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Corin’s story

Corin shares her story of a missed miscarriage at 11 weeks, including details of the physical process.

There was so much love for this baby from the moment those lines appeared. We happily talked about our baby and our future... It was all going so well, until 10 weeks... There are no words to describe a miscarriage, or the emptiness felt after.

After 9 months of trying to conceive, seeing a fertility doctor and planning to start IVF, my husband and I were shocked when two pink lines appeared on a pregnancy test. We were ecstatic.

It felt like fate. My grandma had recently died, and this was the circle of life. The due date was also my birthday. We told close friends and family who were overjoyed. There was so much love for this baby from the moment those pink lines appeared.

I started feeling fatigued, peeing more, getting sore breasts and feeling nauseous. My tummy got rounder and by 7 weeks I had gone up a trouser size.

We happily talked about our baby and our future. It was all going so well, until 10 weeks. After coming back from a walk, I wiped to see the faintest brown. My heart dropped, but we found a lot of information to say that this was normal.

The following day was Tuesday. My husband had gone abroad for work when I had more brown spotting. My husband reassured me; spotting is normal, I wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t red blood.

The next day brought more spotting with coffee like granules. I kept squeezing my breasts to see if they hurt. They did a little, which gave me encouragement that things were progressing, so I remained positive.

On Thursday I woke up to blood. Not a lot, but it was red. I panicked. My husband got an early flight home and our midwife referred me to the EPU. She said it was a good sign I wasn’t in pain. The earliest the EPU could see us was Monday, so we had to wait over the weekend.

The big clots started on Saturday. I researched miscarriages and what to expect; much of the guidance said it’s like a heavy period with cramping, which doesn’t come close to the truth.

Around midday I started feeling contractions which were agonising. I sat on the toilet and my husband held me. The contractions came more frequently. They say you bleed a lot in a miscarriage, but nothing prepares you for the amount. Blood poured out of me with each contraction.

And then instinctively, I knew my baby was about to come. A gush of blood came out and with it I felt it leave me. We looked in the toilet and saw it. A tiny foetus, the size of a strawberry, eye buds, tiny hands. Perfectly formed.

I remember inconsolably wailing. My husband was sobbing. We couldn’t look again – it was beyond traumatising to see. As we flushed the toilet his face was on mine and we cried like I’ve never known crying.

In the same toilet we discovered our pregnancy, we lost our baby.

The physical pain had temporarily stopped with the release of our baby, but I didn’t even realise it had dissipated, as the feeling of loss took over.

And then more came. Big, thick, liver-like clots which I now think was placenta tissue. It took over an hour to pass, followed by another. I was losing so much blood that my husband called 111 who sent an ambulance.

The blood, pain, grief, the foetus. There are no words to describe a miscarriage, or the emptiness felt after. The guilt I have now for flushing my baby, for not being able to look at it for more than a second.

It might not resonate with everyone, but here are some things I’ve learnt through this experience:

We’ll always remember our first baby, even though this wasn’t their time. I know there’s a future where we will bring our rainbow baby into the world.