Let's talk about Miscarriage

I've written some personal posts on here before. This one is a tough one. But I think it's important to share...

Blighted Ovum. Another medical term that 2020 has unthankfully taught me. 

“It’s happening”. These are two words that have tattooed me.

I was about to join yet another video call when my wife decided to surprise me. “I got you a late birthday present” she said. It was a couple of weeks after my birthday, It was packaged in a box with some tissue paper. I had no idea what it was. I lifted the paper. There was my gift. A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

A hug. A kiss.

All I could muster was “I’ve got a call in two minutes!”. I was in complete shock.

“Take another one! We need to be sure!”…”There are two in there, I’m sure”.

A call. A cuddle. A tear…maybe. Shock.

Then joy. Expectation! What can you eat, what’s forbidden? Who do you tell, who do we protect ‘just in case’. A trip to the hospital to get our folder, dates set for the scan.

What about names? A boy, no not him I went to school with him. No not her! Not a chance! Oh that one… yes that could work. 10 weeks passed.

On a Monday morning my wife entered the room with tears in her eye. I had no idea why. I cuddled her. “I’m bleeding”.

My world did not fall apart. All I could think was that this was a hiccup, probably just something normal that happens. Unfortunately in a COVID world we were told to head to A&E (Emergency Room) where we’d have some tests. Because of COVID I couldn’t enter the hospital. Some time passed, I sat in the car. I worried about the cost of parking, I looked at my phone. I sat in the car. I worried.

Then my wife called to say she’d be out soon, I could tell she’d been crying.

We didn’t really talk until we got home. The baby hadn’t formed. We learned the term ‘Blighted Ovum’. It meant a certain miscarriage, and a horrendous waiting game.

We knew we weren’t really pregnant anymore. But we didn’t know what to expect next. A few days later I was on a work call when I got a text from my wife, who was in a room upstairs. “I need you, It’s happening”.

She was having her miscarriage. Neither of us knew what that entailed but we guessed what snacks and supplies we’d need. Some painkillers, heavy duty sanitary towels, and a bucket load of sweets.

We set up camp in the bathroom and the bedroom next door. We’d see this through together. It was shit, but we’d get through it as a team.

She bled, and bled and bled. Is this normal? How much is too much? Give it another half an hour and maybe we’ll call the hospital….then she fainted. Luckily I caught her, then she had a seizure. Then she was in an ambulance, COVID, I couldn’t go with her. I raced the Ambulance to the hospital.

 She went in to A&E. COVID. I wasn’t allowed in.

It was a couple of days, and a couple of blood transfusions later that I saw my wife. It was the most scared I’ve ever been in my life. In the darkest part of my mind I thought she would die. I sat at home, alone, I worried, and I cried.

When her condition was stable and she was strong enough she had to have an emergency operation, a D&C in its common name or a ‘Dilation and Curettage’ for us laypeople. None of this was normal terminology. We had no idea what it meant, what we should expect, or how it meant we fared for future childbirth attempts.

We had no idea what was going on. How long anything would take. How long it’d be before we got to see each other again. Or what the future held for us.

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Thankfully after being pumped with more spinach than Popeye my wife is back to fighting fit. We’ve had a great support network behind us and we’re doing our best to close ugly the chapter behind us. We probably haven’t fully processed everything yet, we will, it will take time. There are still the occasional tears.

To take any small positive from what is undoubtedly the worst moment in my life to date. – I think it’s made us closer than we’ve ever been in our 14 year relationship. We’ve been to the darkest place I can imagine, and we’ve survived it. Together.

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So why am I telling you - my colleagues, my clients, 2nd & 3rd party connections that I’ve never met - about this horrendous, painful, and private moment in mine and my wives life?

The simple fact is that too many people suffer in silence.

For anyone that does know me, you’ll know that I’m passionate about breaking the stigmas that surround mental health.

On 10th October it was World Mental Health day – miscarriage, and the mental strain that it produces is unlike any mental challenge I’ve faced to date. I was also told it is Baby Loss Awareness week this week.

One in Four

According to the charity Tommy’s an estimated 1-in-4 pregnancies will end in miscarriage. 25% of pregnancies. ONE IN FOUR. When I read that I just couldn’t believe it. How many of my friends, family & colleagues have gone through this hellish experience?! How many have suffered in silence, alone. What good does not talking about miscarriage - something that is so common - do?

It’s important that we all recognise just how common miscarriage is. But that if we are able to talk about it openly, that we can support others, and ourselves through what is a completely traumatic time.

We only know a couple of people that have gone through miscarriage. We had very few people who we thought we could turn to for support – we’re lucky that the support we had came in troves. The ability to talk to someone with shared experience was invaluable for both me and my wife.

We know there are many, many others who will have experienced this, who might still be suffering with the results – either physically or mentally. Some are likely carrying this alone.

I’m sure there will be Men, like me, who have learned what it feels like to be truly helpless, but who have had no one to turn to.

If anyone who reads this is in that situation and wants a shoulder to lean on then please give me a shout, and Tommys has some fantastic resources to help you through.

I’d also like to give a huge shout out to my wonderful colleague and friend Sam – who wrote about his experience so beautifully here, and who’s story has the happiest of endings. He doesn’t know it (yet) but him sharing his story, knowing that I wasn’t alone, really helped me. I hope this post can pay that forward and help someone else.

My wife and I co-wrote this post. I was difficult, but it was cathartic.

Stay safe,

Rich

P.S. Word of advice - please stop asking couples when they are going to have kids. You don't know what they might have been through.