Fast-forward six weeks to mid-November 2016. I was feeling a little better following the miscarriage. We had had a lovely week in Dubai to load up on vitamin D ahead of the winter, so things seemed brighter. My period had returned (somewhat normal – I can’t remember to be honest) at the right time, so I felt hopeful. My body was back to normal!
I went for an ultrasound scan with the guy I had been to see previously on Harley Street to track my ovulation (I wanted to make sure I was ovulating regularly again). The good news was that I was ovlulating, but the bad news was that the scan showed that part of the foetus was still in my uterus. WTF?!!
It turned out that the little foetus, my bean, was more stubborn than its mother (what comes around…) and would not give in. Sobbing loudly I walked back to the Early Pregnancy Unit (EPU) (again) at the London Hospital and asked to be seen. The lady at the desk asked if I had had my period. Yes, I replied, but I KNOW there is still a piece of the foetus inside me. She didn’t believe me until I managed to get the private ultrasound report sent over.
Dear Beautiful Bean,
Today, Thursday 13 October 2016, is a very hard day. Yesterday they removed you from me. Tomorrow you would have been 11 weeks and while this may seem like nothing in real time, it felt like a long time to me. I had gotten used to having you in my tummy, and your daddy was used to stroking my tummy. In fact, sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night finding him holding me and my tummy, protecting you little Bean, in his sleep. It was really sweet.
I had gotten used to the idea of having you around next summer. I’d, perhaps foolishly, made cute little plans in my head. I even looked at prams online before going to the appointment on Monday…
The days and weeks felt so long, waiting, waiting, waiting… and I was finally at the point of relaxing a little. I’m a facts and numbers junkie. The stats showed that by this point we were down to 3-4% risk of miscarriage after the scan at 7 weeks showed a heartbeat and all being well. That’s 96-97% chance of a healthy baby. So, it feels so unfair and unlucky that you were in that 3-4% group. FFS, that’s really, really bloody unlucky! Last Friday I proudly said to your daddy that (my pregnancy app told me) you’d graduated from embryo to foetus – in truth you never made graduation. Your little heart had stopped before then.
I know this is nature’s way of making sure you weren’t born with defects. I know it’s nature’s way of telling us you weren’t meant to be. But, nature is cruel sometimes because I so badly wanted you little beautiful Bean to grow into a beautiful baby. I’m sure you would have been a little boy, but I’ll just never know now.
One of the hardest things in all this is seeing your daddy so upset. I’ve seen him sad, stressed and angry, but never this sad. He’s lost his spark. He misses you too, very much so.
I know we will go on to make another one, but I will never ever forget this moment or you. The tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write this. You’ll always have a piece of my heart.