A miscarriage is possibly the most emotionally complicated and fraught experience a woman can endure. An exciting planned future becomes a nightmare and the suffering, I assume, lasts a lifetime.
My husband and I met when we were both 16 years old. From such a young age we were in love and knew exactly how we wanted our lives to eventuate; this year we will be marking 11 wonderful years together. Our love has been described by many as a fairy tale, with each day lived in love. Like many I am extremely maternal and have always dreamt about becoming a mum. I am lucky enough to work with children everyday as a preschool teacher and my love for them is immeasurable.
So why did we decide to keep this a secret from our family and friends? I guess we felt the need to protect those around us. To share only happy news and not our heartache. One secret unfortunately became two secrets and with an imminent third, enough was enough.
Our journey began in June 2015. My husband and I found out, through tears of joy, that we were expecting our first baby. Our first scan showed everything but a heartbeat and because I had just come off the pill we were unsure how far along I was. It was decided that perhaps everything was a bit too early to tell but a second scan confirmed the worst. Our OB/GYN gave us three options for management and we decided to wait and pass naturally.
Unfortunately my body continued to think I was pregnant and at the 10-11 week mark I began to miscarry in the most horrific of circumstances. I was rushed to emergency and after a long few hours it was decided that I needed a D&C.
In December 2015 we found out we were pregnant again. Unfortunately this glimmer of hope was dampened with more bad news. This time we decided to book in for a D&C straight away as we were still suffering the emotional trauma of our last experience.