope you are ok and coping. We wish you all the luck in the world for the future and the expansion of your family x

  49. Thank you for sharing your story and thank you to all the other women you’ve encouraged to share stories too. Their comments show we do need to talk more. I also had a MMC at 11 weeks and seeing an empty screen when you expect something so totally different is so hard to explain to the “these things happen” and “its natures way” people. I totally resonate with that feeling of being betrayed and completely failed by your body too. Before now, I’ve always thought I was pretty in tune with myself. Even as I sit here 22 weeks pregnant again, there’s a tiny bit of doubt over every symptom and every feeling. I’m trying hard to “let go” but its a struggle to forgive my body for letting me down the first time. I also feel stupidly naive for just blindly going into my first pregnancy with no question of it ever not working out. But we have a baby on the way now, so there’s always hope. Big hugs to you and to all the other women who have or will go through this. You’re stronger than you know. Xxx

  50. Becky I read your post a few weeks ago – having moved from rock my wedding after getting married last year to rock my style, then oh joy to rock my family when you launched and I was pregnant! I dared to dream of being a mama, baby names, nursery furniture and navigating through 2016 with dates already in place for weddings afar and holidays – and my due date July 12th! And then last friday at 8 weeks pregnant and at a very glitzy ‘do’ in London wearing a full length sequined gown I discovered that I had began to bleed to quite badly. I thought my tummy was knotted because i was feeling nervous because i was hiding my pregnancy as it was still fairly early days, pretending to drink (the ol’ G&T trick that is really lemonade with a slice of lime) to avoid questions. Then I realised that my tummy wasn’t knotted and I was actually in pain. It got worse and continued through the night and all over the weekend. I passed so much blood and pregancy tissue which was so shocking. Somehow I remained calm but I knew what was happening… though i kept thinking, maybe I’ll be ok, maybe our baby will be ok… I contacted my midwife but she wasn’t working… not that there was anything she could have done. On monday morning, worn out from crying, I was up early to go to my GP when I spoke to my midwife. She’d booked me an emergency scan at the hospital first thing on Tuesday, the earliest available slot. We’d actually booked to have a private scan on this day – we were going to be able to hear our baby’s heart beat! My 1st official scan was booked for NYE and we couldn’t wait that long – and over christmas too, this was too exciting! Anyway, on tuesday morning I passed a huge amount of pregancy tissue… which without being too graphic left me with no doubt in my mind what i was going to see – or not – on the screen at the hospital.

    The nurses were really nice but said that my uterus was empty… my lining was returning to normal… there was no evidence of tissue left in me and my body had been very efficient in doing what it had to do. To ‘complete’ the miscarriage (WTF?) I have to do a pregnacy test in a week to confirm that my hormone levels have returned to normal.

    Whilst that all sounds very matter of fact and my body was doing a good job now – what the hell happened when i needed it to grow our baby?! And whilst a test at the end of the week will ‘complete’ my miscarriage what about the bleeding that I have now, the soreness in my tummy, or the constant reminder everytime i go to the loo, even walking around wearing a sanitary towel which I’m certain everyone can see and hear! How can I go to work and sit in the office like this? Or suffer the indignity of changing in the ladies – not knowing if i may have an accident or may need to change. So i’m at home – but then having to explain to work colleagues that I have a virus when they call or email…

    Even the terminology that I have to say to people who knew is so awful – I’ve had a miscarriage, I’ve lost our baby – It’s like I did this to us. And so I wonder, did i work out to much? I am a fitness fiend. Did i not eat right? But I am superfood central, so it can’t be that. Did i not rest enough? I can’t sit still for too long… Maybe it’s my age, nearly 38 so not a spring chicken but certainly fit and healthy as far as I know. So what happened?

    And you know what? I felt so mug for a few weeks too. Look at me living the dream – pretty much a year after we got married we’re starting a family, good job, nice house, everything falling into place! Happy days! I even bought some investment clothes to take me though winter with my bump! I do love to plan. Well, it turns out i didn’t, and couldn’t I suppose, plan for this. Never has the adage ‘don’t count your chickens…’ rang truer.

    I feel sad for losing our baby and for losing the plans we’d made. And I want to allow myself feel sad for a bit… usually I just want to get on with things, ‘get back to normal’, just because if you get too down it’s harder to get out of it I think.

    In my head i do know there was nothing I or anyone else could have done to stop what has happened – is still happening to me. And I know i’m not alone, that this has happened to others – just on this blog alone. Sorry that this post has been ranty… it’s just tough… and I’m scared for the next time we try… but hopefully I’ll get to be a mama in 2016 x

    1. Hi Sarah. Thank you so much for sharing your story with us and my biggest hugs go out to you for what you are going through at the moment. It’s is the most heartbreaking thing and all you need to know is that it was nothing you did. I was exactly the same as you. 8 weeks and feeling quite excited when I started bleeding at work. The worst feeling ever knowing what was happening and I too always wondered if it was because I’d done some vigorous boxercise the night before! Silly really as it obviously wasn’t but you kind of need to think that there is a reason. There wasn’t and it took me a long time to get my head around that. Four years later I have 2 beautiful little girls but I know how hard the time until they arrived was and it always amazes me how many people go through this. At a wedding the other week I was sat with 3 of my close friends. All 4 of us had had early miscarriages. 2 like you where we just started bleeding and 2 like Becky where it was a missed miscarriage that required lots of follow up medical appointments. All just as awful for each of us. Just know you aren’t alone and as much as it hurts now those hopes and dreams still exist so keep focussing on them. Things will get better and let’s hope 2016 is full of love and happiness for you. I’m sending you all my love. Lottie x

