The private scan
I can remember it like it was yesterday.
We had booked a private pregnancy scan to meet our baby for the first time. I was lying on the plinth and knew something wasn’t right. I could feel the lady’s breathing pattern and body language change and she took a while to speak. Then there it was – the sentence no-one is ever prepared to hear.
‘I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.’
I was in disbelief and shock. Everything felt like it was in slow-motion. My heart beat felt loud in my ears, my breathing was fast and shallow, and my mouth was dry.
This quickly handed over to a feeling of zoning out. A slowing down of my heart rate, a vacant breath, and silence. I felt frozen and numb.
We had gone for the scan when I was 9 and a half weeks pregnant to find out that I had experienced a missed miscarriage and that our baby had died two weeks prior to the scan.
From the moment you find out you are pregnant, you begin imagining, planning and picturing a life with your baby. And to have it taken away in a moment is utterly heartbreaking.
Moving through the stages of grief
The grief of this news floored us. We moved through feelings of disbelief, anger, sadness and disconnection. The world felt so unfair, and I felt so vulnerable.
How could the world carry on as normal whilst our own world had fallen apart?
Everything felt unsafe and triggering. Suddenly seeing pregnant women, babies, children, scan facilities, hospitals, and anything to do with babies felt like it took my breath away, and again I would zone out and remember our reality.
My sleep was poor, but I would wake up and not want to get out of bed. My anxiety levels were high, my social interactions were reduced and I felt disconnected from my body. I had tension headaches and jaw pain.
I felt triggered by comments like ‘at least it was early’,’ it wasn’t meant to be’ and ‘it’s really common’. But it was the silence that hurt the most.