Monday 8 February 2016

Never Forgotten by Becca O'Neil

When people talk about having kids often it's just the next thing to be ticked off the Life List. No biggie: just get pregnant, have a baby... Easy. But it doesn't work that way for everyone. In fact, statistically most people encounter some sort of challenge during this process. I’m now ready to share my challenge. The taboo was one of the hardest things to get my head around and it shouldn't be. So here goes.

In October 2014 we found out I was pregnant after only a very short time of trying. We were ecstatic and busy planning our new life as a three. What we weren't prepared for, was at 7 weeks when the bleeding started but then stopped again, would the baby okay? We were told to wait another 2 weeks and take another test, the test still came back positive and the docs reassured us that everything was probably okay. Already an emotional roller coaster, up down and back up again and only just 9 weeks pregnant. 

Two days later I collapsed in the most amount of pain I've ever been in. I was in the car, on my own with a dead phone. I somehow drove myself to A and E and got taken straight through to majors, managed to call my husband from the hospital phone, left a message and hoped he would arrive. 

He arrived just as the doctors decided that my pregnancy was probably a ruptured ectopic but still they couldn't be sure. I had many tests and was on morphine which still wasn't taking the edge off. By this time it was gone midnight and I was transferred to a ward. I was terrified, left alone and all I wanted to do was to stay with my husband. He wasn't allowed back in until 3pm the next day by which point I'd been prodded, poked, examined and sent down for a scan to confirm what was becoming only a formality. 

It was a new born clinic where I was sent to wait and I can't explain how hard that was. Being in the same room with so many beautiful new babies whilst I sat in my pyjamas with lines coming out of me, knowing that I had a baby at that moment in time but that I was unlikely to ever meet them was the most horrendous experience of my entire life. 

I finally went in after 30 minutes of witnessing mums bouncing their babies and smiling at me, only to be told that my baby was ectopic and had ruptured my tube and that I would need emergency surgery to remove it. 

I was then put back in the room with the babies whilst they waited to transfer me back to the ward and at that point I fell apart. My husband finally found me after being misdirected around the hospital and scooped me up. He took over and I don't remember leaving the ultra sound or getting back to the ward. I do however remember several months later going for a check up and finding myself physically unable to go in to the ultrasound room. I was crying hysterically, reliving the horrendous memory all over again.

The surgeon came in and I was prepared for surgery. I signed the forms in a blur. By this point I was on stronger morphine and I think I've blocked most of it out. But what I do remember is having to sign a form to allow my embryo to be cremated. This stayed with me and is something I still struggle with. Despite knowing it could never have survived, I felt like I was killing my baby by signing this form. It took a long time to come to terms with that. 

I lost my right Fallopian tube, a lot of blood (several litres) and struggled with a reaction to the gas they had used and so had a 5 day stay in hospital and several weeks of disappearing off the grid to recover physically. Only a handful of people knew. I couldn't talk about it, think about it, or see a pregnant person without wondering why us, what did we do? The answer being nothing, it was just one of those things.

I began to not function and completely shut myself off from the world. I finally sought help after 6 months, at that point I was crying on a daily basis and could think of nothing else. The thoughts wouldn't stop. After keeping everything bottled up I finally shared with my husband what I was feeling. His unwavering care, teamed with support from my GP and several online forums where I could share my story and found others in the same boat, allowed me to begin to feel ‘normal’ again. I said yes to going out with friends and finally felt free of the confines of my own thoughts.

Miscarriage and ectopic pregnancies generally happen in the early stages of pregnancies and most won’t have told anyone they're pregnant. This prevents it being easily discussed and creates the isolation which is so debilitating. 

Hopes, dreams, excitement and happiness are all invested the moment you get a blue line on the pregnancy test. My baby wasn’t born but I will never forget them. I had to grieve for a child I had never met and only by allowing myself to come to terms with that grief did I start to get back to me again. Let’s create a world in which we can talk without fear of stigma. #itaffectsme. 



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