    2. Hi Sarah, I wasn’t going to comment on this post until I read your comment at the end. It felt like I was reading my story – I was due July 13th & my bleeding started on Friday too. I still don’t think I’ve really computed it but I just wanted to say that I feel your pain. Sending much love xxxx

    3. Hi Sarah, I hope you will get to read my reply to your very honest and very much appreciated comment. I hope you have had some time to heel. I hope you were able to take some comfort from all the other wonderful and brave women who shared their stories on here. You are very much in company. Sadly. Like you say, at that stage, there is nothing you could’ve done. We are advised to continue exercise throughout pregnancy and we do the best we can to take care of ourselves. I really hope 2016 is a positive year for you. We’d love to know how you get on and I wish you the best of luck with everything. Thanks so much for sharing your story with us xxx

  51. I just found this post, I wish I’d never had to search for ‘miscarriage’ before, but I lost my baby this week. I’d had a 10 week scan, all was perfect, and then in week 12 I started to spot. I went to the nearest hospital (not our usual one) and got sent from pillar to post to get a referral to get a scan to finally be told “I’m so sorry, your baby has died”. He or she died shortly after our first scan. We went back to our local hospital on Monday, and then on Wednesday went back for more scans, before being admitted for surgery that day. It doesn’t seem real. This time last week I was happily reading this page and thinking of baby names for our much wished for second child, now they are gone. Ironically on the day we had our 13 week scan booked, and were so looking forward to sharing our news, I was being taken into surgery. Right now I just feel like a total failure, like I let my baby down, like it’s my fault.

  52. Becky, thank you for sharing your story. Its resonates so strongly with my experience. Its day 3 for me. A rollercoaster that I pray never to experience again. Day 1 was the dating scan. They found an empty sac where our baby should have been. Ushered to see the consultant who stared into my soul when she looked at me and saw how distraught I was. What the heck was a missed miscarriage? My body had failed me, still growing with full breasts. How could they have died and I have not known? I took the medical route as I wanted to experience the passing of my child physically, I didn’t want to be numbed, under anaesthetic. And the next day I entered the women’s health unit with its wonderful, compassionate staff. And it began. But it took time for us to part, 7 hours until I started to bleed and I sit here 2 days later still feeling the physical shifts in my body. Psychologically, I feel in pieces. I cannot bear to switch on my phone. I don’t want to see people. I need time. Time to understand, to grieve. Our whole world has turned upside down. At 42 and being peri-menopausal, this baby was a gift, our little miracle and could be my last chance. Thank you for the opportunity to share.

  53. Thank you for sharing your story. I suffered a missed miscarriage in August 2016. I haven’t told many people at all. The only way to explain my story is by this, something I wrote after it all happened –
    No-one tells you what it will feel like to know something isn’t right.
    No-one tells you what it will feel like when to hear the words “I don’t hear a heartbeat”.
    No-one warns you what it will feel like when, while alive and breathing, your heart feels like its ripped in two.
    No-one tells you how many tears will fall.
    No-one prepares you for how to tell a man who was to be a father, and parents who were to be grandparents, that those titles will no longer be given to them.
    No-one prepares you for how it feels to have your body betray and trick you into thinking your baby was growing by having all the symptoms, but no correlating heartbeat.
    No-one tells you how you will wake up believing there is a life growing inside of you only to fall asleep contemplating the options on how to remove the foetus from your body.
    No-one tells you how you will blame yourself, and hate yourself, for what you believe is your fault.
    No-one tells you how numbing it is to read the words “Retained product of conception”.
    No-one tells you what it’s like to get a letter in the mail confirming your first 12 weeks’ scan that you then have to call and cancel.
    No-one tells you that you will feel rude interrupting the mid-wife who calls to congratulate you, that there is no need to continue the conversation.
    No-one prepares you for the fact that each time you tell a person, it will feel like your stomach is blocking your breathing.
    No-one tells you how confusing it will be to be happy for your friends whose baby’s heart remains beating while also being devastated that yours isn’t.
    No-one tells you how you will long for the nausea, the heartburn, the exhaustion.
    No-one tells you how choosing a pregnancy test to confirm the process is physically over, will feel impossible.
    No-one tells you how absurd it feels to see repeated positive pregnancy tests knowing your hormones are lying.
    No-one can explain why your baby stopped growing but pieces remain clinging to you.
    No-one tells you that your baby’s heart stops so quickly yet it takes so long to leave the safety of your womb.
    No-one tells you. No-one speaks. Until all your own hopes come land sliding down, and you become the statistic.

    I am happy to say that with the loving support of my husband I am now in a very happy place once again. I found my peace again but I too, will never forget my little one who wasn’t ready for the world.

  54. I had a tubal pregnancy on December 13, 2015 is when they did my surgery and removed my right tube and ovary. Then two months later in February me and my fiancé found out I was pregnant with our daughter. Who is a rainbow baby and who is know 11 months as of September 22, 2017. And I found out I was pregnant again on my birthday well the next day after our daughter turned 11 months I misscaried but this time it wasn’t a tubal it was just a misscarage. But we want so badly to have another baby. But right know yes its hard to have lost a baby but god needed another angel in heaven. Know our third baby is in heaven with its brother or sister.

  55. Miscarriage is very difficult to express. Thanks for sharing your story. Emotional impact takes longer to heal. But miscarriage is not the end. You can conceive after a miscarriage. So have faith and do not lose hope.

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