Lucie shares her story of not knowing she was pregnant before being rushed to A&E with an ectopic pregnancy.
I want to remember and think about it and talk about it, because no matter what, it was still a life, still my baby.
Just over 2 years ago I was rushed to A&E with severe abdominal pain, vomiting and almost passing out. After a few tests and long hours sitting in A&E I was eventually told I was pregnant.
This came as a total shock, but my husband and I didn’t even have time to process the news. The pain, which was absolutely excruciating, had travelled to my shoulder, which they told me could be a sign of a gynaecological issue.
I was told that the pregnancy could be ectopic, however blood results suggested that my hormone levels were strong, so the doctor thought there was a good chance the baby would be ok.
I was then taken to the early pregnancy unit for an internal scan, which confirmed the pregnancy was ectopic but also that my tube had ruptured and there was a lot of internal bleeding. I was rushed to theatre immediately, where my tube was removed. I was told later that, given the amount of blood I’d lost, I’d got to surgery just in time.
The next morning I was brought onto a ward and given my own room. I felt like I was getting special treatment. A nurse came to check how I was coping mentally, asking questions like ‘had you any names picked out for your baby?’, and I can remember just feeling angry and frustrated. I thought ‘how ridiculous, I’m fine, I didn’t even know I was pregnant’.
I was discharged that afternoon, about 24 hours after arriving. I got home and that’s when it all hit me. I gave my daughter the biggest hug and cried with her. On several occasions I woke from dreams about dead babies.
We spoke with doctors and ministers about whether or not we should bury the remains. We decided to let the hospital dispose of them.
And then life goes on.
And its confusing, because all of this happened so fast that I don’t think I ever really processed any of it – being pregnant and losing a baby. I even thought at the time ‘does this even count as a miscarriage, because it didn’t develop in the right place?’. All I know is that in the days that followed I felt this terrible loss and unbelievable love for this tiny little thing that I had never met and hadn’t even known existed!
Now its over 2 years later and I find myself writing this because I still haven’t processed it and I feel like I can’t talk about it. But I want to remember and think about it and talk about it, because no matter what, it was still a life, still my baby.