Falling apart

I'm sorry to come and share such terrible news, but feel it will be cathartic to get it out.

In my last post I mentioned that things her had gone from mad chaos to madder chaos! Part of that was driven by the lovely news in October that we were expecting our third, and much wanted, baby. Ironically, I had just increased my working hours to two days a week, with the intention of taking on a third day in the New Year. Life was about to get complicated again. We talked and worried about the future - what if James regressed again when the new baby arrived, how would I cope with three children, what would the summer holidays be like, juggling a new baby and James (as well as Bea), how would Bea cope - she's already playing second fiddle to James and a new baby would possibly sideline her even more. And we made plans for the future, where the baby would sleep, what new car we would buy, sorting out all the clothes that I've hoarded in the loft, planning names, excitement at the prospect of a summer not working and looking after my lovely children. The future looked bright and exciting, as well as challenging.

Three days ago our world fell apart. I was 12 to 13 weeks pregnant (my dates are a little uncertain and whilst I had pushed for an earlier scan it never happened) and went to my nuchal fold scan. We had agreed that if the nuchal fold was suggestive of any abnormalities I would go forward for further testing. We never anticipated what happened when I entered the room. I took Bea along, and will probably regret that for the rest of my life. I wish I hadn't allowed her to experience what was the most painful morning of my entire life.

There were two sonographers in the room, the trainee and her supervisor. The trainee started the scan and David and I were beaming with excitement. We were about to meet our new baby. At first all she could find was my (very full!) bladder, then there was a gestational sac. There was something inside it, but I wasn't convinced it was quite what we should be seeing at this stage. The supervising sonographer took over and as soon as she put the probe back on my abdomen I knew what we were facing. She asked me if I had experienced any pain or bleeding and I felt like saying "not until you asked me, and now I am breaking in two". She asked me to empty my bladder so I could have an internal, and I went to the loo all composed and serene as if it was happening to someone else. I'm still not sure if David understood at this point or not. The internal showed the sac and a collection of cells but no heartbeat. I told her I could see there wasn't a heartbeat and I knew what had happened. I needed to know when my baby had stopped growing and she said around 9 or 10 weeks. I got dressed and was taken to a side room, where I shed a few tears and then composed myself for Bea's sake.

The next hour was the most horrific of my life. We went up to the Gynaecology ward, and waited, and waited, and waited. There were no tissues, there were posters about Chlamydia screening, there were other women in there laughing and cuddling their partners (I now know most of them were waiting for early scans because of bleeding or pain) and I just wanted to die. I felt as though my life had come to an end, that it would never be the same again. I just wanted to close the book, and reopen it at a new and happier ending. I wanted them to be wrong and to still have my baby inside me. I finally saw a nurse and she suggested I should just let things happen naturally. Or I could take some drugs that would induce a miscarriage. But I want the possiblity of some answers, and have pushed to have an operation as that way histology can be performed. If I can find out that there was some sort of reason for this to happen I will feel more at ease. Perhaps it was a genetic defect or an infection that meant the baby couldn't survive. Then I can stop torturing myself with all the questions I'm currently asking myself.

Think of me on Monday, when I will be spending most of the day at the hospital. I don't know how it will go but I will come back and share with you as soon as I feel able.