My miscarriage agony and why I want to talk about it
It’s National Infertility Awareness Week and I felt it important to write about my own experience. If you’re a regular reader of my column, you’ll know that we struggled to conceive our daughter, Harley. We had IVF in the end after two-anda-half years of trying and we’re grateful everyday for her… we know only too well that not everyone is as lucky.
You might have also wondered if we would have another baby at some point as I’ve spoken about wanting to give Harley a sibling. The answer is, yes we do.
However, despite my assumption that it wouldn’t be as hard the second time around, we have unfortunately struggled massively to give her a brother or sister.
We’ve been trying for more than a year now and have had three separate
IVF transfers using five embryos and unfortunately we are no closer to having our second child.
And sadly, a few weeks ago, at eight weeks pregnant I miscarried.
It felt like our whole world collapsed. The joy of seeing a positive test result on the home pregnancy kit was replaced with absolute angst and anxiety as our early scan revealed the embryo hadn’t grown as much as it should.
However, a week later, about six weeks into the pregnancy, we saw a beacon of hope on the screen, a beautiful heartbeat. I can’t tell you the relief I felt. Pure joy.
I t didn’t last long. Less than a week later at a follow-up scan (they scan you more with IVF) the heartbeat had stopped and later that evening I miscarried.
Miscarrying at eight weeks is awful for every reason you can imagine but knowing the heartbeat was there and seeing for myself that it had stopped is a pain that I will never forget and my heart aches for the poor families out there who have gone through something similar.
Why am I telling you this? It’s vital we have conversations like this. It's not unacceptable to talk about this in public. We must talk about it. I’m not ashamed, not one bit. I’m sad to my core, but if just one other person reading this who has gone through something similar feels they are not alone, it will have been worthwhile.
I promise you, my friend, you’re not. I see you.