Colette writes about having a missed miscarriage that was then diagnosed as a partial molar pregnancy.
When you look up molar pregnancies you will almost always encounter the words ‘cancer’ and ‘chemotherapy’. The chances of needing chemotherapy to get rid of the remaining molar cells were very small, however, I found myself focusing on those words and going into a complete panic.
Friday 14th July 2017. I will never forget that day. It was the day that we went for our 12 week scan, only to be told that there was no heartbeat and our baby had not made it past 6-8 weeks. I can still hear the sonographer’s words, ‘I’m so sorry…’ I remember the feeling of utter devastation, yet the tears didn’t come straight away. I felt winded, like I’d been punched in the stomach.
We’d had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong. We had decided to try for another baby and within a month we had a ‘positive’ test result. I had the usual pregnancy symptoms, including nausea, and even developed a ‘bump’ which people had started to notice. I had done my best to avoid the awkward questions but through sheer excitement and possible complacency, due to a previously uncomplicated pregnancy and birth, I’d confirmed to a good number of people that we were expecting our second child. Looking back, I do remember the nausea subsiding at about 8 weeks and I had started to wonder whether I was feeling ‘as pregnant’ as I had the last time but they were fleeting thoughts.
We had decided to take our two year old with us to the scan as we thought it would be lovely for him to see his baby brother or sister on the screen. That was a mistake. Once we’d been given the news that there was no heartbeat, we were taken into a room to discuss our options. I remember walking through the waiting room, trying not to make eye contact with the other women who were waiting excitedly to catch a glimpse of their babies. I felt a pang of jealousy towards those who would receive better news than I had that day. As we waited, we tried desperately to distract our little boy with books and toys but all I could do was cry. The tears came and they wouldn’t stop.
We decided on ‘medical management’. I returned to the hospital two days later to take a tablet and was then admitted two days after that to have a pessary administered and deliver the baby. It may only have been the size of a grape but it was my baby. That was the single worst experience of my life.
It was two weeks later when I received a call from the hospital to say that the tests had revealed that I’d had a partial molar pregnancy. I was on holiday at the time and was told to use a recommended website to read up on molar pregnancies. It was such a lot to take in. When you look up molar pregnancies you will almost always encounter the words ‘cancer’ and ‘chemotherapy’. The chances of needing chemotherapy to get rid of the remaining molar cells were very small, however, I found myself focusing on those words and going into a complete panic. My thoughts were that I would never have another baby and I would get cancer. I kept thinking, ‘Why couldn’t I just have a normal miscarriage?’ ‘Why did it have to be complicated?’
I spent the next three months sending blood and urine texts off every two weeks and making the anxious phone calls to Charing Cross to find out whether my HcG levels were falling. Every time someone announced a pregnancy I felt jealousy, bitterness and resentment. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t help it.
It was Monday 30th October 2017 when I was given the ‘all clear’ to try again for another baby and only two months later, on Christmas Day, we found out that we were expecting another baby. We couldn’t believe it!
The first three months of that pregnancy I was a bag of nerves. We had two early scans for reassurance yet I still could not begin to get excited until after our fourth scan at 20 weeks.
Friday 7th September 2018. I will never forget that day. The day I gave birth to our beautiful rainbow baby.
Don’t ever give up hope!