Nicole shares her experience of three miscarriages, and finding support online.
Everyone around me was getting pregnant. My family really struggled seeing me so upset. I would phone my mum and dad and cry about it.
Our daughter Eva was one when we started trying for another baby. A lot of my friends have had miscarriages, so I was very aware of the risks. I found out I was pregnant and had an early scan at eight weeks. There, it was discovered I had a twin pregnancy, but one baby had died. At ten weeks, we went to private scan and found that baby had gone too. I was absolutely devastated. I had an ERPC and found the medical professionals very matter of fact in how they spoke to us.
We were very open about the miscarriage and felt much better talking about it. However, I did shut myself off for a long time. I didn’t want to go out and when I did I found people didn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s like people think saying ‘I’m sorry’ is too simple and think they have to say something meaningful. I was told so many things I didn’t want to hear. ‘It is amazing how the body gets rid of something that’s not right,’ or ‘next time will be better.’
When I opened up about my own experience people would often share their own experiences of miscarriage. It affects so many people, but there is such a sense of shame and that it should be kept private. I felt better when I talked and drew a lot of comfort from hearing success stories.
A few months later we got pregnant again. Then, around six weeks I started bleeding at work. This time we went for medical management. I was in terrible state after that, I had counselling and took time off work. Just three months later, I miscarried my third.
Everyone around me was getting pregnant. My family really struggled seeing me so upset. I would phone my mum and dad and cry about it. Parents naturally want to fix things so they struggled with how to deal with it. I never wanted an only child and I felt like I was letting my daughter down.
Even though I didn’t respond to all the texts I received, they made me feel better, that people were thinking of me. I never wanted people to try and fix the problem, or make me feel better. I just wanted them to acknowledge it, and acknowledge that I was going through a dark time. A lot of people would say ‘at least you have a child.’ This did nothing to reduce my pain.
When I got pregnant again the usual joy was replaced with a ‘here we go again feeling.’ Having multiple miscarriages takes away the joy of being pregnant. We paid so much money on having private scans and obsessively checking for blood. I had counselling throughout my pregnancy but knew that there was no way I was going to relax until I held the baby in my arms. The effects of miscarriage psychologically are long lasting. Even after my son was born I would find I was neurotic about my children’s health.
I felt broken by the miscarriages. I suffered panic attacks, withdrew from friends and family, and struggled to focus on my daughter. I was totally consumed by wanting to have another child, and was unable to think about anything else. I had some counselling, which helped, but really felt my life was on hold. Miscarriage is an absolutely devastating experience, and I am volunteering because I want to give hope to other women who are struggling to have children.
Whilst I withdrew from family and friends, I turned to strangers who were going through the same thing. Things I wouldn’t necessarily share with friends, I was sharing on closed Facebook groups. I found it incredibly helpful and would post on it several times a day. I really relied on it. When online I would be surrounded by women who understood and I didn’t feel so lonely.