It was the summer of 2014 when I unknowingly fell pregnant. It was the year of my 19th birthday and I was as happy as ever.
My boyfriend and I had been together for around 3-4 months and things were going strong. He had his own business and I was working in my dream job. Nothing could rain on my parade.
But in early January of 2015, my world changed forever. I was admitted to hospital for a possible ectopic pregnancy as I had severe abdominal pain.
After two days in hospital, everything was said to be okay. I had a normal little human being growing inside me that was exactly four weeks and six days baking.
What do you say to someone who’s lost a baby?
My partner was at the time very supportive (and still is today) even though he has absolutely no idea how to comfort me even on my darkest nights.
Our relationship was so young and we were so young. I had to fight every slithering instinct as a maternal woman and give up my child I hadn’t planned or met. My heart was torn.
In the weeks leading up to my own personal doomsday, I noticed bulging pregnant bellies everywhere I looked. I noticed mothers with new born babies and mothers with children, laughing and loving the life they were granted. My heart ached everywhere I looked.
I would never meet my unborn child nor would I know what it would feel like to hold him or her in my arms. My partner was not ready to be a parent and I suppose neither was I. I never wanted to admit that I couldn’t be a mother; I could never bring myself to saying those words. I had no support group around me, I wasn’t able to confide in any friends or family about what I was going through. I was all alone.
I felt I only had one option and that was to drive the three and a half hours to my nearest city to undergo the horrendous procedure that would leave my womb empty and my heart broken. I cried the whole way over and the whole way back. Not to mention the days and nights for up to two years of feeling alone.