After suffering with PCOS and irregular cycles for many, many years, seeing two red lines on a pregnancy test came as an absolute shock. After a whirlwind few days of GP appointments and attending a private scan, we found out that our little pebble was 10 weeks!
A blissful few weeks passed before I started experiencing unusual symptoms which were brushed off by the GP and midwives.
I woke up knowing something was wrong on 21st January 2020 and we frantically made our way to hospital.
Unfortunately my cervix had opened and an infection had ruptured my waters. I was only 18 weeks so my poor sweet pebble had no chance of survival.
She was born sleeping on the 22nd January 2020 at 14:36 weighing 174g and just perfect. After one look, I knew her name was Gracie.
After finding out that I could conceive, I desperately wanted a baby. For many years I’d squashed away the urge thinking that it would never be my turn only for it to happen when we least expected it. We tried everything possible and after 16 months of tracking ovulation, using special thermometers to track my basal body temperature I was defeated. I was heartbroken, fed up and felt that Gracie was my one chance at ever being a mum and I had ruined it. We arranged a consultation with the GP, only for me to start having vivid dreams, a super strong sense of smell and nausea.
Our giving up seemed to have removed the stress and we’d conceived!
We were terrified. Due to the connective tissue disorder I had, which had likely been the cause of my cervix being ‘incompetent’, I was required to have a cervical suture placed at Leeds hospital under spinal anaesthetic at 12 weeks. Covid rules meant that I had to do this alone and I trembled and cried while they numbed me up.
Every week was a milestone. The anxiety I felt at every niggle, every speck of blood, every time I thought I didn’t feel well was making every day of pregnancy a reminder of losing Gracie.
When referring to our baby I always said “if this one makes it home” because I genuinely believed we wouldn’t be coming home with a baby. It wasn’t until I heard that first tiny cry that I believed, and my husband says that my face showed only shock at the sound.
Parenting after loss has been a challenge. Every first with our rainbow has been a first for us that should have been a second. Every little giggle, wriggle and squeal of Mummy is a reminder that of what we missed with Gracie. And it hurts.
When our rainbow reached around 5 months old, I reached breaking point and felt unsupported by every service around me. Everyone told me that they understood how I was feeling, immediately followed by what was meant to be an encouraging note that it got better. It simply felt patronising and like they couldn’t possibly understand how I was feeling.
In my desperation I turned to Google and found Mother’s Mind. I messaged the page straight away before I could chicken out and got a response within an hour inviting me to the group the next day. I agreed but instantly in my mind started making excuses about why I couldn’t go. My husband told me that I had to go the next day and dropped me at the doors so I couldn’t back out.
I shakily entered and was met by a room of warmth. Of mums and kids of varying ages sitting together, talking and laughing. I was kindly ushered to a seat, handed a brew and toast and there I truly began my journey to support and friendship.
I discovered mums in various states of recovery, those like me who were in crisis, and those who were able to offer a supportive ear because they’d been there recently. Mum’s with birth trauma, other loss mum’s, mum’s who had experienced infertility and so many other mums who had all come to join the village that is Mother’s Mind.
I’m still recovering from my experiences and learning to live as a mum of two, with only one on earth, but I have the full support, love and friendship of everyone, both volunteer and service user, at Mother’s Mind and I thank them all for saving my life daily.
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