Content warning: This post deals with themes around missed miscarriage and may be triggering for some readers.
My husband and I arrived at the hospital day procedure centre early in the morning.
There weren’t many words to be said between us, it was a mutual silence, a mutual time of mourning for the baby we had lost but was still inside me.
Today was the day that it would finally leave the body that was meant to have carried it for another seven months, the one that had failed.
Around me were many other people, men and women, old and young, arriving at the hospital for mostly minor procedures that would see them in and out in the same day. Technically mine was the same, I would be put under a general anaesthetic, operated on, ‘recover’ and return home in just hours.
For me though, this day felt much longer because unlike many of those around me. I was here to have a part of me removed that I had wanted to stay with me. A part of me that I wanted to grow, that was there because I had wanted it to be and that I was completely devastated about the prospect of losing.
Tina Arena speaks to Mia Freedman about her miscarriage. Post continues after video.