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  1. #1
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    Default Miscarriage Stories Share - TMI warning

    There may be another thread for this but a couple of weeks ago when I was kind of looking for "miscarriage stories", I found them a bit scarce so I thought I'd start a thread to share which may help others going through this. I thought I'd start with my last couple of weeks.

    I noticed I was spotting one Saturday evening. It's uncommon for me (only happened in one other preg which turned out fine) but I had been very stressed and busy so I thought it was a reminder to slow down. The spotting was kind of brownish mucus.

    I rested off and on during Sunday, then saw the Doc on Monday. I thought I'd get him to check the heartbeat and if I was reassured about that, I'd go to bed and rest properly.

    He couldn't find a heartbeat on his little U/S machine and prepared me for the worst. He pointed out that in 99% of cases, he would get a heartbwat at 12 weeks if I was sure of my dates, which I was. I was devastated. He told me that he couldn't be 100% without referring me to a proper U/S which, as our town is small, would be Wednesday. Otherwise I could have travelled an hour away for one.

    I felt that the wait didn't make much difference. I prepared myself for the worst. DH was excellent, as was my SIL who had come to the Doc with me and I told my Mum, too. I didn't want to go out as we know everyone in our community and, as the preg was just becoming public knowledge, kind people were continually coming up to congratulate us.

    The hardest bit was in the waiting room before the U/S on Wed. I didn't know whether to hope for a miracle or prepare myself for confirmation of my fears. The lady used both the normal and vaginal U/Ss to be sure but to no avail. Her diagnosis was that the baby looked to be 9-10 weeks old, 2 weeks younger than I knew my dates to be.

    I asked to see the baby on the screen and then whether I could take a photo with my phone. She wouldn't let me but offered to send the screenshot as a photo (to the Doc, I assumed). She assured me that she'd email the results straight to the Doc.

    I rang Doc later. He offered to book me into surgery that Friday. I felt that was too soon - I was still bleeding and hoped I would miscarriage naturally.

    I found that I could now tell people that we had lost the baby when people commented on the pregnancy, though it was strange when the actual miscarriage was still in progress. Some ladies who had had miscarriages where very helpful with advice about what they had done.

    By the following Tuesday, I realised that this was unlikely to happen naturally in the near future and I was starting to require closure. I saw Doc on Wed and he referred me to a larger hospital (as a Grand Multi Para) where I met the Obgyn on Thursday afternoon and came back for a D&C (dilation, suction and curette) on the Friday. At my consultation, I discussed whether it would be possible to take the baby for burial. She pointed out, very gently and diplomatically, that the baby would not be whole after the procedure and I agreed that it would probably be best not to worry.

    At the hospital, after fasting all morning, I had a Cervigen pessiary inserted to ripen my cervix before the process. It needed a couple of hours min to work and I had brought my laptop and got heaps of work done!

    I was dressed in a hospital gown and was wheeled down to theatre. I felt really nervous and a bit teary while I waited outside the actual theatre. I tried to treasure the last moments I had little Indiana still inside me but fiund it difficult to concentrate as I was so worried.

    The anesthetist came out to see me and put a canular in my arm. He was really lively and chatty. He left me and came back a little later. He put a vial on the canular and said that it was just something to relax me before I went into theatre.

    I woke up later in the recovery ward! I didn't even remember feeling sleepy! I didn't fell sore, just a bit sleepy still, which wore off later. They checked my obs every half hour three times then I was right to go. The second set of obs had my blood pressure low but I had plenty more to eat and drink and they improved the next time.

    The Obgyn visited and brought with her the remains of the baby in a container. I was so grateful. I could actually have something to bury.

    I had brought my daughter to drive me home (on her Ls but they overlooked that) and I felt absolutely fine, emotionally and everything. It was like a weight off me. It was a pity we had a flat tyre on the way home, but thats another story ...

