You would have been turning 9: My miscarriage story
You would have been turning 9.
How can it have been over 9 years since that day when the sonographer confirmed what I already knew in my heart. That my baby had stopped growing. I remember the day so clearly.
Having only been pregnant once before (which led to my oldest son) I had little reference but I knew something was wrong almost as soon as I knew I was pregnant. I remember very early on thinking something wasn’t right but hushing my own fears to myself with an attempted reassuring ‘Every pregnancy is different, Sally’. I clung onto my pregnancy. But I knew.  I had no bleeding. No pain, nothing to suggest that I was having a miscarriage. But I knew.

Having suffered with morning sickness and the smell of un-toasted bread when pregnant with Dalton, the moment that clinched my decision to get a private scan was when I caught myself in the kitchen with my nose in a bag of bread, inhaling deeply, desperately searching for a nausea to wash over me that never came.
The sonographer was kind but clear. The baby had stopped growing at around six weeks. It’s heart had never started to beat, but of course it had in mine.
The next few days were hell, half of me willing my body to reject the pregnancy and actually miscarry so it was over, and the other half willing with all my might for my little one to hang on in there and prove everyone wrong.
Nature took its course and I began to lose the pregnancy a few days after the scan. I became quite unwell and ended up in hospital with severely low blood pressure. I was treated so kindly and gently but it didn’t ease my pain.

I was released after a couple of days with a reassuring hug from the nurses that I’d be back soon in happier circumstances.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the experience. The crude practicalities of being mopped up by someone you’ve never met, signing consent forms you never could have imagined even existed. Feeling like your world was crashing down around you even though you were ‘well’ and others around you were really very ill. It is a horror that will stay with me.
And as for my Lost Little One, so will she. I miss her now just as I did then. I feel the pain and loss almost as acutely, and she will always be with me.
I am so blessed with four beautiful children, but I will never forget the one who just wasn’t meant to be in my arms, but who will always be in my heart.

Sally Hall is mum to four delicious little people, a wife, businesswoman and author. Her debut children's book is Down in the Den.

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