The Twelve Week Secret (Parenting Aus)
We wanted to keep our first pregnancy to ourselves until the “safe” twelve week mark, and keeping the secret was exciting! (Well, nauseating and exciting all wrapped up together). With my uncertain second pregnancy things were different. We needed people to know because we needed support. You can read my story at Parenting Australia, but here’s a snippet…
There were no guarantees that this pregnancy was going to be… what do they call it? Viable. My head told me to protect myself and expect the worst. My heart told me to will this baby to stay with me. My common sense told me I couldn’t keep this a secret.
The rest of the article is here.
PS – the more time I spend with mums in real life and online, the more I hear about the deep sadness and pain associated with miscarriage. To the mums reading this who have lost little ones – I cannot begin to imagine your grief but my heart goes out to you. May you find joy again.
Sadly miscarriage , pregnancyloss and stillbirth, neonatal death touches so many lives.
Too many grieve in silence because they don’t get support or acknowledgement whatever gestation there precious babe is.
Thanks for sharing your experiences Cath and bringing the topic into the open.
From Pattycam:
I told everyone when I fell with my first child, I couldn’t contain such happy joyful news. The same with my second, we were delighted that our son might have a close brother or sister, but at 15 weeks we suddenly lost him. My doctor suggested that I call him Phillip, as he and his wife had done when they had lost their little miscarriages. I fell again soon afterwards, and this time I was a little nervous, I never expected my body to ‘let me down’ with a miscarriage, so I was apprehensive. The pregnancy went ok, but not the usual kicking and moving. I was carrying her differently too, so didn’t worry too much, although in the back of my mind something was wrong. At 19 weeks, she stopped moving. I went for a scan a few days later, and sure enough, she had died in vitro. An unholy HOWL came from me, ripped out, as the doctor doing the scan looked at the screen, and said. “It’s dead” or words to that effect. It was like being underwater, his words were muffled, but we all knew the shocking result. I had to have a labour, and before they whisked the baby away I insisted on a photograph, and what sex it was. Sure enough, a girl, grossly deformed and monsterish. I named her Sarah, after my ancestor who lost 8 babies to miscarriage. It seemed apt. I had to go home then to our darling happy, bright, cuddly son. I couldn’t hold him for 2 days. I then began to doubt my ability to even carry a child. Perhaps we were to be a single child family? I couldn’t bear the thought, remembering the fun I enjoyed in a large boisterous family of five. The forth time I fell pregnant, I told everyone, again, to give me strength to ‘hang in there’ and 9 months later our lovely boy slid out, looked around, and began to breastfeed. He is now 20, and always a delight. I now joke that I don’t make very good girls, just perfect sons. And that suits me just fine. To anyone who had lost a child through miscarriage (25%) I hold you in my arms. Please name them, and remember them, but try not to dwell, life goes on. Somehow, and surely, one foot in front of the other, but it does go on. Blessings.
Wow… thanks for sharing your story Patty. Bless you heaps. xx
Miscarriage is usually a horrid experience but individuals often neglect the psychological pressure that their partner could well be under-going also. Support each other over this difficult time and your partnership will go from strength to strength and i am positive you can go on to get pregnant