    I felt able to put a message on Facebook with the U/S photo of Indiana. It just said thank you for the support we'd received after losing our baby at 9 weeks gestation. I thought that it might be the easiest way of spreading the word so that well meaning friends and rellies dont fell they've put their foot in it by asking how bub's going etc.

    I contacted our local Priest, a friend of ours, and he will come to our house for a short ceremony tomorrow. It will just be us and Mum and Dad (DHs parents are both deceased). One of my elder daughters has made a cardboard box for the baby's remains and the younger children have written messages on it and helped decorate it.

    This morning I bought a tree from the local nursery which will bloom around the baby's due date and which is named Indian Summer (similar to the baby's name, Indiana) which we will plant over the grave.

    Afterwards, we'll have arvo tea inside and some of H's birthday cake (he was 2 today).

    I feel like I've done everything I can for our little one. I also found it a good way to lead into a discussion about death with my younger children. My elder kids are trickier. The eldest at 17 is grossed out by the baby in the fridge. The third at 15 finds the whole conversation about the baby upsetting.

    I know there may be TMI here but hope this may be of assistance to others going through this.

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  3. #2
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    I'm happy to share ny story if it will help others but will have to come back to write.

    Sent from my HTC Desire X using The Bub Hub mobile app

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  5. #3
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    Will be back to write mine.

    OP, I am so sorry for your loss.

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    mrsd  (21-07-2013)

  7. #4
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    Here goes...our loss takes us back almost 2years to 2010.

    I had a dating at 7.5wks (roughly) and everything was spot on. Beautiful little 'blob' measuring spot on for dates and a very strong reassuring hb.

    Morning sickness hit me about 6wks and was horrid. My gp had joked about the possibility of twins as my hcg was quite high & probably didn't help the constant nausea & vomiting.

    12wks arrived and dh & I let ourselves get excited - this was the "safe" right? M/S was still with me so everything felt good.

    On 21 September (12w1d) we went for our nt scan, excited to see a fully formed baby, not just a little speck. Instead our world crashed as we looked at the screen and saw nothing. I knew what that hb looked like from our dating scan, there was no flicker whatsoever. Bubs was only measuring 8w2d (i think) so had passed probably up to 4wks prior with absolutely no signs or symptoms to me.

    I think this made it harder for me to deal with. If there was something wrong, I do now wish that I had of just m/c naturally at the time. As devastating as that would have still been, I would not have had to carry along in a quiet ecstasy for 4wks thinking of names & looking at baby things.

    the next 24hrs after finding out was a blur as we waited for head sonographer to rescan, appt with my gp, appt with ob at local hospital for advice on next steps. Since it was estimated that bub had passed 4wks earlier, they weren't keen on leaving me much longer due to infection. I wanted it over with anyway, I was still suffering from m/s so just needed closure. I was sent home with the pessiary (sp) to insert before bed in preparation for a d&c the next morning

    I woke to awful, awful cramps in the morning. The pessiary had worked more than expected and I ended up birthing our tiny bub at home. It was the most excruciating pain I had endured to that point but I'm glad I did in the end. I still went to the hospital and they did the d&c to ensure all was clear. I cried my eyes out in pre-op, I was later thankful to have such lovely staff looking after me who held my hand until I went under and reassured me that nothing was my fault. I had a tough time coming out of the anaesthesia, I had lost a lot of blood and my bp was in the dumps. 12hrs after being admitted I was finally discharged.

    Nobody knew we were even pregnant, not even our parents. I wouldn't change this fact as I needed my own space afterwards rather than having people ask how things were. Our parents were the first to know & we told friends as we felt comfortable.

    Needless to say, 9mths later when we finally got another bfp, we were petrified of the same thing. I couldn't connect with the idea of a baby until well after 20wks when we finally shared our happy news with everyone. Thankfully the story there had a happy ending and I now have a beautiful 16mth currently using me as a jungle gym

    I have a ring with diamonds (would have been the birthstone) for our angel baby 'bailey' which I also had engraved.

