I had an easy pregnancy with Maisie, she was such a wriggle bum and I could tell she was going to have an attitude! At 39+5 days, I realised that evening that she hadn’t moved like she usually did, and when I woke the next day, she was still quiet. We went to the local hospital, and her heartbeat came through strong and loud, I was in early labour, and I went home to wait for it to progress. The next morning, I went into hospital in full labour, and when they checked me, we heard those heart-breaking words ‘I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat’, all of a sudden my labour stopped and I went into shock. At 12.55pm, my beautiful little girl was born silently into the world, I had been praying they had got it wrong, but she was silent. Our families and close friends came to meet her, and leaving her behind broke me, I begged the midwife not to leave her.
Her funeral was, and still is, a blur, it took me all my strength to get out of the car, I just wanted to stay in there with her tiny white coffin. This day still haunts me.
The following months were a rollercoaster of emotions, I took the days I didn’t cry as victories and knew when a bad day hit me, I had to ride it out and that good days would come again. I was surrounded by loving family and friends, to this day, I will be forever grateful to them all. I had a lot of counselling and with the help of my support group, the light began to shine at the end of that dark tunnel.
My rainbow girl, Maia was born 18 months later, her pregnancy was incredibly hard, every day I wondered if that was the day I would lose her. I couldn’t get excited, or buy her many clothes, and I always said IF I bring her home, not WHEN.
Losing a baby at any stage takes away the magical side of pregnancy, you get thrust into a world you never knew existed. However, I now appreciate everything in my life, and I live my life for Maisie. Hers was over before it began, so I owe it to her to live my life to the full. Christmas, Mother’s Day and her birthday are hard, and always will be, and all the milestones you miss.
You never ‘get over’ losing your child, but you will enjoy life again, you will laugh without feeling guilty, you will start to be able to look forward. The path you thought you were on will go in another direction, but you see that light will shine again, I promise.