Trigger warning - details of pregnancy loss.


one night i bled

For those first few weeks, I counted every day to being closer to meeting the baby we had longed for. We had been trying to conceive for just over a year and couldn’t wait to finally meet the baby that would make us a family.

But then one night, I bled.

The doctors at A&E found my hormone levels to be low so they said that a scan was needed to be sure and to come back tomorrow. I didn’t sleep that night and when the next morning arrived I felt so vulnerable as I sat there, with an ultrasound scanner between my legs, waiting for an answer. The blurry image came on the screen - there was my baby's home but they couldn't see a baby anymore ..

'Maybe It’s still too early to say, come back in 2weeks' 

For those 2weeks, I continued to bleed and with each visit to the bathroom, my heart grew heavy as I just knew my baby wasn't with me anymore. It was like a light had been turned off - so when it was time for my second scan I already knew what the doctor was going to tell me and her face as she saw the screen gave me confirmation.

For the next few weeks I bled and cramped every day. One evening, while coming back from dinner, I felt the sensation of something falling in my womb space. I ran to the toilet and pulled down my knickers just as a big chunk fell out of me. I scooped it up into my hand. Was it tissue? Umbilical? My baby? I still don’t know, but for months afterwards everytime I went to the toilet I’d check when I wiped because I'd get this feeling of something falling out of me. It was like PTSD and that feeling seemed to haunt me. 

I lost my baby at 9weeks but It took my body 3weeks to let go and miscarry. 

I just wasn't ready to say goodbye. 

I didn’t know how too. 

I was so angry at my body. How could it lose the one thing I’d always wanted. How could it betray me. Did I do something? Or was there something I could’ve done to prevent this loss? Would I get pregnant again? Would I miscarry again? No one had answers. There were no reasons or solutions . It couldn’t be changed. It was just something that happened.

Giving myself permission to grieve

We went through trouble trying to conceive again which just added more hurt. I had a disconnect with my body, I didn't want to look at, touch or take care of myself. I didn't feel sexy but wanted to have sex purely for the hope of getting pregnant. It became super practical and each period that came sent me further into a deep depression. 

Only a few people knew of my miscarriage, and although each one was concerned for my mental and emotional health , I felt that no one truly understood, no one could comfort me in the ways that they hoped they could. My sadness also felt like loneliness.

I took to the internet to find other who had maybe gone through what I had. I found hundreds of stories that I could relate too. People that where feeling or had felt the exact same way as me and for some reason it helped.

While reading stories of others who had also miscarried, I knew something had to change. I wasn’t allowing myself to really process the loss, rather just letting myself get swallowed up in the grief. 

And so I made a decision. 

I was going to be proactive in my healing and I was going to approach it more holistically because I started to realise that I needed to get some sort of closure on this journey before being truly ready for anything else. 

I am a doula and so matters of the womb are dear to my heart. I read all the books, went to all the lectures and did all the online courses. I realised that in order to change how I treated myself I first needed to start with my thought process. 

Instead of thinking my body had failed me, I had to acknowledge my body had also been through something. We were in this together and my body needed my love and appreciation not my hatred and hostility so I gave my body permission to grieve. It didn’t need to rush through healing so I could conceive again, I allowed my body to take all the time it needed and during that time I would be kind and patient. 

Learning to be gentle with myself

I used the time I had to get to know my body better. What she liked what she didn’t like. How were my menstrual cycles. What foods were most nourishing and what kind of exercise made me feel better. I started vaginal steaming more and doing womb mediations under each full moon every month. I set up an altar to fertility gods and I said out loud my intentions. 

I had acupuncture & reiki to help unblock my stagnant energy but most importantly I was kinder to my body, trying to forgive it for what felt like a failure. I realised my body just did what it needed to do, it wasn’t a betrayal. I should honour this body and show kindness, because now more than ever, it needed the gentle care that I had long been denying it. 

Learning to be gentle with myself meant allowing myself to feeling all the emotions. It meant being patient and mindful in every approach to feeling that little bit better each day. 

By making the decision to learn more about my body and the ways I could nurture it, I felt empowered. I couldn’t control my loss but assisting in my healing is something I could control. 

A miscarriage is not something you ever forget, but in time, you can move through the sorrow and come out the other side. And maybe one day you can share your story too, in hopes that it comforts someone else because we are not alone, we are all in this together.