    Wow, sorry for the long essay! I never wrote down what we went through so hope you made it through

    Sent from my HTC Desire X using The Bub Hub mobile app
    Last edited by michellek; 25-07-2013 at 12:59.

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  9. #5
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    My first m/c was in January 2000, I remember it so clearly.

    I was so excited to be pregnant, my father had passed away a couple of months beforehand and I thought it was a gift from him. When I told my mum the news, I asked her not to tell anyone until I was 12 weeks (I was only 4 weeks) in case of a m/c, my mum's reply was "don't be silly women in our family don't m/c". Needless to say that comment & my pure joy gave me the confidence to tell friends and family.

    I was 8weeks pregnant and spending the weekend away from my husband for my cousins 30th (3hr drive away). Whilst staying at my aunty's I started spotting, another cousin who is a nurse warned me not to worry it could be implantation bleeding. Later that night, I couldn't sleep and felt a desperate need to be with my husband, I woke my brother, wrote a note to my sleeping family and drove home.

    Around lunch time the next day the cramps started & the bleeding became heavier, it was a Sunday so my husband took me to the hospital. The cramps were so painful & coming in waves on top of each other.

    At the hospital I was given an u/s and it was confirmed that I was in the process of losing our baby. When the doctor was examining me, my cervix was open and he was removing parts of the embryo manually, I was screaming in pain & for my husband (they kept sending him out of the room).

    The doctor wanted to do a D&C, I refused as I had had enough and just wanted to go home. It was decided that I would have follow up blood tests to ensure the natural m/c was complete. Miraculously, I avoided a D&C for my first m/c, I wasn't so lucky with my 2nd, but that's another story.....

    I have 2 earth babies now, but I still cry for my angels that I didn't get to meet. After DD1 was born I grieved for those babies again, as I had a greater understanding of what I had lost.

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  11. #6
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    That was actually really hard to write, felt nausea the entire time. I hope it helps someone.

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    Thank you to those who are brave enough to share their stories xox

  14. #8
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    Okay, here goes. I have miscarried a few times in my life, the last time being when I was 13 weeks or so. Before that, I'd miscarried around the 8 week mark at which point my body eliminated what it needed to and no hospital intervention was needed. That night, though, I'd been suffering cramps in the few days prior and then started to spot. I remember it being a particularly cold night that night and the drive was a long one. I also remember very distinctly an owl sitting on the garage roof as we got into the car. The severe, clamping cramps as I called them came on at around 2am and the pain was that bad, we went to the hospital where mercifully they saw us straight away. It didn't take long to understand what was going on, that the baby had died. I agreed to a D&C and I was out that day. I didn't retrieve any remains, I didn't bury anything, I didn't name and I didn't memorialise. I left the hospital, went home, rested and then went back to work. And I don't feel guilty about this although I was made to feel as though I should be. For me, the way I viewed it was that the pregnancy was faulty, that my body had recognised this and had acted accordingly and that I had to start again. And that, ironically, that was life too. My personal spiritual beliefs also came into play and, coupled with this, while I briefly mourned the loss during that night, I chose not to dwell on the what-might-have-beens and the maybes and instead directed my focus to the future. I have since had full-term pregnancies that have resulted in healthy children and am now pregnant with a third. As I have yet to reach the 12 week mark, I am calm, not in a rush to organise anything and accept that if it is to be it will happen and all in due course. I write this experience to provide a contrast to what I found has become expected behaviour regarding miscarriage and that if someone out there is dealing with their loss in a similar fashion that it's okay to do so and that not looking back doesn't mean you're heartless.

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  16. #9
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    Big hugs to all those that have gone through the pain and heart break of a miscarriage.

    I got my first BFP in December 2010 just a few days before Christmas. What a great present, especially after TTC for almost 2 years! Felt even luckier as we conceived on our first cycle of IVF. I was given the good news from my blood test over the phone by my FS and he told me that he didn't want to see me until I was 8 weeks for a scan (I was going to use him as my obstetrician).

