the LOST ones


My Story

When I was seven our teacher asked the class to write down what we wanted to be when we grew up and for once in my seven short years I did not have to contemplate this, the only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was a mother.

As the years went on, my dream of being a mother never faltered and when I was 18 I accidentally fell pregnant, but for me it was the beginning of my dream, I had so much love to give and had great family support so I was able to confidently bring my wonderful daughter into the world.

Becoming a mother made realise that I wanted more children, but I didn’t want to do it alone next time, and so after a few years I met someone who I thought was special and well on the pill I fell pregnant accidentally once again, but sadly this pregnancy was not meant to be and at the tender age of 21 I experienced my first miscarriage. Even though this pregnancy was not planned the pain was just as damaging and after a time I moved on as did the father.

Over the following four years I did not think too much of the miscarriage as I had finally put it down to something that would not happen again. How wrong was I?

When I was 23 and my darling daughter was only months away from starting school I met the most wonderful man, who later became my husband. We shared the same dreams and hopes of having a big family and after a while we decided to make that dream a reality and get pregnant. Being naïve I just assumed that I would fall pregnant instantly and that everything would go to plan, well that was not how it was, I did not fall pregnant on the first try like I thought I would, but eventually I did and on fathers day 2000 I presented my lovely man with a positive test as his pressie, we were both so happy and we spent the morning ringing friends and rellies with our happy news. Sadly this feeling did not last and at 6 ½ weeks I miscarried again.

Over the next 3 years we tried again and again to fulfil our dream and with each pregnancy that we lost a little part of our dream diminished, we had suffered through 12 miscarriages since we started trying and then in March 2004 I fell pregnant again, in the beginning everything seemed to be going well, increasing hcg levels, a general feeling of being pregnant, we thought we had done it this time, so at 6 ½ weeks I went in for my first scan, but they couldn’t find my baby, not anywhere, I was told to come back four days later to try again, my heart just sank I felt so hopeless. So four days later I’m back in there and this time they find my baby, perfect size with a perfect little beating heart, he just wasn’t in the right place, he was stuck in my fallopian tube. I lost my left tube that day, and I lost another precious baby.

After spending a month recovering and another month letting everything get back to normal we decided to give it one last shot. The only problem was now I had to deal with decreased fertility due to having only one tube. Fortunately this did not hinder our odds and found myself pregnant in record time on our second cycle.

We decided that if this pregnancy should sadly end like all the others, then we were not going to try again.

At six weeks I saw the heart beating, at ten weeks I saw my little bub wave to me and at 13 weeks I graduated from the recurrent miscarriage clinic, our dream was coming true.

We continued through pregnancy with me never once complaining about the usual pregnancy complaints, I enjoyed the morning sickness (even if it did put me in hospital), the heartburn and backache, all these things reminded me I was pregnant and I wasn’t going to take any of it for granted.

I spent my pregnancy buying beautiful things for my baby, finally being able to do a proper nursery and having the much wanted baby shower. I got to show off my baby bump from about 14 weeks and I enjoyed the constant kicking which assured me that my little bubs was all good. I was so proud and for once I felt like I fitted in with all the other proud mummy’s to be.

On the 8th of April I went in for my fortnightly scan and there was there was my little bubs head down and ready and waiting to be born, everything was fine. I couldn’t wait, my day was finally here in a couple of weeks my little baby would be here in my arms.

But then three days later on April 11th when I was 38 weeks I realised that my usually very active bubs was no longer very active so I ventured to the hospital and a midwife hooked me up to the foetal monitor to try and find baby’s heartbeat, a heartbeat was found and I was told not to worry, they were waiting for my specialist to come and scan me, but the heartbeat they found, I knew was not my baby’s, this heartbeat was mine, yet still I hoped…

When they finally hooked the scan up, I was told that my baby had turned breech and then those words that that I wish so much to forget but are forever engraved in my head

“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat, your baby has died.”

At first I did not believe them until I looked at my midwife and saw the tears pouring down her face, then I just curled into foetal position and cried, I cried for my angel baby and I cried for my lost dream. How could we have gotten this far after everything we have had to endure, and then have our precious baby taken from us so quickly, it wasn’t fair to have our hearts ripped from us so cruelly.

Apart from my midwife I was all alone, my husband was at work, so he had to be told and then we had to tell our little girl who had as many hopes for her brother as we had. This is a day I never wish to repeat.

I had to come in the next day to be induced, something I was not looking forward to as it would make this a reality, but I’m glad that I got to spend another night with my baby boy in my womb, I went and sat on a beach and I just cried and talked to him and told him how much he was wanted, how much he is loved, how much I wished that this never happened, I told him that he would forever be my first born son and I was so proud of him and I thanked him for choosing me as his mummy and being a part of my life.

The next day at the hospital, the first few hours were a literal blur as they explained what was going to happen, and they asked what I wanted, funny question really considering all I really wanted was my boy back.

At 12pm I was given the gel and was told I would probably need another lot six hours later. This whole time I’m still praying it’s all a bad dream, but no, life’s not that kind. After nothing happening, at 6pm another lot of gel and then at 7pm a contraction and then finally after an easy and for the last 3 hours drug free labour I gave birth to my beautiful breech baby boy Riley at 2.25am on April 13th.

I had waited 5 years to hold this baby, and as I waited reality set in. l longed to hear him cry out to see his arms reaching out and not matter how much I willed it, it just wasn’t meant to be. And when he was placed in my arms I looked at my boy a saw a beautiful sleeping baby, who was so little (5lb 4oz) and had chubby cheeks and a little button nose, with ten tiny toes and ten wee fingers, whose skin was so soft and smooth and I kissed him and I loved him and I promised to hold him in my heart forever.

That day I lost a part of myself forever and I know that I will never be the same, my life is eternally changed. I have grown and I am stronger for I have felt a love that goes beyond anything I have ever felt before. Everyday I think of Riley and even if it’s through tears I smile and I remember how happy I am that I had the chance to nurture him and how blissfully contented he made me whilst he was here with me. I am lucky to have had such a wonderful son in my life. (Thank you Riley).

By Jacqui

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