Was a lad (easy). Now a dad to Daisy & Seth (less easy).

Time To Talk…

21 Comments

I really umm’d and aah’d (is that even how you write it?!) about posting this. But here goes…

We lost a baby.

It was last July, 15 months ago.

And it was bloody awful.

I’m writing about it because I noticed that my Facebook and Twitter feed this week has been full of posts about Baby Loss Awareness Week.

My wife and I didn’t really tell many people about her miscarriage, so writing this now feels like a very alien thing to be doing.

And, I should say from the off, our situation was our situation; I can’t speak for anyone else, nor would I ever try to do so.

But there was one thing I realised as a result of the unwanted experience:

Nobody talks about miscarriage.

It was the single most traumatic thing my wife and I have experienced together, yet it felt like it was an experience that should be undertaken ‘behind closed doors’.

My wife rang me when I was at work (this was 11 weeks into her pregnancy) to say that something wasn’t right. I’m an optimist, but even I sensed from her tone that this seemed serious. That night we knew we had to go to A&E… but nobody knew she was pregnant. What would we do with the other two kids?

We rang a close friend who came round to look after them and we went to A&E. The doctor we saw was amazing, although from her tone of voice and the way she was speaking we both suspected that there was a very good chance that my wife was suffering a miscarriage.

She told us to return the next day if there were any more signs of discomfort.

There were.

And it became very obvious during the night that this wasn’t going to be the outcome we wanted.

I had NO IDEA what a physical trauma it would be for my wife. Perhaps I was naïve? I don’t know. But watching her go through the physical side of the miscarriage was heart-wrenching.

The next morning at 6am I rang my mum because we needed to go to hospital urgently. It was the most awful phone call to make as she had no idea we were expecting. In the space of thirty seconds I had to effectively tell her that she was due to have another grandchild on the way… but we were losing the baby.

I uttered the words (quietly) “I think she’s having a miscarriage”.

I hadn’t verbalised it until that point.

I burst into tears.

Sobbed.

(Over a year on and I can feel myself getting emotional about it now).

I hadn’t shed a single tear until that moment. I wanted to be ‘strong’ (whatever that means) for my wife. Saying the words though… that made it real.

By the time we were in hospital we 100% knew what had happened. They couldn’t get us in for a scan to confirm the miscarriage so we booked a private scan as we simply couldn’t wait. We just needed to know.

Watching my wife lie down as the sonographer searched for something we knew she wouldn’t find made us both incredibly emotional. But, at last, we knew.

God, it was shit. Really shit.

We didn’t want to tell anyone but then decided to tell our close family. I set up a whatsapp group entitled ‘Some news’. My brother-in-law, unwittingly saw the group and whilst I was composing the message got in there first with “You’re expecting?!?!”

Everything had changed in the space of 24 hours.

As soon as you see that plus sign on the pregnancy stick, you immediately become 110% emotionally invested and attached to your unborn baby. Even knowing the risks of pregnancy, you can’t help but let your mind run wild with thoughts of the gender, names and what he or she will look like.

It’s human nature.

A few weeks earlier my wife and I were stood, arm in arm, at a Take That concert just hours after finding out she was pregnant.

Gary Barlow was singing:

“Today this could be the greatest day of our lives”…

And as cheesy as it sounds, we swayed arm in arm, with our amazing secret that we’d just found out, feeling like it really was the greatest day.

Now we were sat in my car. Crying. Feeling like there was nobody to share the sadness with.

So I’ll say it again:

Nobody talks about miscarriage.

It’s a solo venture.

But why?

I don’t claim to be a statistician, but the one that kept popping up is that one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage.

This isn’t unusual.

It isn’t taboo.

The only thing that is strange about it is the silence that surrounds it.

Some people don’t like to talk about things, especially of such a personal nature.

But perhaps it would be better to create a society, in which there is more openness around the subject of miscarriage for those that do want to.

We have been very blessed since then to have welcomed Baby Honey into our lives. I am very aware that everyone’s experiences are vastly different and, as such, I can only speak from my perspective.

This was a pre-12 week loss, the fact that we hadn’t announced the pregnancy meant we didn’t have to tell everyone what had happened, or face the inevitable questions from people weeks down the line who hadn’t found out but wanted to see how mum and baby were getting on.