    Everything seemed to be ok. Lots of pregnancy symptoms including nausea and sore boobs. Got through Christmas and New Years and even a rough camping trip through flood waters. Then just before I hit the 8 week mark I got up on a Saturday morning, went to the loo and I was spotting and it was bright red. Cue major freak out. After talking to a friend for some advice I called my obs after hours number. He was less than helpful and told me I should try and see a GP and get bloods taken and a scan if I could. My GP didn't open weekends so I rang around trying to find one that was open and had an appointment free. Finally got an appointment but had to wait another hour. I was so nervous and anxious and kept going to the loo to see if the spotting was any worse. It seemed to be a little heavier but still only when I wiped.

    The GP was so lovely. He drew the blood himself so I didn't have to find a pathology place still open and rang around to find somewhere for me to have a scan ASAP. Much more helpful than the ob and very caring. Never forget how he went above and beyond his job that day to help me.

    I set off to the scan place. They had to call in a sonographer so I had to sit and wait until they arrived. I tried to call my husband. He was 1000km away at work but on night shift so his phone was off. I didn't leave a message as I didn't want him waking up to that. I went to the loo again while waiting to have my scan and it didn't make me hopeful. I was no longer spotting, I was bleeding. Bright red and quite a lot...more like a period.

    Finally the lady arrived and took me in for the scan. There was my baby. A tiny little spot but it was there...and it had a heart beat but it was lower than what is expected for how far along I was. She wouldn't say much else. I managed to wait for the scans, pay and get out to my car before I burst into tears. I had a lot of missed calls and texts from my mum and sister who I was supposed to have met up with earlier. I called and shared what was happening. Such a horrible phone call.

    I spent the rest of the day with them looking after me and waiting to hear from the ob with the BT results and the scan report. I was also counting down the hours until my husband would be waking up to go to work so I could speak with him.

    The obstetrician eventually called. My Hcg was too low for being almost 8 weeks and he was fairly certain by what the scan showed that I was miscarrying. Again he was not very helpful and didn't give me any advice or support. I was too distraught to think to ask any questions.

    The call to my husband was awful. As soon as he found out he said he would get a flight home ASAP. Unfortunately he couldn't get home until the next day.

    That night was the worst. The bleeding increased as did the painful cramps. I was in agony. Nurofen plus and a heat pack barely did a thing. I spent the night tossing and turning in pain and sobbing. In the middle of the night I passed quite a large clot type thing and after that the cramping eased slightly.

    I spent the next week on the couch or in bed. I didn't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I was bleeding and still in pain. I saw the ob later in the week and he did a scan to make sure I didn't need a d and c. I didn't thank goodness. I had passed it all naturally. One small mercy.

    The uncaring attitude from the FS/ob led me to find a new one to start my next IVF cycle with. It was a like a fresh start when we tried again in April. I am lucky enough to now have 2 beautiful boys. One conceived that April after my miscarriage through a frozen IVF cycle and another a natural miracle who is 16 months younger than his big brother.

    I have a tattoo on my wrist in memory of our first little miracle.

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  18. #10
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    When I was miscarrying I tried to find real stories too. I think this thread is a great idea.
    I noticed the smallest smear of pink first thing Sunday morning. Thought that's abit different but because I had some brown spotting with ds I wasn't worried. Then the spotting was in my undies and red. I put a liner on. It was half full of red blood in two hours. I put a pad on and took ds for a walk on the pram to put him to sleep. I lay on the bed next to ds and had a nap. When we woke up the pad was full. I went outside to tell DH that I thought I was miscarrying and felt the clot as I was saying the words slip out. I went inside to check and our little emby fell in the toilet. I scooped her out and placed her on a clean pad. I just felt so empty after that. We were 7 weeks. We will bury her out at the farm. I just want to know I did the best for her.

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