One year ago today we found out that you were no more. It’s been on my mind a lot this week. I tried to not let it spoil our anniversary celebrations yesterday, but I’m finding it difficult to stay positive when all I can think about is the scan and hearing the words “I’m so sorry…”
We had to sit next to EPU in the antenatal triage unit when I was being monitored for preeclampsia on Monday morning. Of all the places I didn’t want to be near this week, that was the one. I kept my face turned away from the waiting room, trying to block out the sadness attempting to creep into my heart. Stroking the bump of the baby we have been so lucky to conceive when we felt ready to try again after losing you, whilst exchanging cheeky grins with the little boy who would have been your big brother.
You would be here now. You would be 6 months old. Would you be rolling yet? Or babbling? Or even crawling? Would you have brown hair and brown eyes like me? Or blonde hair and blue eyes like everyone else? Would you be a girl, as I suspected you were?
I find myself thinking about you frequently, especially as I get closer to bringing your rainbow sister into the world.
I often wonder whether my body needed those 12 weeks of pregnancy with you to prepare for pregnancy with your sister. My endometriosis had come back quite severely when I fell pregnant with you, so perhaps it was my body’s way of resetting everything? After all, that’s what hormone treatment for endometriosis is supposed to do. In someways it’s easier to deal with the pain of losing you when I think about it like that. Although that comes with its own guilt.
The next few days are going to be difficult, with memories of the first scan, the intense bleeding and the moment you left my body. Peering down into the toilet bowl, wondering what on earth I should do. There was so much blood. It seemed to go on forever.
We start hypnobirthing top up sessions this evening to prepare for your sister’s arrival, so I’m hoping that today will also have its positive moments as well.
I just wish that we hadn’t lost you. That we were in an alternate universe where I was mock-grumpy because you’d covered the floor in food again after another messy weaning session…
We will always miss you and wonder who you would have been. Always.
I hear you
On the 9th October it will be 10 years since our little person would’ve/could’ve been with us. 10 whole years! I can’t even imagine having a 10 year old but I do always wonder at this time of year who would’ve been my first born. Big hugs to you, it’s never easy x
Oh lovely, such a poignant post. I love my two so much but I always will miss my four. And i’ll always wonder who they could have been. Hugs Lucy xxxx
Oh gosh Hannah. This made me so sad!
I’m so lucky to have never experienced a miscarriage but I can completely empathise with how it could be. So heartbreaking. I think it’s always going to be one of those things that never go away, big hugs and hope so much goes right for you xxx
It’s been a year last week since I had my second miscarriage. I lost him at home ( i prefer to think I had two boys who weren’t strong enough to make it & im now expecting again and it’ll be a girl ). And I remember the moment my body let go. The first miscarriage 3 months prior involved a lot of bleeding and hospital intervention but this was slower and calmer but I had known deep down it wouldn’t work out, I just knew my body. I read your post with tears rolling down my face and sobbing at the end; maybe I needed this for silent therapy and recovery who knows. I pray my rainbow baby makes it. Nothing ever replaces the loss but I’m told it gets easier with time. ❤️ And I hope tbr same for others too.