I just wanted to write this because it would seem strange to be thinking how ‘nobody talks’ about it and then not talk about it myself.

So big love to everyone; especially those who have been or are going through anything similar.

R x

PS Next blog will be slightly more upbeat…!

candles

Advertisements

Author: lad2dad

Dad to Daisy (aged 5) and Seth (aged 3) & Honey (aged hardly anything at all). And I chat on the radio for a living.

21 thoughts on “Time To Talk…

  1. Bloody hell Rich. Much love to you. And to have to come on air like you’re your usual jovial self. My heart broke for you reading this xx

    • Hey Paula – thanks for taking the time to comment. Was certainly a bit strange working through it. In fact, my wife rang me around 6pm that night during my show to say she felt something wasn’t right. My job is ACE but that’s certainly a moment where it was hard to focus on what I was meant to be doing! R x

  2. Hi Rich,

    I’m sorry for the loss you and your wife have suffered.
    Last November I was admitted to hospital after seeing my GP as I had a persistent cough….I was just over 19week pregnant. I was in hospital for 2 days having tests for a suspected clot on my lungs and on the 3rd day was moved wards. The new wards sister was an ex midwife and asked if anyone had listened to baby’s heartbeat since my admission…I told her no. Long story short that was the day that destroyed my world as I knew it…my fiances too. I was never to meet my baby and on the day I would have been 20 weeks i was induced and went through 12 hours of labour to deliver our baby who we would never hold. Something a lot of people don’t realise you have ever to do so early on.

    Miscarriage changed me in so many ways but me and my fiance are strong and I’m delighted to say after losing our first baby and struggling to find a way to cope we are now expecting our second child due 21st February. I’m understandably anxious but trying to put that to our earlier side and focus on staying healthy. 12 weeks after my due date, on the 28th may, I get married.

    Hopefully next year will be our year!

    Thank you for blogging about this. We need awareness of miscarriage to support vital funding for the charities who provide help and are trying to reduce the rates of miscarriage.

    Take care of your little family x

    • Stacey thank you so much for your thoughtful comment. Interesting you wrote about having to deliver which is something a lot of people don’t realise. I totally agree in that I was very ignorant to the ‘process’ for want of a better word. I have all my fingers crossed for you that 2017 is going to be magical. I’m sure it will be. Much love. Rich x

  3. Sending hugs, went through something very similar, I lost a baby at 14 wks 25 years ago and still think about him or her now. I did go on 2 have a baby girl (my rainbow baby). Another beautiful girl to add to the one I already had. Thanks rich for sharing your thoughts and feelings , know it must have been tough. ❤️

  4. You hit the nail on the head when you say that you become emotionally invested from the day you find out. You start planning and hoping and dreaming, in spite of all the risks. And I think that may be why people find it so hard to talk about, because it’s impossible to explain the enormity of the loss when some people would see it as though you’d never really had anything to lose in the first place. It’s an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and I’m so sorry for you and your wife. We also went on to have another baby but I think about what could’ve been all the time. Great post 🙂

  5. Really feel your pain. Went through the same thing once at 24 weeks and again at 12 weeks xxxx

  6. Thank you for taking the time to write this hopefully the more people do the more it will be talked about! Xxx

  7. My heart goes out to you both ❤️
    I lost my son to cot death when he was 14 weeks old. Thank you for sharing your story and breaking the silence on baby loss awareness xxx

  8. Sometimes no words are needed 💙💖💔

  9. How incredibly brave of you to write this, and very sad to read. I’m so sorry to you both for the trauma you have experienced, as well as countless others that have suffered. Pleased that you have been blessed since.

  10. 💖

  11. This made me cry.
    I can only imagine how you and Naomi must have felt but I am probably not even close….
    I think people don’t talk about it as there’s a feeling maybe others can’t understand losing someone who doesn’t ‘exist’ in the outside world as yet. But that someone does exist and the loss of any child is a tough one. Maybe, in a strange way, if it were spoken about as a death people would speak about it more as they would feel they could relate?
    Folk fear things unknown. It also doesn’t help with all the memes of things you shouldn’t say to someone. Makes people think it’s easier to not talk at all.
    I am so sorry you suffered such a loss.
    Love and hugs x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s